Healdsburg's Bear Republic Brewing Company

Another weekend, another pub. This time, a perennial favorite: Bear Republic Brewing Company in Healdsburg.

Sonoma County has a somewhat unfair abundance of fine beers. Though there are several small breweries which produce amazingly diverse and astonishingly well-made beers, in my very own, very biased personal opinion, there is no finer beer than Racer 5 IPA. I can appreciate other styles, and the skill with which they are made, but when it comes to drinking, this is the brew for which I thirst. Fresh is always best, here at the brewpub, or at the Toronado.

The Bear's space always looks to me as though it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be when it grew up-- in the eighties. Chairs are mismatched, the space is oddly shaped and the walls are full of eclectic clutter. The music can be very good or very, very bad. That said, we've grown comfortable there and hardly notice anymore. What Bear Republic does offer, in the form of veteran barman Ryan Lindecker, is a warm, friendly welcome, to regular "tankers" as well as occasional patrons like ourselves. Prompt, attentive, knowledgeable, and above all, smiling, Ryan treats everyone like a local.

The rundown:
Overall- 5+ always worth a detour
Beer- 5+
Service- 5+
Atmosphere- 4
Burgers-5 grilled to exactly the temp ordered, could be too charred for some people's tastes, but perfect for mine. Decent bun.

Fries- 3.5 Two out of three on the Fry-fecta: fairly flavorful and crispy, but no skin. A word about potato skin: potato skin indicates that the fries came from actual potatoes, not macerated, re-formed, extruded, crinkle-cut, flavorless, or, god forbid--frozen-- potato-ish items. Often, though not always, it indicates they are hand-cut, with a french-fry cutter, just before cooking. Thin or thick, this is the only acceptable way to make fries. Real fries, skin on, even if they are not crispy, are better than McGarbage any day.

Other Parking is hardly an issue, the square is a nice little walk and shop, great bookstore nearby. Avoid the French Dip. Ketchup ever-so-slightly fermented. I have an irrational fondness for slightly fermented ketchup from my days as a waitress at an old-school seaside cafe in Santa Cruz, where the ketchup was topped up daily after sitting out on the blue plaid oilcloth-covered tables all day and would sometimes explode. This is also where I learned about real french fries, real orange juice, fresh calamari, clean pepper shakers, homemade food and "cold coffee". Grazie, Aldo.

Angel Food Cakes One and Two

One: In case you can't tell, this is an eggy, lumpy mass

Two: Ta-daaaa!

Angel Food Cake (from Food Network, Alton Brown's Good Eats)

For anyone with an hour and a dozen eggs to spare.

Ingredients
1 3/4 c fine sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1 c cake flour, sifted
12 egg whites, close to room temp
1/3 c warm water
1 tsp orange or vanilla extract
1 1/2 tsp cream of tartar

Tools
Wire whisk
Measuring cups and spoons
Spatula
Sifter or fine wire mesh strainer
Big spoon
Angel food cake pan
Mixer with whisk attachment or electric mixer
Several bowls
Wooden skewer
Cooling rack
Thin knife or spatula

Method
-Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

-Divide the sugar in half. Sift half in with the flour and salt in a bowl. Save the other half. Whisk the egg whites with the cream of tartar and water by hand for two minutes, then add the sugar that is by itself and use electric mixer with whisk on medium speed. Stop periodically to stir up the egg whites and sugar from the bottom of the mixer bowl. Mix until medium peaks form. (Soft equals bubble blobs, medium equals little crests that flop over, stiff equals little crests that don't flop over.)
-Remove bowl from mixer. With the sifter or strainer, dust the top of the egg mixture with a small amount of the sugar/flour. Gently cut and fold in with the spatula, scraping the bottom. Repeat until all of the sugar/flour mixture is smoothly incorporated.
-Spoon into the ungreased Angel Food Cake pan, again, gently. Spin gently to settle.
-Bake for 35 minutes before checking for doneness halfway between the inner and outer walls with a wooden skewer. It should come out dry all the way around. Mine baked for approximately 45-50 minutes.
-Let rest upside down on a rack for 1 hour before removing from pan. A skewer, spatula or thin knife helps. I'm serving mine with strawberry-rhubarb compote for Monty's birthday tonight.

