Bay Area Wedding Part 2 (Sangeet/Wedding)

This took WAAAAAAY too long to finish because I'm a horrible procrastinator, but please enjoy all the same.

June 22 (Friday)

Awaking too early for the amount of booze consumed the night before, our groom refused breakfast before downing a glass of water and heading back to his bed. We decided to make breakfast anyway, so while my traveling companion got up from the air mattress we thankfully brought along, I rose from the groom's couch, where I had spent the night comfortably. Rooting around the kitchen for supplies, we found some eggs, cheese, a few assorted vegetables and not much else so I volunteered to walk to the Whole Foods 4 blocks up the street. The 60 degree, overcast, average San Fran morning helped me to shake off the hangover on my way to and from the store.  Among the items I picked up were bread, bacon and fresh fruit, yet in my fuzzy minded state I forgot to get milk, the main item we needed in the first place! Luckily the groom was mobile a half hour later when I returned and he pointed out that there was some milk in the door! (Hooray, I'm not in the doghouse!) Anyway my fellow groomsman made a delicious frittata with eggs, veggies and cheese, served alongside bacon, toast, and fresh fruit that was exactly what we all needed at that moment (Sorry, no pictures! I was not in the mood...).  And of course there was some help from lots of delicious coffee.

Sangeet. The bridesmaids and groom's mother are dancing.

We did have time to recover as the only event planned that day was in the evening, so we spent a few hours watching Euro Cup before cleaning ourselves up and heading back to the groom's parents' house. This house is pretty much made for a garden party, with a broad porch balcony overlooking the sunken backyard and swimming pool.  There they hosted the Sangeet, a traditional Indian bridesmaids' party which served as rehearsal dinner in the Indian-American fusion wedding theme. (In the modern way, men were invited as well.) This also would have been a beautiful dinner party even if it did not have the ceremonial proceedings, featuring lights strung from trees and balconies and delicious catered food and wine.  It didn't end there though, for the entertainment consisted of bridesmaids dancing to traditional music and singing songs praising the groom's superior car, wealth, and occupation. We were also introduced to much of the bride's wonderfully sweet family who immediately made us feel like we were very dear cousins who had traveled from afar for the event.  The festivities lasted through nightfall as we got to better know the family and friends.

June 23 (Saturday)

Falafel's Drive-In. Falafel pictured at bottom.

This was essentially a “rest day” before the wedding.  Once again we were allowed to sleep in and indulge in late breakfast and today we were even up for a quick workout in the hotel gym.  Whilst scooping the groom at his parents' house, he informed us that he was supposed to eat vegetarian meals only before the wedding.  So we went where his father suggested, Falafel's Drive-In, which has been featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.  I have never been a falafel fan, and I'm sorry to report that this roadside stand with ample parking and a large number of covered outdoor picnic tables for dining in did not change my opinion of it.  Not to say it was bad or anything, maybe I just don’t like that food.  The dolmas, or seasoned rice-stuffed grape leaves, were very good.  I sampled my friend’s gyro, and it was also very tasty, having a squishier texture than most I've tried, though it maintained a greasy, fresh, meaty flavor.  The crowning achievement of this popular roadside eatery has to be the banana shake, which tasted super-fresh and had flavor just like eating a sweetened, extra-delicious banana.  I would return just for that.

Our manly henna tattoos.

Next I went to pick up a friend who was flying in, then went directly to the bride’s parents’ house to get  incredibly detailed freehand henna tattoos.  Our friend happily stuffed his face with some homemade Indian cuisine there and the Indian matriarchs stared in awe before gleefully pushing more upon him.  We weren't hungry as we were still full of falafel.  The henna tattoos are an Indian wedding tradition for the women, and supposedly the darker the bride's tattoos, the stronger the marriage will be.  Thus she basically wore bandages over them for the 2 days before the wedding.  The night ended with some beers and some board games with close friends at the groom's parents' house.

June 24 (Sunday - The Wedding!)

We woke up early to get ready for the big day, donning our groomsmen tuxedos right after breakfast.  On the way home the previous night, my car tire pressure sensor claimed one of the tires was low so I got ready quickly and drove over to the nearest gas station, where I filled my tire up while wearing a tuxedo.  I laughed a little at how crazy that was and wondered how often he gets that.  Disaster was averted - no leaks occurred for the rest of the trip.  We drove to the wedding site in Fremont, Palmdale Estates, a gorgeous old convent with lots of trees and pristine grassy areas.  It is clear why it is a popular wedding locale.  Chairs were lined up on the grass in a clearing under the shadows of giant hundred-year old trees.  The groom arrived separately, driven by his best man/brother, and looked sharp in his best sherwani, a cream-colored fabric with intricate branch-like weaving.

