Homeward Bound

I left Matt, Melissa and Ozu's home this morning, bound for home.  I am so grateful for their hospitality and for that incredible sushi experience!

I went to the Berkeley Bowl before I left the Bay Area.  It is an independent grocery store renowned for its extensive produce section.  I was looking for tamarinds but I couldn't find any.  So I bought three different kinds of pluots (they had at least 6 varieties of pluots) and a peach for my drive home.  It was six hours of driving time home and I stopped only for gas and restroom breaks.  I hit the LA area right at rush hour.  I didn't miss traffic in LA while I was gone.

I was home by 5:30 p.m. and I spent the entire evening unpacking, doing laundry and taking an initial look through my mound of mail.  

It is amazing how much of snail mail is from corporate America trying to sell me something I don't want.

I used to bring my suitcase in at the end of a vacation and let it languish in the corner for several days.  Bryan hated that we didn't immediately put things away.  He wasn't obsessive about most things but he liked to unpack and put things away as soon as we got home.  So I am in the habit of doing that now and I prefer it.  When I get up tomorrow I won't be searching for my comb or my razor.  But I did notice that I felt anxious to get everything cleaned up and in the right place.  I am guessing this restlessness is muscle memory -- the need to have everything washed and put away so that I can jump back in to work.  

The good news is that I am retired.  I don't have to do anything tomorrow.  I can sleep in and stay in my pajamas all day if I want.  I can decide to look up a recipe in Bon Appetit and spend the day cooking.  I could drive to Laguna Beach and sit next to the ocean.  I could read a good book.  I don't have to produce anything!

I left on this journey 6 weeks ago.  I put 8,199 miles on my car.  I didn't have an accident or get a ticket.  My car ran fine -- except the air conditioner seems moody.  I am so grateful that nothing untoward happened. 

I will be spending the next several weeks processing this trip and what I learned, who I got to see and what I loved so much I want to do again.  But for now I am grateful to be home.  I look forward to waking up in my own bed; making a cup of coffee exactly the way I like it; riding my e-bike; tending my roses; cooking for myself; not living out of a suitcase; washing clothes when I want to without having to make sure I have enough quarters; watching my favorite shows; taking a walk in my neighborhood; and seeing friends.  I loved every adventure and experience I had on this trip and I love being back in Claremont.

Best Sushi of My Life

When I visit Matt and Melissa I have some things I like to do while I am here while they work.  I took off around 11 for Fourth Street in Berkeley.  There are shops there I like to wander through but first I ate brunch at Oceanview Diner.  I have been there several times.  They know how to make a soft poached egg without it swimming in water when delivered to my table.  The bacon is crispy and they serve the best home fries.  It is an employee-owned restaurant and the service is a well-oiled machine.  I sat at the counter, next to a photo-journalist who had been sent to take photos of the place.  Besides being a diner they run a bakery next door.  I asked them what pie they were serving today -- key lime and coconut cream.  I ordered a piece of the coconut cream just in case Food and Wine have overlooked this place.  It was okay but A La Mode Pies in Seattle has a better coconut cream pie.  

I poked through the stores I like to visit on Fourth Street and then I went to get my nails done.  When I returned in the late afternoon we headed over to the Berkeley Farmer's Market two blocks from their home.  Matt wears his mask around his neck on a chain whenever he leaves the house.  I bought some tomatoes to bring home with me.  They were too beautiful to pass by.  

I took a little nap before we all headed into San Fran to Hinata.  Matt and Melissa had read in my blog that I had the Best sushi of my life in Banff, Canada.  They took it as a challenge to change my mind.  I decided that I need to write about the "best" often so others can take up the challenge to change my mind on other things -- best helicopter ride of my life, best ice cream of my life, best cake of my life, etc. etc.  Feel free to take up the challenge.

Hinata is an omakase style Japanese restaurant.  Omakase is a Japanese phrase which translates "I will leave it up to you."  They have two seatings a night and Melissa had requested that we sit at the counter where we could watch the chef create our food.  Each nigiri served is a performance that ends in a work of art.  We were seated in front of Chef Gavin, the owner and head chef.  

I admit I was apprehensive about this experience.  Matt is the one who convinced me (at age 58) that I actually like sushi.  But my sushi experiences have stayed within a very small boundary.  I figured I would be eating things tonight that were completely new to me.

