Lars in the Labyrinth

Words by Johanna Harlow

The labyrinth of life draws us all along unexpected paths. Can we embrace the journey despite its twists and turns? Can we trust the process, forging onward through the bumps in the road? For Lars Howlett, labyrinths and life lessons are intertwined. “I feel like labyrinths are an incredible tool for personal transformation—to set an intention or to solve a problem or to mark a period or transition in time,” he observes.

Lars’ career path as a designer and builder of winding serpentine footpaths (as well as a facilitator of contemplative walks) certainly took an unforeseen twist. His personal life too has taken him in unexpected directions. As Lars shares, “Through love, loss and new beginnings, meditative walks have helped me maintain balance, cultivate inner peace and continue to step forth with courage and curiosity on this journey, along an ever-unfolding path.”

Entering the Labyrinth

Now don’t get it twisted: labyrinths are not mazes. “A maze has dead ends and choices,” Lars differentiates. “It’s meant to be disorienting—and a game, really.” Its walls also conceal your direction. On the other hand, “A labyrinth is a meandering path that winds its way to the center… As long as you trust the labyrinth and yourself and keep putting one foot in front of the other, you find your way.”

Earlier on his vocational path, Lars worked as a photojournalist as well as a part-time high school photography teacher at Atherton’s Sacred Heart Prep. On syllabus day, Lars would take his students to the school labyrinth and they would walk the circuitous route while setting their intentions for the class. On the final day of the semester, Lars led them back to the labyrinth to reflect on their journey and consider next steps. He also returned on his own. “I found it a great way to decompress—especially if there was some difficulty with a student or it was the grading period,” he explains. “Just to kind of refresh and reconnect.”

When Lars’ long-term relationship ground to a heartbreaking halt, he built his own labyrinth in Half Moon Bay overlooking the water. (“To find myself again,” he explains.) Every time he went out to walk it, he’d find others winding along its path. Clearly, he had created a healing space.

“When feeling lost in a labyrinth, the important thing is to trust the path and continue forward, knowing that there are no dead ends or mistakes that can be made,” Lars reflected later. “I was able to cultivate acceptance and forgiveness for myself and others, realizing that the journey of life is a long, winding road.”

Moved by this grounding experience, Lars decided to attend a Candlelight Labyrinth Walk at San Francisco’s Grace Cathedral. Which led to a workshop with master labyrinth-maker Robert Ferré in the church’s basement. Which led to a trip to the Chartres Cathedral labyrinth in France.

It was a pilgrimage of sorts, Lars explains. Burnt out on photography and seeking fresh direction, he quit both his jobs, put everything he owned into storage and bought a plane ticket. After France, he traveled to labyrinths in Iona and Gotland to connect with his Scottish and Swedish heritage. “Since my future was kind of unclear, I decided to reconnect to my past,” he shares.

As Lars learned more about the enigmatic history and universal nature of the labyrinth, he became enthralled with designs dating back thousands of years. The double-spiraled Baltic Wheel of Scandinavia and the whirling chakra-vyuha of India. The 11-circuit medieval labyrinths of Europe and the square-shaped labyrinths of Rome. He discovered this “sacred geometry” could even be found hand-woven into baskets belonging to the indigenous peoples of the American Southwest. “Nobody knows who or where the first labyrinths were created,” he notes.

Turning The Bend

After returning from his trip, Lars wondered if labyrinths could become his new career path. He got his answer in a newsletter written by Robert Ferré, the same man he’d taken the workshop from all those months ago. “Our most experienced labyrinth artists are all pushing 60 years old or more,” Robert wrote. “Hello, is there a younger generation out there to carry this work into the future?”

When Lars came forward, Robert agreed to train him to follow in his footsteps. A project at Sofia University in Palo Alto would be the first collaboration of many. During another pivotal installation, Lars and Robert partnered with additional labyrinth makers at Denison University. Lars ended up rooming with Marty Kermeem—who, it turns out, installed the Sacred Heart Prep circuit that first set Lars’ journey in motion. “I saw Marty at one turn in the labyrinth and then I came back around and the next turn over, there he was again,” Lars chuckles.

