One From Napa

{Rubicon Estate}

Just a preview from a trip to Napa -- more coming later today!

Dinner: Rustic Canyon

Today, let's talk L.A. (finally!).  L.A., and food, and I'll even throw in some photos, because really, isn't that what this was supposed to be about in the first place?  I don't know how things got so off track...not that I've minded.  I'm pretty sure talking about my friends, my mom, monumental life changes, and random ridiculosity is my favorite thing to do.  But for those of you who poke your head in around here every so often hoping to hear about gallivants and adventures in the city of L.A., I do apologize for being so me-centric lately, and I hope you haven't abandoned me yet.  Because today I have something just for you!  So let's do this.  Let's talk about Rustic Canyon.

Rustic Canyon is a wine bar and "seasonal kitchen" (aka restaurant with food that comes from the ground instead of the freezer) in Santa Monica, owned by husband and wife chef team, Zoe Nathan and Josh Loeb.  Zoe and Josh (we're on a first-name basis in my inner dialogue) are not only the culinary superstars behind my favorite brunch place ever -- the charmingly understated, farmer's market-esque Huckleberry in Santa Monica -- but they also might win the Ashley Pearson prize for cutest couple of life.  For reals.  Please look at this picture of them.  And then please read this bio on Star Chefs.  See what I mean?  I just want to squeeze them and give them a puppy.

And if you were too lazy to read that bio, let me fill you in on the highlights.  Zoe (who may or may not be my soulmate) started out in art school, then proceeded to culinary school in NYC, followed by stints at Mario Batali's Lupa, and then Jardinere and Tartine in San Francisco.  So basically, she's a winner.  And she can probably paint a portrait of you staring enviously at your screen right now.  And she's got an adorable pixie hair cut like Lisa's.  But lest you think that Josh is unworthy, let me tell you, he can hold his own, too.  He started out in publishing (a literary man! swoon), and then transitioned into the culinary world by cooking dinners at underground supper clubs.  I'm not even kidding you.  And he has the cutest most genuine squinty-eyed smile!  I'm in love with them both.

Must move on.  Ok, Rustic Canyon.  This place left me with the most overwhelmingly peaceful feeling of comfort.  It's not over-done in any way -- not in its decor, attitude, or cuisine.  The interior design is  natural-modern, but the pillowy booths and clay red walls make it homey.  The waiters and waitresses smile a lot and they look like your friends.  I kind of wanted them to be my friends, actually.  (But that could also be me, being in find-friends mode, and that's a whole other story.)  The food is fresh, filling, and soothing.  It's not startling or unexpected.  But it is really really good.

We started with olives marinated in a light, citrus-y olive oil and rosemary.  Perfect with the white wine.  Then we ordered the burrata.  This burrata came with artichoke hearts, fava beans, and ramps, all drizzled with a stinging-nettle pesto and toast to spread it on.  Quite Mediterranean.  But I must admit, as much as I wanted to absolutely love this appetizer, it was just not up to par with the burrata masterpiece at the Tasting Kitchen (you might recall my ridiculously enthusiastic endorsement of that delicacy).  The Rustic Canyon burrata was served too cold, and I'm not sure what stinging nettles are, but they make for a slightly bland pesto.  I looked for the salt, but they didn't have any on the table (too chic for salt?).  So next time, I'll try the squash blossoms (with goat cheese and mint yum!).

But don't worry - it got so much better.  At the recommendation of the waitress, I ordered the jidori chicken with soft polenta, wild mushroom, and marsala for my main dish.  I don't even remember the last time I ordered chicken in a restaurant because it always sounds like the boring option that's only there for the picky 10-year-olds to me, but after the waitress' glowing recommendation, I couldn't not order it.  And I believe Brian's reaction sums up the experience quite perfectly: "Damn, this chicken is so good it doesn't even taste like chicken!  How'd they do that?"  How, indeed.  The chicken was soft, smooth, pillowy even, simmering in a bowl of savory, warm polenta stew flavored with whiffs of cinnamon, nutmeg, and a dash of heat.  I don't think I even used my knife.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I ate the whole meal with a spoon.  How did they do that?