Matt ordered a bottle of sake that promised to taste like freshly fallen snow.  We started with an appetizer of ocean trout, Okinawa seaweed and eel rolled omelet.  

Everything is precise and exact and slow so that you can enjoy each moment.  It felt almost reverent.  We began our journey through twelve beautifully created nigiri.  This is the Goldeneye snapper with caviar.

Sea urchin with salmon roe.

Japanese barracuda.

Melissa engaged the chef about how they get their fish from the Tokyo fish market -- it is flown in first class twice a week.  She was knowledgeable enough to have a real conversation with him and it made him more attentive to us.

The whole experience was magical.  Matt ordered the supplement of three more nigiri for all three of us because he wanted to end on the Hokkaido Sea Urchin.  Uni is rich and buttery and exquisite.  

But the chef wanted us to end with the Hakkaido Hairy Crab with melted miso butter and since this is an omakase style Japanese restaurant we "left it up to" the chef.  It was the right ending.  We all closed our eyes and savored every flavor.  

But that was not the end of the experience.  We were brought fish broth/miso soup to end the savory part of our meal.  Then the dessert of sorbet with some kind of crunchy salty morsels on top.  We left sated but not stuffed.  It was the best sushi of my life. 

From Humboldt County to Berkeley

I left my sliding glass door open last night and I awoke to the sound of waves and barking sea lions.  It was low tide and showed the black sand of this area of coastline.

Shelter Cove, CA has a population of 500 most of the year but it increases to 700 in the summer.  Unlike any other experience I have had of staying near the beach this town is not overcome with tourists.  I hardly saw anyone else.  A sheet in my room told of the places I could find food.  There was only one place open for breakfast on a Monday.  I headed there but made a stop along the way to watch the harbor seals.

Coffee and a bagel purchased I drove around the burg of Shelter Cove.  I waited for a fox and a deer to cross the road.  The small number of humans here means a larger population of other animals.  I found myself thinking of how I would like to come here again and stay longer.  My harrowing drive of yesterday was already receding from my memory.  But as I drove out of town my body reacted viscerally.  I really was frightened yesterday,  I hoped that my experience out of here would be better than my experience coming here.  It was.  There was actually a center line and two lanes on the Briceland Road.

Instead of heading south to Matt and Melissa's home in Berkeley, I headed north to the Avenue of the Giants -- another scenic drive according to National Geographic.  This time I did more research.  I have been driving through redwood forests but there was no safe place to stop and walk through these majestic trees.  The Avenue of the Giants has multiple places (with safe turnouts) where you can get out and hike.  The road was lovely.

I got out for a walk and had the forest to myself.

I have been in Humboldt County renowned as the place where hippies moved from San Francisco to live off the grid.  With the legalization of marijuana, former off-the-grid cannabis growers have gone into an existential crisis.  To now grow pot legally requires following regulations about use of water, protection of the spotted owl, etc., etc.  These are people that have avoided contact with lawyers and governmental agencies.  I would say the vibe in Humboldt County is wary.  There are also many artisans here.  You can stop on the side of the road for all your tie-dye needs or to buy a statue fashioned by a chain saw.

I stopped to drive through a tree.  But as I got ready to do it I realized just what a tight squeeze it would be.  The minivan family in front of me took care of me by tucking in my sideview mirrors, taking photos with my cell phone and safely directing me through this claustrophobic experience,  They were fun and open and definitely not from Humboldt County.

I finally headed south towards Berkeley.  I made one stop in Healdsburg in wine county.  I wanted to bring Melissa a gift.  Melissa is not a huge fan of sweets but she does love ham.  I had looked up a specialty butcher in Healdsburg.  When I saw them in Portland a few days ago I had brought Matt some fair trade truffles from Fran's Chocolates in Seattle.

I got to Berkeley before rush hour got too crazy.  It is so good to see them and be in their home.  We ate Korean food for dinner and watched Nathan Fiedler's new (very bizarre) show -- The Rehearsal.  Matt showed me what I can do to help the editing process of my podcast.  My road trip is bookend with visits with my sons of their partners.  It is a great way to begin and end this adventure.

