90012, Little Tokyo

Wish tree in Little Tokyo

Dear ——–,

I’ve barely been out of the house since our daughter was born, but Bryan and I decided that we should try hiring a babysitter for the first time and go out for dinner for our 5th anniversary. We started at the Spice Table, a restaurant with southeast Asian specialties and an owner that used to work at Mozza. I had to try the Hainanese chicken and laksa because I wondered what the gourmet version of these humble comfort foods would be like. They were pretty tasty — less greasy, more focused, with sharper flavors. They also soared with the wine flight that our waiter recommended. After dinner, we took a walk around Little Tokyo, stopping to listen to an outdoor karaoke session (?!). After gawking at some mochi in the Mikawaya, I decided to pick up some imagawayaki, biscuit-sized pancakes filled with sweet red bean paste, for dessert. We stopped to admire a tree frilled with wishes on slips of paper. There was only a subtle breeze, but I was hoping one of the slips of paper would blow off, on its way to being fulfilled.

94102, San Francisco

Drag show at Aunt Charlie's Lounge

Dear ——–,

In keeping with our new Thanksgiving tradition, we spent the holiday with Geoff and Steven in San Francisco. As soon as we got in the door, we started chopping herbs for a truffle mac & cheese. It was ready in time to accompany the 18-pound heritage turkey with Pilgrim-era DNA. (I liked the gamey-ness of the heritage turkey, though the dark meat was maybe too gamey.) To make sure we didn’t get too complacent this weekend, Geoff took us to Aunt Charlie’s Lounge, a dive bar on the fringes of the Tenderloin, to see the oldest living drag queen in America. And 76-year-old Vicki Marlane was pretty good — with a kind of shabby Sunset Boulevard charisma. The emcee informed us that she got her start as a sideshow act known as the Alligator Lady by pouring glue on her skin and letting it crack. But here, she was the Girl with the Liquid Spine, gesturing with her fingers just so during plaintive Celine Dione numbers. I felt an appreciation for how long she had been doing this, though there was also a sense that the world had moved on without her.

92128, San Diego

Dear ——–,

Last weekend, we planned a little getaway to the Rancho Bernardo Inn in San Diego. Bryan got us the “All Play, No Pay” package, where we had the choice of free 50-minute massages, golf rounds or dinners with our room. He figured out that massages were the best deal and I have to say the one I got was probably among the best I’ve ever had. Spa treatments also came with access to the saline pool. So I spent a lazy couple of hours floating in the water and reading Thread of the Silkworm under the cabana. Since we had two days there, Bryan also squeezed in a round on the PGA-level golf course, where he got par on a couple of holes. (I drove him around on the golf cart and ate snack mix.) We didn’t think we could also afford dinner at the award-winning El Bizcocho, but we still had a really nice meal at the Veranda. A lavender citrus mojito started it off right.

93441, Los Olivos

Clairmont Farms' field of lavender

Dear ——–,

We had only vague ideas about what we would do in the Santa Ynez Valley when we woke up on Sunday. We knew we wanted to taste a little bit of wine, but do mostly non-alcoholic things. (We also knew we wanted to avoid finding out the results of the World Cup final and watch it at home on Tivo.) Bryan did some quick internet research and we headed to an olive oil tasting at Global Gardens in Los Olivos. I never realized that olive oils could taste so different — one had mango overtones, another was peppery, another tasted of sage. We also walked away with an infusion of chardonnay vinegar, white balsamic, Meyer lemon and herbs. Then Bryan took me to a lavender farm — I didn’t know there was such a thing! The owner of Clairmont Farms said we came at precisely the peak, when the entire field of Grosso lavender was blooming and aromatic. Another staffer showed us how they extracted the oils in copper contraptions that reminded me of antique diving helmets. Hundreds of bees hummed around us. We rounded out our trip by sipping an unusual minty and “gravelly” sauvignon blanc at Coquelicot and some local pinot noirs at the Los Olivos Tasting Room. We drove home with a trunkful of consumable souvenirs.

93460, Santa Ynez

Sunset at Figueroa Mountain Farmhouse

Dear ——–,

Dan and Kate’s wedding ceremony in the golden, rolling hills of Santa Ynez featured a bagpiper, a chuppah, whisky in a quaich, Bon Jovi, and air guitar. As they read their vows — which were hilarious and sweet — an unlikely rainbow arced over the weathered-wood Figueroa Mountain Farmhouse. I don’t know how they could have scripted anything better. As we wandered around the grounds of the farmhouse, we nibbled on polenta snacks and sipped cocktails made of scotch, strawberries, mint and syrup. After loading up on fajitas and chile rellenos, we got down to the ceilidh. It was a little less crazy than our first attempt, thanks mostly to the presence of one experienced Scottish couple directing our group’s organized chaos. The dancing stopped for some video greetings from Scottish relations who were unable to attend, including a toast from Kate’s adorable grandparents. We hugged the bride and groom goodbye around 10:30 p.m. As we got into our car, fat droplets of rain began to fall consistently. The dancing continued despite the strangest July rainstorm. I slipped off my shoes at the hotel and found stray strands of hay.