I unfortunately did not have dessert, this meal being right after my two-week long finals binge and all, but I had my eye on the kumquat tart and the Boston cream pie (I wouldn't mind some right now actually).  If you insist, I'll go back and try one.  OK, three.  Do you always have to be so demanding?

Bottom line: healthy, feel-good comfort food brought to you by the cutest chef team ever.  This isn't a try-it-once-to-say-you-did kind of place; this is a place that will quickly become your neighborhood favorite, even if you don't live in the neighborhood.

A Graduation Picnic

{Tilden Park}

{our picnic area}

{the decor}

{flowers by Sharz!}

{wedding bubbles turned graduation bubbles!}

{old friends and new friends}

{graduate glamour shots by my mom}

{my favorite legal minds :) }

It was truly the best way to celebrate the end of the last three years.  I love you girls!

A Normal Sunday

{this is pretty}

This marks my first weekend as a graduate, and let me tell you, it is bliss.  Law school may not always seem like a great deal, but graduation?  Graduation is the best deal around.

I mean, all I had to do is hand over the label of "student," complete with debt, eyesight deterioration, and the occasional movie theater discount, and in return, I got (1) sweet presents, (2) the peace of mind of knowing that I'll never have to take a final exam again, (3) a piece of paper that says I'm awesome, (4) some letters to put after my name, and (5) the right to ask people to pay me real money for my time.  Best. Deal. Ever.

Plus, as a little added bonus, graduation also marks my return to the Gregorian calendar!  I will no longer have to rely on class periods, semesters, and holiday breaks to measure my time.  Now I have hours, months, and even seasons!

I almost feel like a normal person.  I even went to brunch today at Tart and had a bloody Mary (review coming soon!).  Today, as in Sunday.  Because I didn't have any reading or outlining or anything to do.  (Can you see me smiling through the screen yet?)  If I were religious, I would praise some version of God right now.  But I'm not, so instead, I will drink my Sunday cocktail and dance ecstatically around my apartment (that one's for you, Lauren!) and be thankful to the universe.

Cheers to Normality!

J. to the D.

I did it!  I am now newly a law school graduate!  A real life J.D., Juris Doctorate, if you will.  (Brian already has title envy.)

I'm happy to report that my nightmare of tripping during the walk and spraining my ankle and/or splitting my chin open (childhood traumatic memories) did not come true.  But I did get a perfectly formed sunburn on the back of my neck.  It looks awesome.

Besides a slightly redder neck, what I will take away from yesterday was how it felt to graduate for the last time (the last time?!!!!).  It was sweaty.  Maybe the sweatiest day of my life.  But there was more than just that.  My professor, David Sklansky, gave a fabulous address, which he claimed no one would remember  (clearly I took this as a personal challenge to my brainpower).  He gave us only one piece of advice: he told us to look around, to take in this feeling of being on the cusp of our graduations and of our careers, and to hold on to that feeling forever.  He told us to store it away and come back to it in the dark times, when we forget why we became lawyers or question every decision we've made.  And for me, besides the sweatiness, the feeling was butterflies.

Yesterday morning, I woke up with that overly adrenalized, kind of nauseated, but can't stop smiling butterfly-y feeling.  My initial reaction, naturally, was to try to fix it - the "maybe if I eat something...?" reaction.  So I ate something.  But the butterflies still flitted about.  And then I realized that I should be grabbing this feeling, squeezing it with everything I've got and committing it to memory, not banishing it!  If you think about it, how many times have you had butterflies?  I can count the number of times on one hand: my first day of college, my first job interview, my first day of work last summer, my wedding day.  And now, law school graduation.  That's quite a list, no?  Maybe my favorite list of memories ever, and the butterflies were with me through all of those milestones.  They are like special occasion butterflies, and from now on, they will be welcomed with open arms and big smiles.