Ms.Toad's Wild Ride

I set my alarm to rise early this morning.  I am staying in an oceanfront hotel in Shelter Cove, CA for the night and I was eager to get there.  A friend gave me a book before I left on this road trip.  It has the most scenic drives for every state according to National Geographic.  It has multiple drives for California and one of them is along the Lost Coast, of which Shelter Cove is part.  I didn't do my due diligence before I set out on this trip.  I was going to come in by a more traditional route but there are several active fires I wanted to avoid.  The largest of them is the McKinney fire which, as I write this, has consumed 60,000 acres and is only 40% contained.  Following the route suggestion from the book I was gifted, I used Google Maps to set my route last night.  It said it would take a little over 7 hours. I didn't bother to consider what that meant if I was going 300 miles in 7 hours.  I blissfully set off to experience a day of beauty that would end in an oceanfront room.

I actually headed north for this trip south.  I went up through Medford and got off the I-5 at Grants Pass.  I traveled through beautiful, mountainous country.  Anytime someone came up behind me and rode my bumper I used a turnout.  I wanted to enjoy the ride.  I opened my sunroof and let the smells of the forest make me grateful.  There was a heavy fog in the forest and it rained off and on.  There were redwoods and ferns.  It was lovely.

Crescent City is where I finally saw the ocean.

I stopped in Crescent City, CA in search of a sandwich. I wasn't hungry yet but I had noticed as I plotted out my route the night before that there probably wasn't much to eat along the way.  I stopped at a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant and ordered their Godfather sub to go.  I put it in my cooler.  I felt like such a good planner.  I imagined myself at a roadside table overlooking the ocean where I would eat my sandwich. I drove along the 101 in the Redwood National and State Parks.

I put on the California playlist I had created the night before.  I must say, there are some excellent songs about California.  The road is beautiful and a little bit challenging.  It is hard to do upkeep on a road buffeted by the harshness of the weather near the ocean.  The views are worth the drive.  I was singing and feeling like everything was right in the world.  At Orick I stopped to admire four beautiful elk who were resting.

I stopped at Big Lagoon to watch two kayakers enjoy the day.

I kept on moving because I knew I had 7 hours of driving time and I wanted to enjoy my oceanfront room.  But the ocean kept enticing me to stop for one more beautiful view.

Everything was going excellently until I got off the 101 at exit 692 to take Highway 211 to the Lost Coast.  What I know now that I didn't know then is why it is called the Lost Coast.  In 1930 this area began to experience depopulation.  The steepness and other challenges related to its geography make it too costly for state and county roads to establish routes through this area, leaving it mostly undeveloped.   

My book's route began in Ferndale, a quaint little town that time forgot.  It still has a Rexall Drug and the main thoroughfare through town is lined with old Victorian homes.  From Ferndale I headed up Matole Road.  After I got to my hotel, I read this about Matole Road in an online article about dangerous roads in the 48.  

The road is mostly paved....It's rough at times...Do not do this in the rain (or after a recent rain), or in the dark...The road has some steep grades...Expect large and innumerable potholes and even places where the road is half washed out.  The area is seismically active, so be prepared, and take note of the tsunami warning signs and evacuation routes posted along.  It is mostly two-lanes, although they're usually very narrow lanes, with plenty of curves and gravelly switchbacks.

To my surprise, it was all of those things in this article.  At first I stopped to try and capture the mystic feel of the redwoods.

But stopping seemed too scary.  As I was coming down off the summit, there were signs along the way saying, "Danger.  Go Slow."  The corners were posted at 10 mph and even that seemed dangerously fast.

When I got down to sea level, I relaxed my white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and reveled in the beauty.

Then the road curved inland.  By the time I got to Petrolia, I was contemplating getting out the pee funnel I also received from my friend for this road trip.  I stopped at the general store in town, bought a sparkling water and asked to use the bathroom.  She told me the public wasn't allowed to use their restroom but there was a community hall up the road.  I drove past this wonderful house on the way to the bathroom.

Of course, the community hall wasn't open on Sunday and so I drove on trying not to wet myself.  I got to Honeydew and ran for the bathroom, only to be stopped by a pit bull.  The owner called out, "Don't worry, if she bites you she will just spit your flesh back out."  He finally called off his dog and I hurried past this toilet to a restroom with a toilet that looked similar to the one right outside the door.