In 2015, Lars founded his own business, Discover Labyrinths. Beyond work with private and institutional clients, he facilitates walks and teaches workshops through Veriditas, a community dedicated to supporting “all who wish to explore the labyrinth as a way to tap their own deepest wisdom.” With roughly 200 temporary and permanent labyrinths under his belt, Lars’ handiwork can be found across the Bay Area and beyond. Among his signature local projects: a pathway of lavender within walking distance of San Mateo County Libraries, a stone design in the old quarry site of Bernal Heights in San Francisco and an appropriately multi-colored design at San Jose’s Rainbow Park.

What you won’t find is Lars’ original “breakup labyrinth” in Half Moon Bay. After a season of healing, Lars threw the rocks back into the ocean. “I lifted the weight off of the land,” he says, explaining that each labyrinth has its own timespan. Down the road in El Granada, however, you will find a special labyrinth in an eucalyptus grove at Quarry Park. Lars built it with his then-fiancé/now-wife. He smiles when he adds that their daughter contributed her own stone to her parents’ design on a return trip.

Sticks and Stones

Like life, labyrinths are what we make of them—and the materials of Lars’ masterpieces elevate his work. Once, for a shoe drive to aid migrants, Lars formed a footpath out of donated sneakers. On another occasion, Lars utilized stacks of textbooks at a teachers conference.

On a personal note, Lars once repurposed the remnants of a shipwrecked fishing boat that had crashed on Half Moon Bay’s rocks. “Walking that labyrinth, I realized that my life had kind of felt like a shipwreck and had fallen apart into a million pieces,” Lars reflects. “By taking those pieces and putting them back together in a new form, it was as if I had taken the pieces of my old life and put them back together in a new way that could better serve me in moving forward.”

And when his grandfather passed away, Lars commemorated the traveling geologist’s life with a pathway made from his collection of rocks from around the world. “It was really powerful to walk through the stones from all his travels, to reflect on him and reflect on his life,” Lars shares.

Lars' memorial labyrinth to his grandfather

On the lighthearted side, Lars’ cheekiest design consists entirely of lawn flamingos (built for appreciative attendees of a labyrinth conference in Florida). “A lot of people think the labyrinth is very solemn,” notes the pathmaker, “but you can have fun in the labyrinth. You can dance a labyrinth. You can laugh through the labyrinth.”

So find your own twisting path. And see where it takes you.

around the bend

discoverlabyrinths.com

Labyrinth as Meditative Practice
(Created by Lars Howlett, Veriditas and Shauna Shapiro)

+ Set an intention. Focus the walk on a question/theme, 
or simply commit to experiencing your experience.

+ Attune to your emotions and attitude. Give yourself 
permission to feel and respond honestly and openly.

+ Prepare by focusing your awareness in the present. 
Quiet your mind and listen to your breath.

+ Follow the pace your body wants to go. Your stride 
may change throughout the different stages.

+ Feel free to move around others or let others move 
around you. This is easiest to do on the turns.

+ The path is a two-way street: people may be coming 
out as you go in. Do what feels natural when you meet.

+ If you are walking as a group, allow a minute for 
others who are entering or exiting before you start.

+ Be respectful of others. It’s an individual and shared 
experience. There is no right way to walk a labyrinth.

Landmark: Menlo Park Train Station

Words by Dylan Lanier

All aboard! The Menlo Park Station is a gateway to Caltrain rides up and down the Peninsula, but it also provides a journey into the past. Built in 1867 by the San Francisco and San Jose Railroad Company, the structure is the oldest railroad passenger station in California. The main building’s nostalgic design reflects the styles of a bygone era. First fashioned in the image of a picturesque 1850s cottage, the station received Victorian ornamentation in the 1890s to appeal to the students and visitors of the recently-founded Stanford University.

Whereas it previously took three hours to traverse the distance between Menlo Park and San Francisco, the new railway reduced travel time to just 80 minutes. This inspired city dwellers to seek out the Peninsula’s warmer weather, with many building residences, like Leland Stanford and University supporter Timothy Hopkins. In 1884, the station began providing the first telephone exchange for the area. A northwest extension was built after an influx of military personnel followed the establishment of Camp Fremont, a World War I military base located in Palo Alto and Menlo Park. For more than 50 years, up until 2020, the station provided a home for the Menlo Park Chamber of Commerce in the repurposed “ladies waiting room.” No faded relic, the Menlo Park Station remains a rich connection between the city’s past and present.

