More food porn...

Farmers Market Roma tomatoes roasted with garlic in olive oil, and sprinkled with rosemary from our garden.

Fresh eggs from the corner Farmstand ... just plucked outta da hen's butt - oooooooo - yummy!(?)

"Made in Spain" night at our house. Inspired by the PBS series "Made In Spain." (Okay so enchiladas aren't Spanish, but HISpanic anyway, and melty, cheesy good!) Check out our current favorite Spanish chef, José Andres. http://www.josemadeinspain.com/bio.htm

Bouchon Bakery. The highest, most delicious, bakery art form. http://www.bouchonbakery.com/

They invited us in the back for an impromptu tour of the bakery.





Eye-rollingly good. After a bite of this, Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally" would NOT have been fakin' it!

Our Gypsy Girls and Katmandu

Shanna and Amanda. Our neices ... Ted's brother J.D.'s girls ... can hardly be called girls any longer. These bright young women simply mesmerize me. Shanna (raven haired one) is a legal secretary by day, Dreamtime Circus fire-twirler by night. And Amanda (striped dress) just got back from the island of Ibiza to visit a German friend and his family who are renovating a centuries old villa there. We just love these "girls". They have a very close sisterly bond that makes you want to "feeel da luvvv" even if you don't have a sister.

So all the Raess's came together (including Ted's younger brother, Jeff and the girls' mom, Debbi) to belatedly celebrate Ted's mom's birthday and to see J.D.'s house that was recently renovated from a fire that damaged about a third of it last Christmas time. An older home, the house feels fresh and new and it was enjoyable to all be together ... a rare occurrence these days since everyone's lives take them in every direction ...

And speaking of every direction, how 'bout Katmandu? You guessed it, The Katmandu is a festival here in wine country. We're just amazed by the abundance of fairs they have up here and each one is unique and interesting in it's own way.

A cacophony of spicy color, sitar music, food (mmmmmm Sag Paneer!) and Tibetan/Nepalese people (there's quite a community up here), I can't say this was like being in Katmandu because I've never been there, but it certainly had a delicious exotic feel that wasn't quite like any fair we'd seen so far.


Photo below - fabulous Himalayan food served out of deep copper kettles, from the Yeti restaurant in Glen Ellen. We ate at the Yeti once with J.D. and since he'd been to India years ago, we believed him when he said that their food was the real deal.



Above: Cute girls finding pretty bargains.


Can you find "Waldo" (Peggy) in the photo below?


The Katmandu Festival was held a few blocks off the City of Sonoma's main square. In the square itself, a full-on Mexican festival was bursting with Marachi bands, Mexican food and families eating, dancing and having fun.


From Katmandu to Mexico in just a few minutes ... it sho' 'nuff ain't dull around here!

Jailhouse Rock n' Roses

Okay, so recently I went to jail.

My friend Dodi (who I call the Dodi-Lama because, as much as she might disagree, I believe she is the Guru of Plant Lore) found out that the Sonoma County Jail has an appointment-only nursery where you can get all kinds of landscaping plants at great prices.


So one day not long ago, Dodi, Victoria (we call her "V"), Suzanne and I went to jail. When we arrived, we checked in and were met by the head Nurseryman who told us to take our time and look around, and if we needed help, he'd have some guys (inmates) help us. As we looked through rows of small hothouses, I overheard two of the guys talking a few feet away.

"I never considered myself a gansta," one of them said to the other, "I'm more a hustler." A bit of bravado showed in his voice, and I wondered ... Gansta? Hustler? ... I wanted to turn around and ask what the distinction was, and if there was a Hoodlum Hierarchy, but part of the Jailhouse rules was not to talk to the inmates unless they were assigned to you. So I minded my own business, continued to check out the plants, and when no one was looking, took a peek at the two guys who'd been talking.

Young. Maybe in their late twenties. Both in uniform - military close cropped hair, blue workshirts and jeans. I couldn't help but wonder what they'd done to get here, and what made them do whatever it was they did. Troubled childhoods? Wonky brain chemistry? The thrill of rebellion? On the way home, I told Dodi what I'd heard, and she said that at least they got to be outside in Nature.

I do believe that just being in Nature can have an inexplicable impact on people. What better way to feel part of a grander design? — if not consciously, then subconsciously. Well, this is could be a lengthy conversation and best left for a later time, but while riding home with a jail-sprung corkscrew plant and a yerba buena, I believed that along with careful "mind gardening", Nature can work wonders. And I hoped for those two young men, that It would.