This is the point in which Google Maps dropped my route.  So I crossed my fingers and turned right.  (I should have turned left.)  The part of the Matole Road I had driven on up to this point was a walk in the park compared with the Wilder Ridge Road.  There were many places where one lane had just fallen down the canyon.  It was a ridge road so often there was a ravine on both sides of the road....or what was left of the road.  At one point there was an RV with the front half hanging off the cliff.  The side of the RV was covered with graffiti and its contents strewn all over the place.  Mind you I was not driving a UTV or a Jeep.  I was in my Hyundai Sonata Hybrid.  I prayed around every corner that I wouldn't meet an oncoming vehicle.  As I passed numerous mailboxes I prayed for the mail carrier that delivers on this route.  I thought about how I had told my children that if anything happened to me on this trip I am fine.  I have no regrets.  But suddenly that didn't feel true.  I did not want to die in a single car accident on the Wilder Ridge Road.

I finally made it to Shelter Cove Road and limped into town with hot brakes and a sense of relief I cannot describe adequately.  I knew that I was going to arrive in the hotel lobby and get sympathy from the hotel clerk.  But they have express check-in -- which means your receipt and key code are in a sealed envelope in the mailbox of the office.  My room is on the third floor in a hotel without an elevator.  I drug my luggage up the stairs and was rewarded with the most amazing view.  

I pulled out the sandwich I bought in Crescent City, which seemed like a lifetime ago.  I ate half of it as I listened to the seals bark and the waves crash right under my feet.  At 8 p.m. I walked over to the Cape Mendocino Lighthouse.  It was adopted by Shelter Cove when it was deactivated.  For a hundred years it warned ships away from the rocks 35 miles north of here.  I watched the sunset behind the lighthouse.

Then I walked up the road to a statue of a man looking down at the lighthouse.

On my way back to the hotel at dusk I saw what looked like two kittens in front of me.  They weren't kittens.  I was so glad I didn't get sprayed by skunks.  That would have made this day even more pleasant.  I sat on my balcony and enjoyed the ocean.

The moon is not full but it is bright and a fishing boat is out on the water.  I love the way the water glistens.

Tomorrow I head to Matt and Melissa's home in Berkeley.  Hopefully the road out of here won't be quite so nerve racking.

What's past is prologue. -- William Shakespeare

I pulled the black out curtains in my hotel room last night. This is the first time in this 6-week trip that I have stayed in a hotel by myself for more than one night.  I wanted to sleep in and wasn't sure if I was capable.  I woke up at 9 a.m. -- three hours later than usual.  I guess I need black out curtains at home.  

I spent the morning doing laundry and moving slowly.  I am leaving tomorrow for the Lost Coast of Northern California.  A friend gave me a book with the most scenic drives in the United States and the Lost Coast is one of the drives.  I figured out my route and what I want to see along the way.  Then I headed out to get my oil changed and find some lunch.  

I ate at a brunch spot that was absolutely delightful.  Then I puttered around Ashland.  I like to buy a new pair of earrings when I travel.  It is something I will wear and it will remind me of my trip.  I didn't find a pair that I absolutely loved but I did buy more greeting cards.  I know how much I love to get snail mail and I figure other people probably do also.

I came back to my room and napped.  I am whipped.  It is time to head for home and sleep in my own bed.  I only have two more stops (I think) along this journey.  I am eager to get home and see my friends and enjoy excursions with them.  

I had leftover peach pie for supper.  I went over to the Green Show Stage, right outside the Allen Elizabethan Theater.  The same man was performing tonight.  He played the dulcimer, harp, piano and 12-string electric guitar -- but not all at once.  Most people had ordered pizza to go and were having a picnic and listening to music.

I saw The Tempest tonight.  It was the best production of Shakespeare I have ever seen.  Granted, I don't have a ton of experience.  But the costumes, sound, special effects and acting was excellent.  The way they portrayed the shipwreck at the beginning of the play was brilliant.

I sat on the second row next to a talkative woman.  She is a retired school teacher and shared that she hasn't missed a season at OSF since 1977.  I have been surprised by the small crowds in the theater. She said this is their first season back since the pandemic isolated us from each other.  People continue to be wary of being together.  Plus there is a fire raging just over the border in California that has led to some cancellations of outdoor shows.  She said that a couple weeks ago Covid ran through the cast and they had to cancel shows for over a week.  All of these things have caused lower attendance.  