Design as Art: K Interiors

Words by Sophia Markoulakis

When we consider art in relation to a home, we think of wall art and objets d’art that fill the surfaces of our private spaces—and speak to who we are and what we want others to see in us. For the homeowners of a recent Burlingame Colonial remodel, collecting art wasn’t on their radar. Their life story together had recently begun, so interior designer Kristen Peña chose to use the design itself as “art” for the home. “Though the home wasn’t a gut remodel, we had the opportunity to touch on all of the surfaces,” she says.

Above: A custom expandable dining table paired with Hans Wagner chairs and an Apparatus Cloud chandelier are elevated by the dramatic, sultry walls painted by Caroline Lizarraga. We added an arch to the kitchen doorway and new white oak flooring to this dining room.

Accentuated by original millwork, wainscotting and other transitional details, the home transformed into a more contemporary living space with Kristen telling a new story through its design, with sparsely placed pieces of art serving as supporting elements. Kristen and her team modernized and softened interior archways, something that isn’t always a top-of-mind consideration. “That archway was speaking to me like it’s the ‘80s,” she quips lightheartedly, “and adapting interior passageways is one of the ways we approach changes.”

Kristen stripped the home of its heaviness (inlays, moldings and trims), morphing rooms into fresh canvases that could receive layers of color, shapes and textures that better aligned with the homeowners’ aesthetic. “Getting in and working on a home as early in the process as possible really eliminates the risk of having to undo things,” she notes. “You’re able to tackle the hierarchy of the design logically.”

This corner of the primary bedroom features a velvet &Tradition settee in the window alcove and a sleek vanity for makeup touchups. The walls are painted by Caroline Lizarraga.

These design layers make their presence known via surfaces like interior walls in the dining room that received custom texturing and veining by local decorative artist Caroline Lizarraga. The dramatic gold drips reflecting off the room’s deep blue walls add depth without having to source for art. One anticipates an impending convergence between a circular mirror and a similarly shaped Apparatus Studio chandelier, which effectively conjures a Warhol- or Pollock-inspired moment.

These transformations also speak to the designer’s ability to create rooms with distinctive qualities while still retaining a cohesive thread and holistic living experience for the homeowners. Expanding on that, Kristen says, “It’s about creating a foundation of space that has interesting things that your eye is drawn to. It could be shapes, colors or texture. We want the house, before we even put any furniture or textiles inside, to have its own personality.” That, in essence, is how design functions as art before anything is placed or hung.

Kristen’s knack for creating individual vignettes that draw the eye evokes a sensation that is equally exciting and restful. The vignettes convey stories through lines and the repetition of shapes in materials, fixtures and furniture. “I like to think of these moments as conversations that are happening within the design at any moment in time,” Kristen says.

This powder room features a forest green and gold Porter Teleo kintsugi wallpaper. A custom marble vanity and Apparatus sconces further enhance the jewel box space.

As you move through the house, the shift from light-filled to darker, more contemplative rooms wasn’t intentional, but more about how the homeowners wanted to feel in each space. The primary suite, for example, needed to serve as a respite. “They wanted a space that was cozy and nurturing,” Kristen relays. The use of color and design via texture on the walls to mimic the feeling of an impending storm by artist Caroline Lizarraga is an emotional and artful contrast to the kitchen’s counter-to-ceiling marble slab with dramatic lilac veining. The decision to let the marble slab—one of nature’s most evocative creations—to speak for the space was driven by the homeowners, who really wanted the kitchen to express its own color story.

Although K Interiors is based in San Francisco, Kristen spends a lot of time with Peninsula clients, who are drawn to her signature use of color and form. She appreciates the opportunity to work on projects that often have more outdoor space and square footage for a new vision. In the case of the Burlingame Colonial, the goal was to create a space that encompassed both personality and art. “We wanted to deliver an artful space that could stand on its own but could then be layered with more things on top of it,” she summarizes. “We allowed for an art curation to develop over time as opposed to just filling the space with art.”

distinct spaces

kinteriors.com

Essay: Phone Phobia

Words by Sloane Citron

Among my many character flaws is one to do with telephones. For reasons unknown to me, I have always had a fear of the phone, not the actual device itself, but everything to do with making and answering a call. I have not made any progress on this front since I was six years old.