For the Record

For those who are keeping track, here is my knee today. A little blurry, but worlds better than it was a month ago

15 Minute Chicken Soup

Ingredients:
2 Tbs olive oil
3 boneless skinless chicken thighs
2 medium carrots
2 baby leeks, or one regular leek, white and pale green parts
1 rib celery
splash of white wine (optional)
1 can garbanzo beans
1/2 tsp curry powder
1/4 tsp white pepper
2-4 cups chicken stock
(I used water and 2 Tbs "Better Than Bouillon" stock base)
Salt to taste if desired

Tools:
Medium saucepan
knife
cutting board
Wooden spoon

Method:
-Cut up chicken into 1/2 strips, then crosswise into cubes, brown in olive oil in medium saucepan on medium-high heat.
-As soon as the chicken is in the pan, cut the carrots, celery and leeks into strips then into approximately the same size cubes as the chicken. Add to pan. Stir.
-A crust of carmelized chicken and veggies will form on the bottom of the pan. This is good. Stir again. Turn down heat if it seems to be burning.
-When the chicken is cooked through and a little brown, add wine, if desired. Add stock or water+bouillon. Stir and scrape the bottom of the pan to loosen bits.
-Add spices
-Drain garbanzo beans and add to soup.
-Cook until carrots can be easily pierced with a fork, about 5-7 minutes
-Add salt/bouillon if needed

Cut up potatoes or frozen peas could also stretch out this soup. As long as the vegetables are cut small, it will cook quickly. I wish I'd taken a picture of this soup today-- the bright colors were very pretty-- but we ate it up as quickly as I'd made it, with crusty sourdough toast. Very warming on a cold gray day. For us, this was two generous servings, but it could serve four normal people with grilled cheese sandwiches or as a first course.

Rogue Ales Public House SF

One of our favorite things to do on the weekend is find new pubs. We've been to just about every brew-pub and tap-house in northern California, and many in the Pacific Northwest. Usually we just rank them in our minds, but this time we made a little chart.

This weekend, Mike and I went to San Francisco to find Rogue Ales Public House. It is in the North Beach neighborhood, on the corner of Union and Powell, near Washington Park. It was an unbelievably warm and sunny day in the city. San Francisco locals, who think 65 degrees is hot weather, had all their white out and on parade.

If a place has great beer, we will often overlook other deficiencies. The setting at Rogue is very pubby and comfortable, but parking was a bitch. While Rogue has a great selection of beers (42 beers on tap), friendly and knowledgeable service, a huge menu, and a fine IPA, the pints were $5.50 and we got dinged $8.25 for an average to small sized order of onion rings-- ouch! We blamed both on the touristy location.

As far as food quality goes, I tried the Kobe beef burger, since I've never tried Kobe beef. It was juicy and had good flavor, but was a little loosely composed and under-grilled for my taste. The bun was the most un-artisinal bun I have ever seen on a burger of that price and quality. Why would they make "the world's greatest burger" and serve it on the world's lamest bun? Combined with the soft burger, it made for a very mushy experience. It most definitely came out of a bag with red, blue and yellow dots on it. Fries had no skin and were unremarkable. Mike had a Cobb salad that was made from nice-looking ingredients but that he said was bland. Time to change out the once-clever paper six-pack condiment holders for some clean ones. Hidden outdoor beer garden in the back is perfect on a sunny day. Alternative music selection hit the spot.

Rogue Ale's Ratings:
(1= skip it<--->5=great)
Beer- 4+
(skip the Morimoto soba ale- the blandest beer we have ever tasted, otherwise good-great)
Atmosphere -4-5 - classic pub
Burger- 2 -a disappointment
Fries- 3- (frie-fecta= crispy, skin on, flavorful- these were one out of the three- flavorful)
Other- 3
Parking difficult, prices expensive, service friendly and knowledgeable, bathroom clean but no soap in sight (how do the employees wash their hands if they are out of soap?)
Overall, 3.5 out of 5
During happy hour, it might be a 4 or even a 5. Half-price pints might make all the food taste better! Ambitious, name-dropping menu (Neuske's bacon, Kobe beef, Niman Ranch, you know the culprits.) Based on our choices, I wouldn't venture far-- if you go, seek recommendations from the friendly staff.

Other pubs to visit:
Russian River Brewing Company in Santa Rosa- pros: big selection of all their own very well made beers, parking ok, prices decent. Cons: no burgers and fries

The Toronado, San Francisco- king of tap-houses, freshest and widest selection of beers, just say 5, Rosamund sausages next door can be brought into the bar. Eclectic and loud jukebox, just like we like it.

Triple Rock, Berkeley- The best burger and fries anywhere, great beers

Third Street Brewing Company, Santa Rosa- nice beers, pub food

Ben and Nick's, Oakland- Family/pub atmosphere

Healdsburg Brewing Company- The world's best IPA- Racer 5. Stick with the less-ambitious food selections. Good burger, ok fries (no skin). Don't go anywhere near the French Dip sandwich. They should be ashamed of themselves.