And... the horse he rode in on.

The modern Indian wedding is symbolic of ancient times where a prince would enter a village and impress the townsfolk and the bride's family with his wealth and power.  If he did so suitably the family would give the daughter's hand in marriage to the prince.  To emulate this, the groom was to ride in on a horse!  Too bad the horse was stuck in traffic-- the wedding began about 45 minutes late because the horse had not yet arrived!  When it did get there they dressed it in beautiful garments and the groom mounted the horse with his young cousin in tow as well (another tradition). Then the groomsmen (myself included) led a dance-filled procession of the groom's side of the wedding ahead of the horse, around the grounds. Drummers kept a beat for us to dance to and we led the dance-procession to the ceremony clearing, where the bride's family joined in!

I realize I'm getting long-winded here and this is supposed to be a food blog so I'll try to finish quickly.  The rest of the ceremony was a beautiful, meaningful, traditional format, with most of the close family members playing the part by wearing traditional Indian clothes.  The bride looked radiant and her wardrobe choices throughout the night were stunning, from a traditional sari at the ceremony to a more modern Indian garb for the first half of the reception, to a sleek silvery number for the dancing portion of the reception.

We were well stocked

A few food-related items on the reception:  The BEST lamb vindaloo I have ever eaten, not that I've tried many, but man was it incredible.  I tasted scotch that was old enough to buy its own scotch, which was better than I could have imagined.  And there was a truck with an oven onsite cooking the Indian bread naan fresh for us and kept it coming... wait for it... NAAN STOP!  (It was a bad joke then too.)  The reception perfectly celebrated these two wonderful families with heartfelt speeches and toasts and dancing through the night.  I'm grateful to be able to call these people friends.

June 25 (Monday)
We got a late start back on the road to LA as it was a late night. I wanted to drive down Pacific Coast Highway (CA 1) for the miles and miles of incredible vistas, and the weather could not have been more amazing for it. A considerable amount of construction is in progress and it delayed us a bit. I didn't mind though because we were surrounded by beautiful ocean views for miles and miles on our way to the next stop: Hearst Castle, perched on a hilltop ranch in San Simeon, CA.

The facade at Hearst Castle

The outdoor pool at Hearst Castle

The indoor pool at Hearst Castle

William Randolph Hearst was an extremely wealthy man who built a humongous mansion (and several giant guest houses) a 4-hour drive north of Los Angeles.  He was an avid art collector and after his death the mansion was donated to the state as a museum of vast proportions.  A few photos follow.  Definitely worth seeing if you happen to find yourself in the Paso Robles vicinity.

Linn's Olallieberry pie

For dinner we stopped in the nearby town of Cambria, CA.  We found a hearty dinner with a local feel at Sow’s Ear.  (They have an expansive wine list.) Finally we wandered across the street to Linn's for some GREAT Olallieberry pie.  This mix of blackberry and raspberry pie sure was a winner, served warm with that scoop of vanilla on top.  I'm amazed we were able to get home without falling asleep at the wheel after that!

Bay Area Wedding Part 1 (The 101)

One of my good friends from college recently got married near San Jose.  As San Jose isn’t too too far away from Los Angeles (~6 hours each way), I thought it would be fun to take a few extra days off from work and drive there and back.  The groom asked me and another good friend to be groomsmen, for which we graciously accepted the honor.  That other friend lives in New York and he agreed it would be a nice vacation to drive around the Golden State with me.  And thus he flew into LAX to be with me for the long hauls there and back.  I was happy to have his company as it’s far more fun to share travel experiences with someone than merely recount time spent alone on the internet for you, dear reader.

June 21

We departed early in the day (about 7:30AM) to avoid as much of the legendarily horrendous LA traffic as possible.  For those Californians who must know, I decided to take the 101 north so that we could see some beautiful, varied scenery and stop at a nice spot like Paso Robles for lunch along the way.  It is hillier and slower than the other route, I-5 north, but that goes through the desolate Central Valley and includes over 4 hours of driving in a straight, flat line in 100 degree heat until you reach Pacheco Pass, a peacefully hilly area that passes a reservoir and some windmills.  Additionally, the only legitimate option for food that I know about along that route is the In-N-Out at Kettleman City.  Fully weighing the pluses and minuses, let it be known that you will smell manure and see cows due to nearby in parts of either route.

101 North Through the Santa Ynez Mountains

Escaping LA via 101 in the westerly direction was not rapid, yet not difficult on that weekday morning (I’m always amazed how many people live so far away in the valley) and after leaving the traffic behind we enjoyed the beauty of the trees and flowering plants lining the center of the road and the serene blue of the ocean on the west for the portion from Ventura to Santa Barbara.  Then the road turns northerly and heads on a winding uphill route over the Santa Ynez Mountains before descending back slowly into what is known as the California wine producing region known as the Central Coast.  About 40 minutes after passing through the pretty seaside city of San Luis Obispo, we arrive at Paso Robles, one of the few incorporated cities of the Central Coast.  By this time, four hours had elapsed and it was a good time for a break.