As a child, I hated answering our home phone, but it had to be done and done properly, always with, “Dr. Citron’s residence.” Since my father was often “on call” as an orthopedic surgeon (think motorcycle accidents), answering the phone required careful attention. I was often alone in my house, so that fell on me. My sense of responsibility in these situations overrode my aversion to picking up the receiver, which was considerable.

When I was about 25 years old, I was visiting my Dad when the phone rang. Neither of us made a move to answer it, but eventually my dad exclaimed, “Answer the phone, Sloane!” I jumped up and obeyed because that’s what I did. After the call, he chastised me for my hesitation, and I told him, “I don’t know why, but I just hate answering the phone,” to which he responded, much to my great surprise, “So do I.” Ah-ha!

I’m a grown man now, with bunches of grandchildren, and I still hate the damn phone. Email was a great gift to me, eliminating almost all of the answering and making of calls. But still there are times when the phone must be used. Ugh!

For several months, I have had it in my mind to get in touch with some old (and I mean old) friends, namely the mothers of several of my childhood classmates. Maternal figures who were especially kind to me or who made a significant impact on my life. Women I held tenderly in my heart. Week after week, I thought about calling them, but that absurd phobia lay deep in my psyche.

But finally, I said, “Enough of this nonsense!” and I started my calls, three in particular.

The first was to Mrs. Barfield. She is the mother of my lifelong friend, Bourdon, whom I’ve known since we were three. She is a lovely, elegant woman. Her warmth, love and kindness when I was a child helped make my somewhat chaotic world more secure. When I talked with her, those emotions came flooding back. We had a wonderful conversation, recalling our shared past, our common friends and the current scene with her many grandchildren and now great-grandchildren. It was with veneration and care that we ended our call.

Next up was Mrs. Altman, a woman who “saved” me during my adolescence. Her son, David, and I were the only Jews in our middle school and had grown up together at our Hebrew school. After my mother departed Amarillo and I was left with my dad (and his girlfriend, soon to be my stepmother), Mrs. Altman stepped in, and for several years, I spent all of my weekends at her home. Though her voice had softened, she was still the feisty, caring woman who welcomed me into her family. It was only as an adult that I came to realize what she had done for me and when I think of it, I always tear up. Our delightful conversation brought joy to us both.

Next, I called Mrs. Standefer, the mother of my first true girlfriend, Susan, from grade school. She has always been my champion and thinks more highly of me than is deserved. She is the type of person who enriches your life and makes you feel better about yourself with her love and zest for life. We had an engaging call all about our old days and the sparkle of Amarillo and her recently lost phone, which she never found.

Calling these women—all of whom had an extraordinary impact on my life—was wonderful. Though it took a bit of emotional energy on my part, I know that I gladdened their days by sharing and recalling the lifetime of love we have had for each other. And, as these things work out, I’m sure I received even more from these calls than they did.

I’m making an effort to do more mitzvot (good deeds). These calls are a part of that. I have a couple more to make and I can feel my body freezing up and shaking in anticipation. It’s ridiculous, I agree. Conquering fears is a lifelong struggle. But I’ve learned that plunging forward can make someone’s life a little brighter, especially your own.

Refresh Your Dress

Words by Loureen Murphy

Daisy Tinsley Barnett’s story begins like an archetypal tale. A curious girl opens a magic book that transports her into an enchanted world.

The real-life setting lies off Alpine Road in 1970s Menlo Park, where Daisy ran barefoot and free, one of three hippie children. Music played at all hours. Images emerged from Mom’s in-house darkroom. Dad crafted with wood and designed activities for a “very project-oriented” Daisy. Their daily kaleidoscope could include spontaneous kid-acted dramas before dinner. Even so, “visual learner, very social” Daisy still got restless.

Enter Encyclopedia Britannica, “a last resort” antidote for boredom. On the day Daisy turned to “Costume,” her life changed forever. Across six glossy pages, grand ladies and gentlemen paraded in rich brocades, bedecked in sashes, cuffs and ruffled collars. The splendor of clothing burst off the pages. “It took my breath away,” recalls the personal stylist and founder of The Daisy Edit. “It was a turning point for me.”


Eyes transformed, the five-year-old no longer saw apparel as utilitarian—she wanted pretty things. And to her delight, Grandma supplied. The new Daisy modeled her pivot in taste for a family outing—a party dress, knee socks and hair bow—to find they were going camping.