So whenever I think about Professor Sklansky's advice (which I will remember just because he said I wouldn't), I will remember how it felt to have sweaty palms, too much adrenaline pumping in my veins, a queasy feeling in my belly, and cheeks that ache from smiling.  And I will remember not only my law school graduation, but all of those other life moments that were important enough to entice the butterflies.

Cheers to the Class of 2011!

374 Miles South (Part II)

I'm still in the whirlwind of unpacking and refolding, and shuttling from SF to LA and back, and organizing everything for the graduation party tomorrow, and trying to see as many friendly faces as I can before my time here is over, and the to-do list is winning the tug-of-war right now.  So today I will leave you with just a few pictures from my drive down south on Monday.  I didn't have time to pull over much but I caught a few snaps along the way -- the clouds were doing some pretty spectacular stuff!

 {mooooo}

{how cute are these people?}

I'll be back tomorrow with some thoughts on graduation because, you know, I'M GRADUATING TOMORROW!

Move-in Day

{sorry for the shitty iphone pic}

Life is a bit of a disas right now.  I'll be working on fixing it today (avec a bottle of white wine and some pandora via apple TV), and I promise to show you pics when it's all done and pretty (complete with DIY success stories woohoo)!

P.S. it's sunny and WARM here and I kind of never want to leave.

Don't Stop Thinking about Tomorrow

{the GG Bridge from Chrissy Field, pola-rized}

Today is my official for-reals-this-time departure to LA.  As in no more of this what's-my-southwest-rewards-number-and-which-address-should-I-give-them stuff.  As in I will only have one set of keys, one closet, and one bed.  

Kind of weird.  Well, you're probably thinking that sounds pretty normal considering my age no longer ends with a -teen and I'm married -- hardly a rolling stone with no direction home, or (if you would prefer a more contemporary melodramatic song reference) a plastic bag drifting through the wind.  And you have a point.  But you must consider the fact that I'm an Aquarius, the most free-spirited of signs (and who am I to fight the natural tendencies endowed upon me at birth by the moon in it's 11th house?  See.).  So for me, it's weird.

So here I am, packing the car again for the 374 miles south, and the truth is that while it will be nice to actually live with the person I married, and to actually know where my purse/shoes/necklace/passport/[insert any personal belonging here] is for the first time in three years, I'm still a little nervous.  I’ve never been one to dwell on where I’ve been because I’ve always had something dazzling to look forward to (ok, "dazzling" is a relative term here, but you know how easily I am dazzled by the shiny and new).  This time, there’s still the usual giddy anticipation that comes along with any new adventure for me (hi, I started this blog, right?), but there's something more. This time, there’s a sense of loss, a sense of grieving that wraps around my heart, tethers it to the Bay, and pulls at it when I think about leaving.  It's a dull ache that pulses through my veins, a hushed sigh caught in the back of my throat, an unspoken "but" that trails the end of every one of my sentences.

I've been sitting with this silent pulling ache for a while now, at first trying to fix it, and now just trying to understand why it's here with me now, this time.  And I think it’s because I feel invested here.  I feel a sense of ownership over this place more than I ever have before.  This is the place where I was a child, and the place where I dreamed of coming home to.  This is the place where I built a friendship wreath out of a few familiar faces.  This is the place where I turned a relationship into a marriage.  This is the place where I discovered my career.  This is the place where I grew up.

The thing is, ownership is satisfying.  It's comfortable; it's steady; it's easy.  It's tempting.  But I keep reminding myself that challenge is good.  That after all of these "lasts" there will be "firsts," and firsts are better than any that come after.  And that Newness is what keeps me motivated, and what fills the days with memories worth keeping. 

It's hard to see past today, but I know I need to.  So I'm taking a page out of Bill Clinton's book and making "Don't Stop [Thinking about Tomorrow]" the theme song to my life.  With Fleetwood Mac as my soundtrack, I will go, and I will open myself and let this new life shape me and teach me and change me.  And I will overcome this ache.



(But I’ll still miss this place like hell.)