The Central Coast wineries, while not widely known when compared to the likes of Napa and Sonoma, produce some high-quality red varietals, especially Zinfandel (I mean the red; don’t even try to tell me the white is to be considered wine).  To get some recommendations of wineries to visit, my companion phoned his parents who exclaimed that Paso Robles had “GREAT” wineries, and found one they liked that was somewhat close to the highway for us to visit.  Turley had a beautiful setting with flowers and trellises leading up to their doors.  The newly constructed tasting room was gorgeous as well, affixed with rich wood everywhere including the bar.  Their zinfandels did not disappoint, and I recommend a visit if you happen to be in the area.

After conversing with the cheerily friendly and grandmotherly bartender, and telling her we had been told Justin was a great one to visit (it was later also recommended by a coworker), yet was too far from the highway for us, she suggested we drop by at the much closer Lone Madrone, which employed the same winemaker.  The five minute drive took us past serene vineyards and hills covered in golden hay (I yelled HAY! a few times to startle my friend), depositing us on a main stretch of road lined with wineries in both directions. Pulling into the gravel lot, we saw local herbs for sale.  I love smelling things so this was exciting.  Their tasting room is set in an old farmhouse style building, which was nice enough, but their wines were lacking distinction or interesting flavors; I would go so far as to call them generic.  The exception was a good barbera offered to us that was not part of the standard tasting menu, so not all their wines were disappointing. I enjoyed much more heading outside and smelling the ~10 types of basil in the herbs for sale area.

To cap off the tastings, we stopped at the Firestone Walker Brewery, where the tasting room held many eclectic selections along with some old favorites.  I am a big fan of their Double Barrel Ale which brought us there in the first place, though opted for some of the more exotic offerings on tap.  The most interesting was the anniversary blend which is a mix of most of the beers brewed on site, leading to a potent cocktail with a few too many flavors.  I also enjoyed the uniqueness of the Parabola brew, and bought a bottle to share with my friends when I got home, along with a 6-pack of pale ale to give to the groom.  To sober up for the rest of the drive, we headed next door for lunch at the Taproom, with an upscale pub-like interior and all those beers we just tasted on tap.  The food was ok, nothing stellar, and we opted to not indulge in more beer so we could survive the remaining 3+ hours of the drive.  I promised that for my next visit I would stay a few days and try more of these local beers and wines.

Hopping back on the 101, the next section of the trip was uneventful, lined mostly by green or golden hills and trees and a surprisingly high number of cars also taking this route north.  The first sign that we were once again near civilization is Gilroy, which my companion excitedly noted was home to an annual garlic festival.  The next half hour of driving grew increasingly more suburban as we neared San Jose.  We stopped momentarily to pick up the groom at his parents’ house in a San Jose suburb, then headed up the east side of the bay in rush hour traffic to prepare for the bachelor party.  This horrendous traffic heading towards Oakland on a Thursday afternoon was worse than even that of the standard Los Angeles backups and we thanked goodness for carpool lane access.  Dinner was retrieved from the Berkeley collective known as The Cheese Board, a pizza Mecca adjacent to a cheese shop with a constant line out the door.  They serve one type of pizza per day and when it’s gone, you are SOL.  Today’s selection turned out to involve zucchini and some white cheeses, along with the standard brushing of garlic olive oil that makes anything they serve delicious.  I am told their “Magic Pizza” is heavenly.

At Smuggler's Cove, San Francisco

The final link to San Francisco awaited.  Across the enormous Bay Bridge we headed.  Then a quick stop at the groom’s apartment to eat the pizza and change into some less sweaty clothes, and off to bachelor partying!  It started at an incredible bar known as Smuggler’s Cove, a pirate themed bar specializing in rum drinks made with the freshest ingredients, complete with weathered wood walls and a waterfall.  The bartenders wear Hawaiian shirts and know how to make a multitude of cocktails, so ask them for a suggestion if you are intimidated by the 10 page drink menu.  If it’s your first time visiting, keep your eyes peeled for the bouncer outside: there is no exterior sign.  I can’t gush enough about how much I enjoy the 4oz painkiller cocktail, it has everything delicious in it and as implied by the name, 4 ounces of rum.  Take a cab or the BART when you finish the night here because you won't be able to drive.  And if you are able to drive you're not doing it right.  I’m not at liberty to divulge what happened next so let’s leave it there for now.  The rest of the story soon!