I walked home in the dark, grateful for this experience.  Grateful for this time in my life when I can venture.  Grateful for time with family and friends.  Grateful.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on..." -- William Shakespeare

This was a long day. I awoke early.  Gayle headed home today.  She scheduled a flight home from Portland to Kansas.  Her son and her family are arriving from Alaska and she is eager to see them.   She insisted on scheduling a shuttle to the airport so I didn't have to get ready early.  Stubbornness runs in the family.  I waved good-bye to her as the shuttle drove off.  I was a bit weepy as she left.  I love my sister and I am so grateful for this time together.  

I went back to the room and got ready for the day.  My son Matt and his girlfriend Melissa are in Portland this weekend and they asked me to have brunch with them this morning.  I drove over to their AirBnB and we went to Broder's Cafe.  It is a Scandanavian restaurant.  Matt and Melissa
are vacationing with another couple, who have two children. We ordered  Aebleskiver (Danish pancakes) with lemon curd and lingonberry jam for the table.  I had a delicious Swedish hash with short ribs.  Melissa got to hold the baby.

My drop dead time to leave Portland was noon.  I needed to get to Ashland, Oregon in time to use my ticket for tonight's show at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. I have wanted to attend this event since I was in college.  I had two stops I wanted to make on the way.  I wanted to get the best pie in Oregon, according to Food and Wine magazine -- the Williamette Valley Pie Company.  The store was a bit off the road in the middle of farmland but I eventually found it.  I ordered a piece of peach pie to go. I was still full from the delicious brunch.

The other stop I wanted to make was at the Rogue Creamery.  When I was in Seattle, staying with Mike and Carol, she served us some blue cheese from Rogue Creamery.  It was so good -- rich and creamy.  As I was driving down I realized that they might be closed when I got there.  Sure enough they close at 5 p.m. and Google Maps said I would arrive at 5 p.m. I decided to see if I might make it in time.  I made no more pit stops.

I arrived at Rogue Creamery and breathlessly ran through the door.  They had just started to pull in the sign on the front sidewalk but they let me (triumphantly) buy my Brutal Blue.  By the cash register they were selling individually wrapped truffles with Brutal Blue in them.  I thought that sounded so awful I had to try it so I grabbed one of them, as well.

I still had about a half hour drive to Ashland.  I realized that I had just enough time to check in, change clothes, find dinner and walk to the the theater.  But I at least had to sample the goodies from my stops.  The peach pie was good but not as good as the peach pie from Sommerset Cafe in Dover, Kansas.  A truffle with blue cheese in it is just a bad idea that cost me $2.50.  Brutal Blue is damn good!

I hustled out of the hotel in search of dinner.  I had tried to look up a nearby restaurant but it appeared that there was not much.  I was wrong. The main street of Ashland is teeming with little restaurants.  I popped into a chicken restaurant in which you can choose buttermilk, Korean or Japanese Fried Chicken.  I went with the least spicy choice.  I was well sated as I walked over to the theater.  Just as I came up the hill there was a band playing. In the center of the theaters is a grassy hill where people spread blankets to picnic and listen to the music.  The music ended promptly at 7:30 p.m. so people would go into their theaters.  The Oregon Shakespeare Festival (OSF) ran two 8 p.m. shows tonight.  

I had a ticket for Revenge Song:  A Vampire Cowboys Creation.  I had been very intrigued by the description.  Buckle up for a musical story about Julie d'Aubigny -- a queer 17th century rule-breaking, sword fighting, opera-singing transgressor of boundaries.  It'll be loud, it'll be rowdy, and it'll be hilarious!  It was all those things.

Revenge Song was performed in the Allen Elizabethan Theater.  It is an open-air theater.  I had a ticket for the center seat on the second row.  When I sat down I discovered that they were filming the performance tonight and the camera was directly in front of me.  I wished I was taller but the play was so good I never noticed the obstruction. 

They were having technical difficulties with the cameras and so the play started a half hour late.  It began with a stage hand opening at window at the top of the set and raising a pride flag. 

I entertained myself by reading the Playbill.  In the About This Production it said:

Scene:  An extremely unrealistic portrayal of late 17th century France.

Notes to the Audience:  Revenge Song contains strong profanity, nuns in garters, sexuality and sexual dialogue, alcohol and drug abuse, fisticuffs, ableist language, violence, fake blood, coercion, grooming, discussion of self-harm and scars, misogyny, and perhaps most frighteningly -- cultural appropriation.