Tour of California

The "Tour of California" came through Napa Valley today. It was exciting to see the bikes come down the hill on Oakville Crossroad, but they went by so fast! I couldn't believe 150 people fit in a single brightly-clad blur. I did see the 3 stage leaders, and also the Discovery team, which was leading the pack, but Levi Leipheimer, who was wearing the yellow jersey, was tucked behind his teammates in my only photo of them. It's been funny to watch the coverage on TV as they pass familiar scenery. This summer, one of these guys is going to win the Tour de France.

Inspiration from Ira Glass

Ira Glass is the host of a show on NPR called "This American Life". The show has just been made into a TV series and is about to debut on Showtime (which I don't have). I found this on YouTube and found it to be so inspiring that I want it tattooed across my back, or made into a giant which will serve as the back to an alter of creative encouragement.

Here's what he said:

"There is something that nobody tells beginners, and I really wish someone had told me this. All of us who do creative work get into it because we have good taste. You know what I mean? Like you want to make TV because you love TV, there’s stuff that you just love.

So you’ve got really good taste, and you get into this thing that I don’t even know how to describe, but it’s like there’s a gap, that for the first couple of years that you’re making stuff, what you’re making isn’t so good, ok, it’s not that great, it’s really not that great. It’s trying to be good, it has ambition to be good, but it’s not quite that good. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, your taste is still killer. And your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you’re making is kind of a disappointment to you, like you can tell that it’s still sort of crappy.

A lot of people never get past that phase. A lot of people at that point they quit. And the thing that I would just like to say to you with all my heart is that most everybody I know who does interesting creative work, they went through a phase of years where they had really good taste, they could tell that what they were making wasn’t as good as they wanted it to be. They knew it fell short. Some of us can admit that to ourselves, and some of us are a little less able to admit that to ourselves. But we knew that it didn’t have the special thing that we wanted it to have.

And, the thing that I would like to say is that everybody goes through that. And for you to go through that, if you’re going through it right now, if you’re just getting out of that phase, or you’re just starting off and you’re entering into that phase, you gotta know that it’s totally normal, and the most important possible thing you can do is do a lot of work. Do a huge volume of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week or every month you know you’re going to finish one story, whatever it’s going to be. Like you create the deadline. It’s best if you have somebody who’s waiting for work from you. Somebody who’s expecting it of you, even if it’s not somebody who pays you, but that you’re in a situation where you have to turn out the work.

Because it’s only by actually going through a volume of work that you’re actually going to catch up and close that gap, and the work that you’re making will be as good as your ambitions.

In my case, I do a national radio show, right, like, I make my living at this and I’ve been making my living at this for a long time. We’ve won the Peabody award, won all sorts of prizes, 1.7 million people listen to our show, and they listen almost through the entire show, people love our show, this show that I make with my co-workers. I’m at a place where I’m done, I’ve mastered this thing. I gotta tell you, I took longer to figure out how to do this than anybody I’ve ever met. (Plays tape of himself reporting badly in his eighth year of broadcasting and comments.)

It takes a while, it’s going to take you a while, it’s normal to take a while. And you just have to fight your way through that. And you will be fierce, and you will be a warrior and you’re going to make things that you know in your heart aren’t as good as you want them to be, and you’ll just make one after another."

And you’re going to get better.

see the video

Googling Mom

I googled my mom today. She is, among other things, a poet. She reads regularly at Central Valley venues and belongs to a group called the Licensed Fools. She's been published in several literary newspapers and a few academic anthologies. Here is a poem she wrote about a wonderful lady whom I'd almost forgotten. Bobbie Watson was the wife of a colleague of my father's at the telephone company, Mr. Ernie Watson. They had a ranch outside Salinas somewhere. As children, it seemed like a wonderful fantasy land. Gardens and ponds (which my sister fell into and I pulled her out of in my one act of childhood heroism) frogs, snakes, a greenhouse room which always smelled damp but lovely. She really did have pastel paintings of her children on the walls, in little oval frames. She was a dear lady, with a sweet laugh and a high-pitched voice. Reading this poem (for the first time) was a nice little reminder of an idyllic time and place.

SHE WAS GRACIOUS
by Sheila D. Landre

Bobbie Watson, she was gracious,
the way she wore her garden hat
among the bearded iris,
every color, row on row,
bending to her gloved caress.
She would smile and talk
to violets by the doorstep and
make sure the cats each
had a sunny spot to nap.

Bobbie Watson, she was gracious,
the way she sat so regally
in an antique chair
in her handmade house,
pastel portraits of her children
on the wall. She paid such
close attention, asked such
thoughtful questions,
listened.

Bobbie Watson, she was gracious,
the way she comforted and
held me in her warm embrace
the day of Ernie's funeral
--How suddenly he'd died!--
but she was strength and
she was grace and she knew
where life was going,
where it came from,
how to live it.

