Scribbles & Munch

      It's my fault for trying to have a life, it keeps me away from my computer. :-P
      Actually, I thought I posted this last week, but it would seem I wrote it all and then forgot to hit "publish," which makes me feel like a proper ding-dong. I guess that means I've got back-ups, now. So last week two weeks ago, I was visiting my brother in San Francisco. This trip had the triple advantages of a) seeing my brother, who is awesome, b) being in California instead of Ohio in the winter, which is doubly awesome, and c) giving me an opportunity to inspect the site where my current writing project is set.
      As an unpublished writer, I realize that my opinion holds relatively little weight, but nevertheless I strongly recommend visiting the placing that you write about. We have all these pre-conceived ideas about locations, and actually going somewhere can be not only enlightening, but inspiring. Alas, San Francisco has almost zero resemblance to its 1860's state, since it was demolished by the double-disasters of earthquake and fire in 1906.

Now that's intense.

      So unfortunately, I can't visit any historic houses or hotels like I've been able to do in Boston, Victoria, and other cities. But my story is about much more than a city, it's about a unique corner of earth where, despite the interference of the human race, the sun still shines, the wind still blows, and the most of the same species of plants still grow on more-or-less the same hillsides. And natural landscapes have a LOT to offer. When I think of Northern California in the mid-19th century, I usually think dust, and pine trees, and a booming City By The Bay washed with a little fog. And wow, is that a narrow image of what actually goes on down there.
      You see, the Bay Area is comprised of a series of micro-climates. Check out this picture:

      Lovely view, isn't it? That's from Golden Gate Park, by the USS San Francisco Memorial, looking northeast out to the bridge. Now let me point out a few things. See those lush trees and bushes right ahead of me? That's because this hillside faces north, and a lot of the rain blows in from that direction, making this particular part of the cliffs a temperate rain forest. But zoom in on the hills across the water, on the left side of the picture, and you'll see dry patches and more sagebrush, because that's in a rain shadow, and gets far less precipitation. Of course, the cool air blowing in from the ocean behind me brushes up agains the tall hills, condenses, and starts forming it's own little rain cloud pockets, which then pour back down the hills, which is what you see happening with that grey smudge crowning the hill on the right side of the photo.

That's the Pacific Ocean out there to the left. That's a private boat with a red sail there in the middle, looking almost unreasonably picturesque.

    Turn just 45º to the left and I could see the famous S.F. fog coming in low and white over the water. And there's the beautiful evergreens, sculpted by wind and sea spray, some of them older than the city itself. But then when I drive out of the city to the south, it gives way to dust-colored earth and scrub brush when I turn away from the Santa Cruz Mountains. (Which I couldn't get a picture of, because I was driving.) It's so inspiring to walk around these places and imagine prospectors lugging their equipment onto river boats and heading east, and muddy streets crowded with people who had lived in one place and been told they were citizens of Mexico, citizens of the California Republic, and citizens of the United States, all within the space of a few years. I felt like I could take my laptop to any park bench and write for hours.
      But I didn't do much of that on this trip, truth be told--I was hanging out with my brother, and that means food! We decided the time had come to try Alton Brown's Caramelized Grape Pie, which was one my pie list for quite awhile but never quite got made. So we painstakingly washed, drained, and macerated the grapes in a honey-brandy liquid over night...

After draining, the leftover soaking liquid made a number of tasty cocktails.

...made our graham cracker crust and sour cream mixture...

...folded fruit & cream together, and spread accordingly...

...then made a brown-sugar toffee sauce to pour over the top.

      It was hard letting it chill for an hour when all we wanted to do was dig in, but - in the words of A.B. himself - our patience was rewarded. It was sweet and tangy, crunchy and smooth, and we ate it for breakfast for the next couple days.

Doesn't matter if it's pretty, because it's about to be demolished.

      You can argue semantics over whether or not this is actually a pie, but frankly I don't care: it was tasty.