Again, that was an accurate description and it was brilliant.  When I finished the Playbill I enjoyed the effect of the sunset over the theater.

I have had OSF on by bucket list for over 40 years and I was not disappointed! I walked home in the dark.  Ashland is a fascinating combination of shops, restaurants and bars.  I didn't realize just how close my hotel is to the action.  I am glad I don't have to navigate parking at the theaters. I am staying in Ashland for two days.  I will see The Tempest tomorrow night.

 

More Family Time

Gayle and I needed to be on the road by 9:30 a.m. today to get to Lacey, Washington to visit our Uncle Don, our father's older brother.  Mike got up and made us crumpets.  That was a new taste for both Gayle and I.  Mike and Carol are so hospitable.  They even sent us out the door with crumpets and homemade apricot jam for our breakfast tomorrow.

We headed to Lacey.  Our uncle is one month shy of 98-years-old.  Our father was number seven of thirteen children.  Don was number five.  There are only four of the thirteen left.  Don had this picture in his room in assisted living.  Our father was the one of the couch on the far right.

We had a nice long lunch with Don in the garden of his retirement community.  

Then we headed for Portland.  We quickly checked in to our hotel for the night.  We are staying near the airport.  Gayle is flying back to Wichita early in the morning.  We had made plans to have dinner with our Uncle Richard (our mother's younger brother) and his family.  We are meeting at a restaurant near his retirement community.  Our cousin Lisa and her son Alex, our cousin David, Richard and his wife  and Richard's ex-wife (the mother of David and Lisa) all joined us for dinner.

We laughed, caught up, shared memories and had good food together.  It was delightful.  I wish we all lived closer together.

Back in our hotel room, Gayle packed up and I texted with my son Matt and his girlfriend, Melissa. They are flying to Portland tonight to spend the weekend with friends.  I will meet them for brunch tomorrow morning.

Family Time

Gayle and I agreed that today begins with rest.  Our check-out time for this rental is noon.  The problem with this scenario is I wake up at 6 a.m. no matter what time I go to bed or how tired I am.  There were three skylights above our bed and I was up at 6 a.m.  Trying to be as quiet as possible I made myself a cup of coffee and sat out on the deck that looks out over Bellingham Bay.  While I was sitting there a black squirrel came running along the rail towards me before he spotted me.  When he did see me he looked like he was thinking, "What the hell are you doing here?"  He slowly backed up with his tail swishing wildly.  He finally leaped up from tree limb to tree limb to scamper across the roof.

After Gayle got up I ordered biscuits and gravy to be delivered curbside from a restaurant nearby.  We sat out of the deck and ate breakfast together.  It was lovely.  It was nice to move slowly.  We left at 11 a.m. because we had timed reservations for Chihuly Glass and Gardens.  I had figured out last night where to drop off Gayle and then go park the car before I called Mike and Carol Stern.  Mike is our second cousin and he and his wife live in Seattle.  We are staying with them tonight. Carol suggested we come to their house first and then they would drop us off at Chihuly and pick us up.  I was so grateful.  I know how hard it is to find parking in Seattle.  We got to their house in time to catch up a bit before we needed to head off.

I had been to Chihuly Glass and Gardens with my son Matt in April of 2019.  I really wanted Gayle to experience it because she works with stained glass and loves to garden. We got a wheelchair from guest services and slowly enjoyed the beauty of what Chihuly does with glass and lighting.

Then we moved into the greenhouse....

and finally out into the garden.

We sat in the Peace Garden outside the Chihuly exhibit, enjoying the amazing plants and flowers of Seattle until Carol came to get us.

When we got back to their house Gayle took a quick nap while Mike and I went for a walk to the nearby rose garden and then the Fremont Peaks Garden with an excellent view of the Olympic mountains.

Carol had fixed us a delicious dinner while we went for a walk.  We sat outside in their beautiful backyard and ate.

I told them about my pursuit of pie. Before I told them what Food and Wine said about the best pie in Washington Carol mentioned that she thought the best pie in Washington was from A La Mode Pies.  I told her that Food and Wine agreed with her.  We looked up how late they were open and there was just enough time for Carol and I to get there before they closed.  We returned with pieces of Blue Hawaiian pie (which Food and Wine mentioned), coconut cream, sour cherry and seasonal cheesecake.  We taste tested them.  I loved the coconut cream.  Gayle voted for the sour cherry.