What a treat to have an expert on Golden Gate Park (see Susan’s Goldengatepark.substack.com) show us around, on borrowed bikes no less. We entered the park around 30th Ave and Lincoln and rode to the recently revamped middle Lake and then to the golden gate angling and casting club where practicing fly fishers cast their lines and try to hit various target hoops in the aqua-colored pool. A nice guy who works at the club’s lodge, a rustic WPA cabin, showed us around the place which has high narrow wood lockers for rods, old photos of champion anglers, and various trophies on display.
Hitching a ride
From there we peddled to jfKennedy drive which became car-free during the pandemic and has stayed that way, with sculptures dotting the wide road. We passed by a white botanical building that looked like a mini-Kew Gardens (of London fame) and so it was, with colorful landscaped gardens and a guy playing impressive classical music on a public piano.
Mini-Kew
We had coffee and a donut at uncle Benny’s donuts on Irving, which was hopping on a Wednesday morning and a late lunch on Taraval Street at Kingdom of Dumpling, a hole in the wall serving excellent steamed and pan fried dumplings, pork & spinach; shrimp and chives.
For dinner we picked up pizza on 9th Avenue and took it to Oakland where Susan and Eric’s charming “boys” live. This morning, we squeezed in one more visit to the park on another spectacular day, walking around the polo field with Susan’s sweet pup Juniper who leapt up on all fours at the sight of a dog friend approaching.
Alas my cheese spreaders didn’t make it through security at the Burbank airport, unlike at O’Hare, where they barely got through. So I arrived without a gift for our friends here in Sam Francisco. Next time, I’ll stick with tea towels.
Fort Funston
Other than that our short flight on Alaska airlines from Burbank to San Francisco went well. Safely ensconced in SF’s Sunset neighborhood, we took Susan’s dog on a walk at scenic Fort Funston, overlooking the Pacific and had a terrific Burmese meal in the Richmond at Mandalay, which as it happens won a James beard award this year. I can see why.
We sat outside in a heated area and had delicious food. Highlights: tea leaf salad (crunchy mix of nuts and leaves), samusa soup, naked eggplant, pork with green beans, chicken lettuce cups, balata /crispy pancakes.
This morning, Dirck and I had breakfast at Tartine, the famous SF bakery in the Mission that now has an outpost in the Sunset on 9th Avenue. We had an excellent morning bun (although the one at The commissary in burbank was mighty good too). Also amazing – the enormous country loaf and ham and cheese croissant. Oddly, we sat next to a guy I realized I knew from Chicago… after he left Tartine. So I emailed him to confirm it was him and he was still nearby so he returned to say hi. We walked back to Susan and Erica through glorious golden gate park, taking a few wrong turns, without complaint. Must look up Susan’s piece on substack about “desire lines” – off the beaten paths that develop in places both planned and wild like golden gate.
Fort Funston
Susan drive us to a gentrifying area in the south park of the city near the ballpark called Dogtown which amazing views of the east bay looking out at Oakland. The view was particularly astonishing from the rooftop of RH. An opulent furniture store in an old Bethlehem Steel Building. Breakfast in Sunset was coffee and a glazed donut at Uncle Benny’s on Irving.
We have mostly gone to old favorites during our visit to Burbank (high horse/base camp cafe; the commissary, Porto’s) and environs but last night my brother showed us some new (or new to us) spots including Salazar, in a neighborhood near Silver Lake called Frogtown (was told once that realtors come up with these neighborhood names, at least in Chicago) and Wanderlust, an ice cream shop in Atwater Village, run by south Asian entrepreneurs that has concocted exotic flavors, some with south Asian sounding names (Vietnamese rocky road, sticky rice and mango).
Salazar is in a dark quasi-industrial area near a highway but has a hip yet welcoming vibe, with a spacious concrete outdoor eating space with trees and tarps. (we never saw an indoor space).
The food is affordable, moderately inventive tacos and family style sides of roasted spicy corn, black beans, guacamole, and an assortment of margaritas. Wanderlust doles out small scoops of its ice cream with exotic names and tastes.