So Daisy changed her clothes but not her mind. “I loved fashion,” she says. Enamored by fabrics, ribbons and buttons, Daisy couldn’t shake the fear that her fascination smacked of materialism and frivolous living. So she kept it quiet. Teenage Daisy sewed for herself and sought ways to save money to buy her own clothes. She found herself “constantly poring over magazines and creating collages and mood boards.”

Then, to counter her “loosey-goosey” upbringing, Daisy aimed for a “practical, project-oriented and focused” future. After graduating from Boston University and getting married, she moved to Southern California, where she poured her intuition and energy into video production and marketing. While she “enabled people to do their best work,” Daisy craved a more direct creative outlet.

After returning to the Peninsula, the outlet came bundled as a baby girl. “She was my muse,” says Daisy, who designed and sold an array of cozy infant dresses. With the local success of the Daisy Tea line, a decision loomed—go big or go back to the office. The office won.

Her path back paved the serendipitous way forward. While at Apple, Daisy admired Senior VP (former Burberry CEO) Angela Ahrendts’ genuine interest in people and the way she “embraced her femininity.” Style-fire reignited, Daisy thought, “Maybe there’s something I can do in fashion.” A few years later, amidst the pandemic, Daisy stepped away from her career as LinkedIn’s director of media production to consider her options. How could she optimize her marketing savvy, love of fashion and passion for projects?

Daisy’s Tips: Finding Your Signature Style 
+ Be authentic. Know your “uniform,” your go-to look—whether jeans and a button-down, a monochrome palette or trousers and tee shirt. Embrace what reflects you and feels comfortable. 
+ Elevate your look with current, quality versions of key items. Look for good craftsmanship over a designer label. 
+ Add in pops of personal style with current and seasonal jackets, belts, shoes and accessories.

As that percolated, wayfarer Daisy helped a hurried friend pack for travel. Envisioning the taller woman in some of her own outfits, Daisy gathered a capsule of ensembles and useful items. Later, the friend called it the kindest, most helpful thing anyone had ever done for her. “How did you know that blue dress would look so good on me?” Daisy’s friend told her. “I never would have picked that for myself.”

Flash! “That’s when I realized I could help people.” Many “lost their way over the course of the pandemic,” Daisy explains, and after long months in sweats, they can’t imagine themselves in their former attire. Confidence drains as style identity atrophies. She discovered that what she feared frivolous proved foundational. The future founder sat down, made a business plan and launched The Daisy Edit.

Change-seeking clients now include referrals from satisfied customers, those who find her online and escapees from online wardrobe subscriptions. Many live on the Peninsula, others across the country. Daisy, smiling, calls her ability to get new acquaintances and clothe all body types with equal panache her superpower.

How does she work? After a free consultation, Daisy helps clients choose a service—anything from a one-time special-event styling to a complete wardrobe makeover with two in-closet sessions. Then, each client takes Daisy’s Style 360 Quiz “to uncover their authentic personal style.”

That means no pigeon-holing. The down-to-earth fashionista is a living fusion of elements herself—corporate and creative, Swedish and Jewish. On her crisp white bookshelves, a pair of child-sized Swedish clogs sit not far from a volume entitled Chanel. Daisy herself varies her own mode of dress depending on whimsy. She may rock ‘80s prep one day and California casual another.

“How we appear affects our mood,” Daisy observes. With a yen to lift spirits in a dopamine-deprived world, Daisy remains committed to “developing a system to help people dress and feel joyful.” Shining reviews and clients’ mirrors reflect her success.

Daisy’s Tips: Dopamine Dressing 
Wearing certain items of clothing or outfits because they elicit a feeling of joy and release dopamine is the idea behind dopamine dressing. That can mean bright colors, patterns and textures that put a smile on your face. Consider creating your version of dopamine dressing, or simply your version of dressing to feel good. Start with color, then consider joyful patterns and whimsical details. Be authentic. Dress for YOU, not for others.