Bobbie Watson, she was gracious,
in some fine immortal way
that makes me want to drive
up into the shady hills,
drift along the leafy curves
and down the pebble driveway,
to look across the old stone wall
and see her in her garden hat
kneeling there among the iris.

A Bright Spot

Just in Case You Were Wondering

Here is the best picture I could manage this evening of the knee. Looking pretty good. Almost there. Not back up on the board yet, but ready to prepare to prepare to get on it.

On a totally different subject, when my hands start looking really ratty and neglected, I do this: I buy a Revlon nail whitener pencil and use it after I get out of the shower. I push my cuticles back with a towel or the non-writing end of a pen after a shower or good lotioning, when they are softer. Last, I get this lotion, and I use it in the evening while I'm watching television, or anytime I think of it during the day. When my nails grow out a bit, I might file them into a bit of a shape, or cut them short and even, and voila, normal hands. The first three things can be accomplished in a day or two and make a big difference. I am the queen of low-to-no maintenance when it comes to nails. I gave up polish on my hands about the same time I gave up pantyhose, and for the same reason-- they both suffocate me. I still wear nude or pink-tinted polish on my toes, especially in summer, because my toenails just aren't that nice looking naked. I think the nail pencil is sort of a relic- sometimes they can be hard to find. They used to be called "French" pencils, I think because that was how a French manicure was accomplished before all of this silly fake tip painting. (Sorry if anyone reading this-- I think there might be three of you-- has silly fake white tips painted on their nails, doubly sorry if it's on your toenails.) I recently saw a doctor who explained to me that the uneasiness and fidgety feelings that occur towards the end of one's cycle occur because progestin (the contentment hormone) drops and estrogen (the energy hormone) stays steady. I think during this time, I start to look around and see things that need fixing, like, for example, nails...or husbands. Things that felt fine yesterday suddenly feel slightly out of control, and the first thing to do is find small things that can be controlled, like nails, and unlike husbands, and get them, well, nailed down.

Yes, I do.

Among my errands and appointments today was a trip to the library to return some cookbooks I never got a chance to read. On the way in, I saw a little girl with long, sandy brown hair and bangs, about three, I think. She was wearing little green pants with the cuffs rolled up and a flower on one pocket, running in that stubby way that little people do. In her hands was "Corduroy the Bear". She was so excited about going to the library, where all the wonderful stories are kept, she could hardly run fast enough. If I didn't know that I was me, I would have thought I was watching myself.

I remember a haircut my mother took me to get("You'll look just like Joey Hetherton!" I looked just like a boy.) just before we moved to Modesto. I spent the afternoon in the John Steinbeck Library in Salinas, reading a stack of Peanuts cartoon books on a bean bag in the children's section and feeling the back of my newly-shorn head in a sort of suspended state. In the hot (doesn't begin to describe it) summers in the Central Valley, the big downtown library was an icy refuge, and a place to be publicly alone with my imagination. I'd always bring home a big stack of books and arrange them in the order I wanted to read them, then rearrange them in the real order I wanted to read them, finally sneaking the most tempting one out of the middle of the pile. I would read for hours and hours. So today I came home and made this shirt. If you like it, you can buy one, and I'll donate the proceeds to libraries. Here's one organization that accepts donations. I believe in libraries. Yes, I do.

Vegetable of the Day

This is Romanesco. It tastes somewhat like cauliflower, and looks like it is either from a tropical coral reef, or outer space. The little fractal spirals are like tiny Thai temples. Within each spiral is a series of other spirals, each dot another series of tiny spirals. It is amazing stuff. Tasty, too.
Another great thing from our River Dog Veggie Box.

Dragging it Around

For the record, here is my knee today.

On another subject, my friends Emilio and Monty have cats. Two of the cats are psychotic and do not like affection. Sometimes at night, in a very un-catlike way, they drag small articles of clothing (even bathroom rugs!) around the house and wail and cry. It is a very strange thing for a cat to do.

When I was in college, and before, I wrote a lot of poetry. Here is something I have been dragging around with me for years:

God is Great

Isn't God great?
Awesome, man. Pass the popcorn.

Earl met his girlfriend
at the church club meeting
for students.
They were praying and singing
playing religion games.
Biblical twister
put your right foot in Jordan,
your left ear on a pillar of salt
and such.
The whole time, Earl was
thinking
"I want to date her."
She was overweight,
a parasitology major.
But she volunteered to
teach him the fox-trot
and the two-step
in dance class
the next day.
She was probably thinking
the same thing
Earl sometimes has greasy hair
and he snorts when he laughs.
He'll watch baseball all day long if
you let him.
He says Sharlene is the
most giving person he's ever met.
He's going to marry her.
God
is great.

(Hi Kristin.)