These places struck me as distinctly LA, which was refreshing after a visit to upscale “Old Pasadena” area where the old Spanish-style buildings are distinctly Pasadena (although not quite nlike the plaza in n Kansas City) yet house many of the same shops in our new hometown of Chicago,
some in our Lincoln Park neighborhood. That’s one difference about living in Chicago, vs. Des Moines where we had fewer of the lifestyle chain brands and big box shops that homogenize many major cities now. In Pasadena, we did find a few small and quirky independently owned shops selling Kamala election gear and vintage Chanel (north of Colorado blvd, the main drag on Holly near Raymond) and a flea market in more funky south Pasadena, on Mission Street near the train station, with its the small charming bungalows. And Pasadena’s long straight fancier residential streets lined with Spanish style houses with red stucco tile roofs, towering palms, bright red Bougainville, and lush green lawns scream California.
On a busy Sunday we returned to Pasadena for distinctly Pasadena experiences – lunch at the charming Thai restaurant Daisy Mint (sautéed eggplant, string beans with crispy tofu, large pieces of chicken satee) and the glorious Huntington Gardens (especially the Chinese and Japanese gardens).
Glad to be back to Burbank visiting my brother and family after too long. Last time I was here in early 2020, the pandemic was just starting. We still wore masks on our flight to LAX but are less worried about Covid. (Knock wood).
Skyline trail
We tried to take the flyaway bus from the airport but there wasn’t one readily available (40 minute wait) so we took an Uber. $86 and 1.5 hours since we arrived during rush hour. (thanks to a one hour flight delay.) unfortunately we didn’t have the Lyft app downloaded, which were told could have saved us $20 or so. (It’s now downloaded.)
At The Commissary, a beautiful server we guessed is an aspiring actor served us coffee and a delicious morning bun, a curly mound of croissant dough with a crispy cinnamon sugar crust. Lunch was excellent salads at açaí jungle. Then we visited the resale shop It’s a wrap (which sells clothing worn on various shows that film in the area) and nearby vintage and interesting gift shops in what’s know as Magnolia Park.
Last stop, the famous Cuban bakery Porto’s where several staff told me “ I like your shirt!” ( I was wearing my cheerful Harris-Walz tee) and a woman visiting from Arizona asked if she could give me a hug. She and her party are also Harris-Walz supporters. They are cautiously optimistic about the tickets chances in Arizona.
Porto’s
We were the only hikers and on a narrow trail high above Burbank, where we could see the silhouette of downtown LA in the distance, a little further off than the downtown Chicago silhouette from our apartment. Although the mountain bikers were in on the secret, which wasn’t that big a deal. (It’s off skyline drive.) we also drove on a narrow canyon road past a lovely pink Spanish style stucco house with terraced gardens that was the club house of a long gone country club.
First, we did not ride a century (100 Miles). Fortunately this celebrated annual bike ride in southwest Michigan offered plenty of route options (15, 25, 37, 50, 100) and there was no shaming. We all rode the same last stretch into Three Oaks, Mi. there was no way necessarily to know who rode 15 miles or 100. Dirck and I contemplated chatting loudly as we rode into Three Oaks about how “the first 75 miles were a breeze, but those last 25, man they were tough.”
In truth we road about 34 miles, we think, since we shaved off one wee bit of the 37 mile route (that dipped into Indiana). It was a lovely ride. Mostly flat but with a variety of scenery, from farms with old barns, yellowing corn and browning soybeans outside Three Oaks to big mansions and charming small cottages, old inns (Gordon Beach and Lakeside Inn) and camp along Lake Michigan in New Buffalo and Lakeside to exurbia who-knows-where-exactly with the occasional McMansion or Hamptons-like faux chateau or denser communities of luxury houses or mobile homes on the way back through the woods to Three Oaks.
We couldn’t help comparing the ACC experience to RAGRAI, the Des Moines Registers’s annual great ride across Iowa, which I have partially ridden several times (1 to 3 days) and dirck has done in full (seven days). We saw several RAGBRAI bike jerseys and one woman bragged that she’d ridden ragbrai 21 times. Interesting to find out that the ACC ride and Ragbrai are both 51 this year. RAGBRAI is much longer (a week not a day) and much more of a production to ride and organize. It’s also a lot hillier, windier, hotter (in late July) and challenging, often with 70 or more mile days, one day after another.
Our improvised routeGordon Beach inn
I loved that the ACC was so chill. Much smaller so no lines. I was surprised that there were no vendors along the route – no eating your way across Michigan, as in Iowa. No Mr. Pork Chop or loud hand -cranked ice cream machine or pop-up beer gardens. No beer at all, or circus. No “teams” wearing tutus or tiny port-a-potties on their helmets. Or riders trailing boom boxes blaring music.