Meet My Mom, Anca

I used to think of Mother's Day as a day to say thank you to my mom for doing all of her motherly duties (plus some) with such love and humor.  But as I've grown up, I've come to see it as a two-part kind of holiday.  Yes, it is a day to appreciate my mom as my mom; but it's also a day to appreciate my mom as Anca.  So today I will bring you a two-part post.  This first part features my favorite old pics of my mom that I've collected from her albums over the years.  This one is about my mom, as Anca.  And as you can see, Anca is fab. 

  

{check out my parents' APW post for more of their wedding pics!}

And then I was born.  And this next series is why I love Anca as my mom.





{she had an awesome perm in the '80s, and she loved me even when I looked like this}

 

{she instilled in me early-on a love for picnics}

{she took me to the beach - the tidepools were my fave thing ever}

{she out-Ugged Uggs before they even existed}

{she always got me the best Christmas outfits AND she was friends with Santa!}

 {she rocked the original hipster glasses (and she got me chocolate ice cream - double win)}

{she threw a rocking birthday party}

{she wore Hammer pants and she taught me how to curtsy - clearly an important life skill.  P.S. did I tell you that I met Mr. Hammer himself one time in Vegas?  Yeah, that happened.}

{she owned - and still owns - this wig} 

{she had fab resort wear} 

{she suffered through every single one of my graduation ceremonies - in style}

{and she was the best non-mother-of-the-bride-y mother-of-the-bride ever (picture by Iris Bai; post-processing by me)}

And here's a shout-out to my also-fabulous grandma, Elena.  Always dressed to the nines, and always with a platter of baklava on hand.  As the mom of a mom, I feel like she should get a super extra Mother's Day award or something. (P.S. She made the coat I'm wearing here!  Oh, to have grandma skillz!)

Love you both!

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

Wishing you happy margaritas!

{my temporarily-empty marg glasses, a gift from Brian's grandparents}

If you didn't know, the margarita is my favorite drink.  Brian and I used to have Margarita Wednesdays in college, and his first gift to me was a margarita set.  That's when I knew it was for forever.  Ha.

Now that we're all grown up, every Wednesday cannot be a margarita day (sadly).  But thank goodness for weekday holidays like Cinco De Mayo that excuse my margarita drinking tendencies.  I hope you have a marg today with someone who makes you laugh or sing (because in my - extensive - experience, those are the activities that go best with a marg in hand)!

Bar Trip!

{taken at the market in Izmir in 2006}

It's booked!!!  A round trip to Istanbul!  With a few days in Izmir to visit my dad's family and go to a cousin's wedding - my first international wedding oh la la! - and a side trip to one? two? Greek Island(s)! 

There will be flying, driving, and sailing.  Turkish, and German, and English.  Times with family, times with friends, and times with just Brian.  Baklava, olives, and feta.  Markets and mosques.  Fishermen and tourists.  Moments of achey heart-warmingness (i.e. the first time Brian meets my grandma, watching other people get married, etc.), and moments of unthinking, unemotional bliss (i.e. lying in the sun on a boat off the shore of Santorini - this is not yet in any way in our non-existent "itinerary," but I will make it happen). 

Planned but unplanned.  Just the way I like it.

Europe, it's been too long; prepare yourself for one heckuva reyoon.

The L.A. List

{just because I like this picture}

It is disturbingly early and I'm about to go take a final exam, but I'm still really excited about this post!  Because today I have a list for you!  A fun list!  A list of places to see and things to eat!  A list for LA! 

I've even made a whole new tab up at the top of this page just devoted to the list.  (See the "L.A. List" tab up there?)  That's how excited I am about it.  There really isn't anything better than a list of things to look forward to.  Organized anticipation.  The best.

So go click away and check out what I came up with.  From what I could gather, these seem to be the "must-sees" and "must-eats" that provide kind of a basic level of L.A. knowledge, and from there, I can really get into the authentic stuff.  It is a baby list, a work in progress.   So please please leave a comment or email me if you have any suggestions to add!

P.S. I just made a res at one of these delish places for next Tuesday - stay tuned for the low-down next week!