Dress for YOU

thedaisyedit.com

The Beat on your Eats: Ice Cream

Words by Johanna Harlow

Not the same old vanilla—scream-worthy Peninsula ice cream shops.

rabbit rabbit cream

Palo Alto

On the Rabbit Rabbit Cream website, a warning jumps out front and center: “Products may cause happiness.” True to their word, this Stanford Shopping Center spot’s tea-flavored soft serve is quite the treat—with flavors ranging from Kyoto matcha and Iron Buddha Oolong to Thai tea and (caffeine-free) buckwheat milk tea. Opt for the two-flavored swirl if you’re having trouble narrowing it down to just one. Another tasty choice you’ll have to make is which of the numerous toppings to add. Some of the more intriguing ones include Dutch caramel stroopwafels, cotton candy crunch, pocky, toasted marshmallows, corn flakes and mini pretzels. After you receive your order at the rabbit-shaped pickup window, you can capture your first lick by the ice cream cone photo wall. 78 Stanford Shopping Center. Open daily.

humphrey slocombe

San Mateo / Redwood City

Self-described as “chef-curated ice cream for adults,” Humphrey Slocombe’s flavors surprise and delight. You’ll find tubs of Lavender Crumble and Lemon Ginger Scone alongside Strawberry Daiquiri and Cherry Elderflower. One of their newer flavors, Mango Lassi, is mixed with lime coconut curry cookies. Also expect a few tongue-in-cheek names thrown into the mix: like Harvey Milk and Honey Graham. Or Elvis: The Fat Years. If the unknown is a little intimidating, not to worry. “We let you sample everything we have,” HS promises. “Everything.” 2077 Broadway, Redwood City and 3081 S Delaware Street B, San Mateo. Open daily.

somisomi

San Mateo / Palo Alto

Who knew fish had an insatiable appetite for ice cream? “Ah-boong,” Korean fish-shaped waffles (also known as “taiyaki” in Japan), are fast becoming the Bay Area’s next food trend—meaning these cute sea creatures have come to gobble up all our sweets. We don’t really mind. This fish in the hand is worth two in the sea. In addition to the soft serve, make sure to fill your fish with custard, Nutella or cream cheese. Or try distinctly Korean fillings like sweet red bean paste and taro. But be forewarned: After SomiSomi, plain ‘ol waffle cones just won’t cut it. 440 University Avenue, Palo Alto and 134 S B Street, San Mateo. Open daily.

Sippin’ Pretty

Words by Jennifer Jory

Imagine a three-wheeled, Italian vintage vehicle rolling into your driveway. The driver pops open the side to reveal four taps flowing with Champagne for you and your guests. Say “Ciao!” to Sippin’ Pretty Bubble Bar and Tap Truck, the manifestation of local entrepreneur Holly Braithwaite’s desire to bring Old-World European charm to Peninsula backyards. “The truck makes people happy,” smiles Holly. “I can’t imagine anything better on a warm day than a cold, crisp glass of Champagne.”

Sippin’ Pretty’s origins can be traced to the small village of Mougin, France, where Holly’s husband Jean-Francois asked her to marry him. As they strolled through the streets looking for a way to celebrate their engagement, they spotted a whimsical, turquoise vintage Champagne truck lined with fluted glasses. It was the perfect way to toast their new beginning. The celebration also sparked the idea to bring a slice of Europe home to the Bay Area with their own truck and bubble bar. “I announced to my husband, ‘This is what I am going to do someday,’” Holly recounts.

Fast-forward 10 years and the notion kindled by their betrothal became a reality. Holly partnered with her mother Susan and they began to plan their new venture. “My mom really encouraged me to start the business and she now runs the back end,” Holly explains. Already a collector of vintage glasses, Holly researched vehicles and came across a three-wheeled, vintage Italian truck on the East Coast. She set to work meticulously outfitting it, selecting finishes and curating the build out of the refurbished mobile mini bar dispensary. “My style is boho, eclectic, fun and different,” notes Holly. As a final touch, she dubbed the truck Lola.

In September 2022, Holly brought Lola home to San Carlos and soon landed her first event. Jean-Francois worked alongside her and they managed the first big party together. “One of our challenges was the learning curve of tapping Champagne,” Holly laughs. “We were trying to understand how to add CO2 and testing bubbles all day. We had a lot of Champagne, but we finally mastered it.” For events, the couple teams up—Holly driving Lola to nearby festivities and Jean-Francois trailering the truck to more distant venues.