90042, Highland Park

An aisle at Galco's Soda Pop Stop

Dear ——–,

In honor of the All-American weekend, I went to Galco’s Soda Pop Stop, where you can find practically any kind of fizzy drink. Every time I go, I have to have a theme or I get overwhelmed with choice. This time: root beer and related spicy sodas. I left with five different kinds of root beer, two kinds of birch beer and a bottle of sarsaparilla. When I go to Galco’s, I also have to stock up on some other hard-to-find favorites: Thomas Kemper’s ginger ale and Cheerwine. (I only went wrong once there — stay away from the spruce beer!) Galco’s also features an alcoholic section, where you can get beers and ciders from all over the world, and old-school deli and “vintage” candies. It’s kind of a strange outpost in a rapidly changing part of Los Angeles — many of the other stores there do all their signs in Spanish. But the whole area is full of mom and pop stores, so maybe that is a deeper part of the Highland Park character than language.

90038, Hollywood

Lunch at Street

Dear ——–,

Bryan and I spent one of the most perfect Saturdays ever. We started off with a leisurely lunch at Street, where we enjoyed sweet-salty Kaya toast, a succulent pulled pork banh mi and Vietnamese corn with a kick of spice. The iced chrysanthemum tea was so tasty it made me think, “Why hasn’t anyone else done this?” (We had to try Susan Feniger’s restaurant after she charmed us on Top Chef Masters.) We headed over to Exposition Park afterward and took a stroll through the rose garden, where we saw an older couple taking wedding pictures and lots of signs saying “no soccer.” We took a moment to smell the proverbial roses. Then we filed inside to see “Hubble 3D” at the California Science Center. It was really amazing to fly inside the nest stars and gas making up Orion’s belt and watch astronauts making repairs on the space telescope. I wish there were some more shots of the galaxy in 3-D, but I guess you can’t go back and make famous Hubble shots (like the Eagle Nebula) into true 3-D after the fact. In a happy daze, we made our way home.

80331, Munich

Traditional Bavarian music at Hofbrauhaus

Dear ——–,

On Wednesday, the conference organizers planned a night of tubas, flugelhorns and “traditional Bavarian food” at Hofbrauhaus. This is one of the biggest tourist spots, to be sure, but it was fun to do what generations of tourists to Munich have done. Seated in an enormous hall laid with a long wooden tables, I ordered a “small” pilsner glass of weissbier to go with sausages, stew, mashed potatoes and sauerkraut. (The “regular” steins literally looked like barrels.) I drank nearly half of the beer – a record for me – out of necessity. I kept asking the waiter for water, but he kept failing to bring it. A colleague also asked twice, but didn’t get it either. Incredibly thirsty in the middle of that unseasonable heatwave, I started to lose feeling in my fingers. I decided I’d better head out and find some water on my own. So here’s another tip about Munich: if you want your own non-sparkling water, it’s best to bring it with you. Outside Hofbrauhaus, I encountered what can only be described as souvenir alley: t-shirts with “Munchen” in rhinestones, ceramic beer steins emblazoned with baroque castles and capped with metal lids, cuckoo clocks, dirndl costumes, FC Bayern apparel. I managed to escape with just a tote bag and a magnet.

Another aside: Later, I found a place called Obacht around the corner. I never got to visit the shop while it was open, but this would’ve been my choice for whimsical, modern souvenirs!

80331, Munich

Munich city hall, Marienplatz

Dear ——–,

One of the first things I learned in Munich is that bikes ride on the smooth part of the sidewalk and pedestrians walk on the cobblestone part. A few aggravated dings of a bell and near collisions quickly schooled me. I arrived in Munich in the late afternoon Monday and quickly set out for a walk around town. I was struck by how green the landscapes are and how flat the terrain is. California makes you accustomed to perpetual drought and dramatic mountains and valleys. I ended up bumping into one of the scientists here for the same meeting as me near Marienplatz, the main square, and we decided to sit outside, in a courtyard of city hall. I decided to tuck into a sausage sampler for my first Munich meal. Even though I don’t like beer, I figured I should try it if I’m at the home of Oktoberfest. I ordered a tall glass of weissbier. It was actually not bad – light, almost sweet. Even though I didn’t come close to finishing it, Bryan was surprised I drank any at all. It was the first time I understood the idea of beer being refreshing.

90013, Downtown Los Angeles

These were only the semi-exotic sausages

Dear ——–,

Ja-Shin and Jeff were the real daredevils on our trip to Wurstkuche, a foodie beer garden in the Arts District of downtown Los Angeles. They pronounced the rattlesnake sausage good eating, but wrinkled their noses while pondering the alligator. I tried a forkful and said, “It tastes a little of the sea.” It was highly spiced, but pungent. It took several good swigs of cider to wash the taste out of my mouth. Call me chicken, but I was a lot happier with the less exotic mango-jalapeno wiener and the double-dipped fries with chipotle ketchup. I think there’s a reason certain foods aren’t that popular. Wurstkuche was a great place to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon, though. The servers were friendly and patrons shared long tables covered in brown paper. Everybody lingered. It was definitely Bryan’s kind of place — he’ll never get tired of sausage, mustard and beer. Outside, I realized I’d eaten at a cafe down the block and picked up an oversized photo from a printer nearby. Los Angeles can feel pretty disjointed because you’re usually driving from point to point, so it was nice to connect the dots.