Very different scene. The only vendor we encountered was a few girls serving free lemonade outside a contemporary house near Lake Michigan. A pumpkin farm also had free cider. We stopped at Roar, an art gallery in a big red barn in Three Oaks, which kindly laid out candy for riders and had the most immaculate port-a-potty I’ve encountered. I appeared to be the first customer, judging from the toilet paper roll which did not roll. (figuring out where to tear it was a challenge.) the gallery owner, whose work exhibited includes his own, also runs a cool Airbnb in Sawyer called Ozzie’s Place.
Roar Art gallery inside the red barn in Three oaks
We encountered only one official “sag stop” on the grounds of a pretty old yellow house in a clearing in the woods and much appreciated the free cider, apples, bananas, trail mix, cookies. water. At the end of the ride, people piled into a Catholic Church hall in Three Oaks for a free spaghetti dinner (spaghetti never tasted so good) and, shades of RAGBRAI, church women served slices of apple or pumpkin pie. No lines. No crowds. No traffic jams. No exhaustion. No major hills. Some families. Lots of Chicagoans. What looked like a few Detroiters.
I wondered how the five different routes would overlap and be marked. EASY Peasy. There were occasional spray painted apples on the street, each route coded a different color. We mostly followed the blue apple signs for the 37 mile ride. and there was enough overlap that we could edit the route, cutting off a little here (sorry, Indiana, maybe we’ll ride your way next time) and adding a little there (to make sure we rode along the lake, a highlight.) Anyway, totally fun and well run and we hope to return.
By the end of this busy day in southwest Michigan, we had a car full of bike shirts, democratic candidate fliers, apples, cider and pumpkins, which reflects the dual nature of the day. We spent much of it canvassing for democratic candidates in New Buffalo, volunteering on behalf of the Michigan Dems – visiting streets completely off the tourist path in New Buffalo, which was interesting. We encountered a mix of friendly Dems and sometimes hostile Trumpers. One woman slammed the door in my face after declaring she’d never vote for “that woman,” i.e. Kamala Harris. Other republicans were more pleasant.
More fun with skeletons
We also were in the area for the annual Apple Cider Bike Ride that happens tomorrow. We went to the registration in a Catholic church in Three Oaks, where there was also a very good sale on bikeshirts in a nearby tent. Later in the day, after canvassing, we returned to Three Oaks for the bike ride’s “ice cream social” which was fun. We lined up for free ice cream (Michigan pothole, my new fav, was an option) and popcorn which we ate in a little park in town where a blues band played in a gazebo.
Apple Cider Ride ice cream social
We took the backroad Cleveland (the name of our street in Chicago) to the Twin Maples apple orchard north of Galien (pronounced Ga-leen, home of Ray and Al’s cafe, which remains on my must-try list). (UPDATE: The cafe opened an offshoot in THREE OAKS — Commune+Market, a new coffee shop and expansive event space, is set to open its doors in the heart of downtown Three Oaks at 105 North Elm St. Source: Harbor Country News https://search.app/38eUeVg2UJQ85qfp8)
We picked up some Jonathan apples (uncommonly huge and red) for applesauce-making, plus some mutsu apples and honeycrisps for eating and some cider. We had a pretty drive further north (marred only by too many Trump signs) through Baroda, stopping outside st. Joseph at devries farm to pick up some pumpkins and unusual gourds.
Houndstooth fare: poke with avocado in blackberry ponzu sauce and Japanese milk bread with black garlic and chives.
Dinner at Houndstooth in Benton Harbor did not disappoint. It helped that the clerk at an outfitters shop (wanderlust) in St. Joes excitedly recommended what we should order, down to the drink (WaffleHouse, an odd name for what tasted and looked like elegant lemonade). The Japanese milk bread was fabulous (which I would not have thought to order had the clerk not recommended).
She also recommended the passion fruit panne cotta with little pieces of meringue for desert which was as delicious as it was beautiful to look at. Looked like mini birch tree branches in a creamy bright yellow sea. We sat on the patio which fortunately was not deserted but next time I’d like to try the dining room which was hopping. Strange to find such life inside a building on otherwise lifeless streets but I’m guessing affordable rents in this struggling town made it possible for a talented chef to set up shop.
We danced the night away at my niece’s wedding, held at White Oak Farm in the countryside near Michigan City, Indiana, only 12 minutes from New Buffalo, Michigan, but one time zone away.The weather was dry (amen) and in the 80s, with some intense sunshine during the early part of the outdoor service on a stone patio between two barns – not the old rustic barns but new fancy barns, one with chandeliers, designed not for livestock but for events including weddings. Great people, service, food, dj, dancing.