The pair first met on a match.com date at the Woodside Bakery. “We hit it off right away and had a second date that same day with our dogs,” recalls Holly. Jean-Francois’ French heritage introduced Holly to the European lifestyle. “It’s a different world there and I feel like I was meant to be European,” she describes. “The food is fresh and natural and there is a way of life that is easy-going.” Every summer, the couple return to France for several weeks with their eight-year-old son Lucca to visit the village where Jean-Francois’ father grew up.

Originally from outside Seattle, Holly traded Washington state’s cool weather to study advertising and marketing at the University of Hawaii. After college, she lived with her grandfather in San Carlos and fell in love with the Peninsula, prompting her to pursue further education at the Fashion Institute in San Francisco. Soon she built a clientele in a personal styling business. “I always wanted to work for myself and when I started doing some personal styling, the business took off,” she shares. “I love having my own schedule and being in charge of my own business.” After a while, Gucci recognized her talent and hired her to bring her expertise to their jewelry and watch division. While she continues to establish Sippin’ Pretty, Holly now applies her skills at an European-inspired jewelry brand.

Holly hopes to someday expand Sippin’ Pretty with a variety of vintage vehicles including a Vespa bar cart. “It’s a passion project—I’ve combined doing something I love and working with my mom, which is super special,” says Holly. “And my creative styling background brings something different to events.” Deploying designs that include flowers and props to fit the occasion, Holly has brought Lola to Super Bowl celebrations, birthday parties and summer soiree fundraisers with many different libations flowing from the tap.

As it turns out, Lola can accommodate almost any request. “The Super Bowl party was the first time we tried craft cocktails,” Holly says. “It was a big hit with themed decorations and a football pool.” The truck also pours Moscow mules, margaritas and beer. Her son Lucca inspires her with children’s themes ranging from an Italian soda party to a hot cocoa celebration.
Looking to the future, Holly even envisions franchising the business. “All my creative juices go into Lola and fun ideas with her,” relays Holly. “I get to meet new people and it’s always around something celebratory.”

toasting time

sippinprettytaptruck.com

Perfect Shot: Pescadero Beach Grass

Out exploring with her classic (and well-loved) Pentax K1000, Menlo Park’s Alexa Randall captured this Perfect Shot on 35mm film at Pescadero State Beach right off Highway 1. “This spot has always caught my eye because of its beautiful beach grass and epic sand dunes,” Alexa shares. “With sunny days ahead, I’m excited for more drives along the coast with the windows down!”

Image by Alexa Randall / @deerlyalexa

Calling all Shutterbugs: If you’ve captured a unique perspective of the Peninsula, we’d love to see your Perfect Shot. Email us at hello@punchmonthly.com to be considered for publication.

Diary of a Dog: Ziggy

Awoooooooooooooooo! That deep, soulful, drawn-out howl is just my longer way of saying hello. I’m Ziggy
(@zigbean on Instagram) and I’m a Bluetick Coonhound, which is the official dog breed of Tennessee. However, it just so happens that I was born in Maine and moved from Boston to Menlo Park with Aaron and Paige. During our drive out here, we stopped in Knoxville, where I was mistaken for Smokey, the University of Tennessee mascot. It was fun getting all that attention, but I’m quite content now that we’ve made our home on the Peninsula. I’m named after Ziggy Marley, and his song “True to Myself” really speaks to me because I have a lot of unique attributes. You may have noticed I have really long ears. When I was a puppy, they touched the floor and they still dip into my bowl when I’m slurping up water. I also possess an uncanny sense of smell and enjoy searching for new sniffs. As you might imagine from my introduction, I excel at singing and almost anything will get me crooning out a tune. Aaron and Paige are big fans and even asked me to be the ring bearer at their wedding. I adore them so much and especially love a good cuddle. They made a big deal of getting me my own bed with a “better” mattress than they have. But I know where I belong at night: Right near Aaron and Paige, which means digging my way to just the perfect spot under the covers.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

Q&A: Amy Guittard

Fifth-generation chocolatier Amy Guittard of the Peninsula’s famed Guittard Chocolate Company shares what surprises people about the Burlingame factory, her favorite phone app and how much chocolate she eats in a day.

What’s the best part about working in a family business?
Knowing that I’m carrying on the traditions that my great-great-grandfather started when he first founded the business in 1868. It’s both humbling and inspiring to carve a legacy built on 155 years of passion and to know that my generation has the ability to make our own imprint on the business.

