Listics

Last night at 10pm Ben and Kate pulled into La Jolla en route from Novato with a truck-load of stuff for Matt and Wendy’s new apartment.  Hadn’t seen Ben since Thanksgiving and this was our first chance to meet Kate.  She’s way lovely, balanced, together… likely to read this blog so I won’t ay too many mean things…  We caught up a little then dashed down to O.B. to unload.  I was pretty lost and Ben didn’t know his way around….

Matt’s apartment is studded with romantic welcoming grace notes for Wendy: a little gift in a living room chair, a wall plaque with an uxorious sentiment hung on the wall at the head of the bed, a bowl of tropical fruit, Gerbera daisies…  They were due in to LA from Honduras last night at midnight.  No clue what time they actually pulled into San Diego, but I’m guessing it was 4am at best.

This morning it’s off to brunch with  Beth, Kate, and Ben.  This afternoon, tea at Joyce Ferrante’s house.  Wonder if Wendy and Matt will emerge at all today?  I wouldn’t!

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More tales of Christmas chocolate…  my prior post left the story half told.  Not only do we spread Claude’s good work far and wide, we also are the transfer point for several pounds of See’s chocolates each year.  We love See’s dark chocolates, and our families enjoy them too.  We have had a tradition of dropping in on my uncle Marc and his family each christmas eve and leaving him a pound of See’s, then moving on to Henry’s house and sharing a couple pounds with him.  Marc died this last year, but Henry is still on our christmas eve route.   See’’s had a store on Montgomery Street when I worked at the bank, and there was another right around the corner on Market near Kearney in case there was a line at Montgomery Street.  Dark chocolate raspberry filled are my favorites.  I’m not much on celebrity spotting, but I did see Tom Hanks in the See’s store on Wilshire in Santa Moinica a few years ago.

Traditionally in the Paynter family, my dad has made fudge every christmas for as long as I can remember.  I think we’re talking about fifty-five years here.  Dad prides himself on producing the creamiest fudge in the clan, none of your crystalline sugar laced stuff from dad.  We get a pound or so of "the creamy" from him every year.  One year I was changing planes in O’Hare on my way back to San Francisco, so I rented a car and drove up to Madison to see the family.  Dad gave me a pound of creamy to take home, and - glutton that I was - there was very very little of it left by the time I turned in the rental car.

In the old days dad was precise in his use of a candy thermometer and beating and stirring the huge batch by hand.  These were the glory days of creamy production.  Maybe ten or fifteen years ago he switched processes.  He brought in a new recipe and began to use the microwave.  There were a few years when I thought he might have lost the touch, but the last few years he has been back on track with a gourmet product.

Chocolate Caper is the nom de business of our neighbor Claude ("clowed") Marendaz, al Swiss ex pat chocolatier.  We’ve sent close friends and family chocolate from Claude’s shop for years.  Now, after all this time casting bread upon the waters and expecting nothing but soggy bread, really, we have wonderful returns this year.  Beth’s Dad sent us a box of Michel Cluizel dark and darker chocolate.  And from the left coast, Joanna and Mark sent us Scharffen Berger chocolate bars from Berkeley.  I’m partial to the "Nibby Bar."  This may be because I like the name.  Reminds me of an Inuit term for fun in the sleeping bag ("nibbytuk" is how it transliterates).  Nibbytuk aside, I notice a bittersweet trend in the treats we’re receiving.  Friends and family know we enjoy dark chocolate, and this year we’ve been gifted with chocolate so dark it ranges from 62% to 70% pure chocolate.   After just a couple of these flavor treats, you’ll want to climb the pyramid of the sun and offer a human sacrifice or two.

Last XMas Eve we were in San Francisco.  Tonight, after a call on Henry and a taste of tea and raspberry tarts, we came home to a dinner of cracked Dungeness crab lightly tossed in mayonnaise (Hellman’s this side of the country) on a bed of baby spinach with a warm buttered sourdough ciabatta. 

Tonight I read again these Quaker thoughts on christmas.   

@nnette requests that her pictures only be used with permission.  Rather than get permission, here’s a link to a picture of a tabby cat’s nostrils.  Amazing really.  Appeals to my inner naturalist.

I’m thinking about leasing naming rights.  Molly is a fine name, but sometimes I might as well be calling "Come here GE Medical Systems!" as "Come here Molly!"  I’m thinking about one year names with renewable options.

Also, I suppose I should be flattered that she’s such a lovey-licky-licky puppy.  She licks my hands, she licks my feet.  She’d lick my face if I let her.  But I don’t let her.  Not since she picked up that nasty cat box habit.

I was so impressed with Timothy White’s flash presentation (see preceding post) that I wanted to see if I could find out more about him and his work.  Google to the rescue… I learned quite a  bit, including the fact that the guy in Chetek is probably not Timothy White unless a lot of changes have happened to Timothy since the Lucie Awards in October.

Hornswoggled.  Hoaxed.  I think I was lied to by an aging hippie, a guy who drives a rusting out sedan with the old blue California plates with gold letters… a guy with a "Free Tibet" bumper sticker.  A guy, in other words, like any of several others who live in Bolinas, spend week-days looking for razor clams on Duxbury Reef, weekends partying at some gaffers’  house in Nicasio, and who may or may not fly down to LA for a photo-shoot tomorrow morning.

I’m gullible, but stranger things have happened than meeting a celebrity photographer in a northwoods resort town in the off season at an internet cafe.

Pronounced shh’TEK.  Dropped into Lazy Joe’s Internet Cafe.   Checked my email.  About a four hour drive home from here.  Met Timothy White, an old Bay Area home boy.  He showed me his site.  It’s a flashy montage of pictures he took over the last several years.  You’ll recognize the subjects.  Timothy is from out by Stinson Beach, Bolinas.  He worked with the Skywalker people.  He’s also spent time drumming by Sather Gate.

He’s a good photographer.

He’s putting a site together for Joe Hagen, owner here at Lazy Joe’s.  I’ll check back later when it’s more than this placeholder.

Chetek is one of those places where you can get a scoop of bait fish at the gas station.  It’s a beautiful town.