The “barn”
The morning after, my sibs and I checked out of our respective airbnbs at 10 am (a bit challenging when you’ve gone to bed at 1:30 am) and met at Issa Vibe Cafe, a cheerful easygoing spot with large breakfast paninis (request mayo/aioli on the side; consider sharing) and coffee drinks. It was a good place to hangout and a perfect way to end our family gathering.
Noah, D and I did stop for some Michigan pothole ice cream at Oinks on the way out of New Buffalo. We’re talking very chocolate ice cream with oreo cookie crumbs and mini-peanut butter cups, so not suitable for our lab Millie, who was with us. Amazingly, another customer came over to our table with a little dish of vanilla ice cream for Millie. How kind was that?
I love a good gorge and this part of the world (the Finger Lakes) is full of them. In and around Ithaca, my favorite is to walk from upper to lower Treman, much of it along stone paths, steps and bridges along the gorge, with water crashing down on mossy-stones, through the sun-dappled forest.
Taughannock Falls
The light, sun, breeze, sound is dazzling and reminds me of my parents who love/loved these gorges too. Fall Creek Gorge is also a stunner, especially as seen while crossing over the suspension bridge high above, but the views are obscured by the metal netting, a sad necessity to discourage suicidal jumpers.
Our final gorge of the trip was the big Kahuna — Taughannock Falls, which is the highest in the area and, word has it, taller than Niagara (albeit with much less volume.)
At Cascadilla
For old time’s sake, we ate nearby on the west shore of Cayuga Lake at Glenwood Pines, in a knotty pine-walled dining room with big windows looking out at the occasional white sailboat gliding through the blue water and the wooded sloping shore beyond, on Cayuga’s east shore. Excellent “pines burger” but sadly the Ithaca Times restaurant review I wrote in 1980 was no longer tacked up on the wall. It was still there about 25 years ago when we last visited., to my amusement. The kids were impressed as I recall.
Suspension bridge over Fall Creek Gorge
Next time, we’ll try to spend more time at Ithaca Falls on Lake Street below Fall Creek gorge on campus. — and hike the Risley Trail (behind Risley Hall on North Campus) to the bottom of Fall Creek.
This trip, we also missed Flat Rock, the rushing water over, yes, flat rocks, in the tiny hamlet of Forest Home, and The spectacular Watkins Glenn.
We had a rare (for this visit) rainy day, which fortunately didn’t last long but with the temperature suddenly fallish (60s, not 70s or 80s) we did some indoor activities, starting with brunch at the terrific East Shore Road House in Lansing. Local food producers, husband-and-wife operation, creative entries, cheerful service, short wait on a Saturday. Perfect.
Next stop the Cornell campus to go to the Johnson Museum, designed by IM Pei. Haven’t been there in decades.
On the arts quad
I didn’t remember the top/fifth floor with its long glass windows affording spectacular views of Cayuga Lake, the valley, Cornell campus and a classic tempestuous Ithaca sky. Another favorite was the second floor outdoor deck with a long, sloping, zero-gravity wood bench where we laid down and looked up at the ceiling dotted with flashing little lights, like stars in the night sky – an LED art installation.
Watching the stars (installation)
We walked around the campus, across the suspension bridge high above Fall Creek Gorge. We saw lots of unfamiliar new modern buildings on campus in addition to the old favorites — The Straight (student Union), Goldwin Smith Hall, McGraw Hall (history). Final on campus stop: the dairy barn (which isn’t a barn any more) for Cornell ice cream! Perfect.
East Shore Road House
Yesterday was lunch outdoors at the edge of a cornfield at Ithaca Beer Co. where I had a “Cornell chicken” sandwich…apparently Cornell chicken is a thing (cider vinegar and an egg are main ingredients) and I found the recipe on Epicurious. The day before was sandwiches from Ithaca bakery, grocery shopping at Green Star Market, and a quick stroll around the Ithaca Commons downtown (which sadly has little to offer.) we also had good pizza at Salt Point Brewery in South Lansing, which closes pretty early (9 pm) on a Saturday night, at least by Chicago standards.
At Johnson Museum
And of course, a highlight was another late afternoon swim at “the lake.” Millie our pup is a fan of the water too.
TakeBetsywithyou 