How would you summarize your chocolate consumption?
I eat a lot of chocolate—milk chocolate and dark chocolate; chips and wafers. The amount depends on the day but one thing is certain, I start eating chocolate around 9AM.

Where do you go on the Peninsula to recharge your batteries?
I grew up surfing Linda Mar beach; that spot has a very special place in my heart and soul. The ocean is certainly a powerful force in calming the mind and allowing me to recharge!

What’s your favorite Guittard product and why?
Again, it depends. I’ve found myself nibbling on our 46% baking chips on the hiking trails or snacking on our organic milk chocolate baking wafers for an afternoon pick-me-up. Our single-origin milk chocolate Kokoleka Hawaiian is a favorite at any time, and you really can’t do better than a square of our 100% baking bars for that robust complexity.

What’s a song you can listen to again and again?
“Spinning Away” by Brian Eno.

What’s your favorite app on your phone?
Right now, it’s TheWonderWeeks. It gives me some clues as to what’s going on in the brain of my eight-month-old daughter.

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?
Slow down; enjoy the trip; celebrate the little wins; sit in silence.

What surprises people most when they visit your Burlingame factory?
The complexity of the chocolate-making process and also that you can’t come out of the factory without smelling like chocolate.

What was your first concert?
Phil Collins; Shoreline Amphitheater; 1994.

If you could pick a superpower, what would it be?
Breathing underwater.

What show do you consider binge-worthy?
Ted Lasso. I had my doubts, but I got sucked into it like most people I know. I’ve watched it twice over. It’s about trust, compassion, humility and love. And who doesn’t want to live a life with all of those things prominently displayed?

What’s something people are always surprised to learn about you?
That I don’t ever get sick of chocolate.

The Beat on your Eats: Vietnamese Restaurants

Words by Johanna Harlow

Venture beyond spring and summer rolls with these standout Vietnamese restaurants.

tamarine

Palo Alto

To upscale your evening, dine at Tamarine. This fusion concept with flair does beautiful things with both shaking beef and hoisin lamb chops. But if you’d like to picture yourself visiting the floating villages of Ha Long Bay with a taste of the sea, order wok-tossed calamari served with a zesty cilantro lime sauce or lemongrass sea bass with chilled mango-cilantro glass noodles. If you hope to linger a little longer under the contemporary chandeliers and amidst Tamarine’s lovely art collection, stay for dessert with melt-in-your-mouth banana beignets and ice cream. 546 University Avenue. Open daily.

pho banh mi

Palo Alto / Los Altos

Living up to the motto, “Don’t mess with a good thing,” Pho Banh Mi’s straightforward name promises the classics done well without pretension. So go ahead and bite into the traditional banh mi ingredients of pickled carrots, cilantro, cucumber, jalapeno and protein (like grilled pork, lemongrass beef or tofu) tucked into a baguette (pillowy soft on the inside, toasted on the outside). On colder nights, slurp pho-tastic bowls of rice noodles with broths. And with plenty of fruity drinks, take your pick with refreshing options like the Mango Pineapple Passion Smoothie or Lychee Delight (jasmine tea infused with lychee jelly and mint leaves). Though both Palo Alto and Los Altos locations differ in decor, both display equal amounts of charm and creativity. 405 University Avenue, Palo Alto and 696 Fremont Avenue, Los Altos. Open Wednesday through Monday. Closed Tuesday.

east side banh mi

San Mateo / San Carlos

You’ll find this gem tucked within Noshery, a contemporary Peninsula food hall that collaborates with up-and-coming restaurants. Inspired by the chef’s Vietnamese heritage and Houston upbringing, East Side Banh Mi’s sandwiches pair the traditional with a southern twist. Along with all the typical banh mi trappings, expect less common toppings—like the chicken liver and pork pâté on the Pork Deluxe Banh Mi (a favorite among customers) or the chili crisp tofu and roasted eggplant on the Vegan Banh Mi. For a more slurpable option, order yourself a chilled vermicelli noodle bowl with pork shoulder, fried shallots, roasted peanuts and citrus-soy vinaigrette. 1754 Laurel Street, San Carlos and 5 South Ellsworth Avenue, San Mateo. Open daily.

Landmark: Dumbarton Bridge

Words by Dylan Lanier

While the Peninsula’s Dumbarton Bridge may pale in comparison to the Golden Gate, it’s certainly worth its salt! Replacing the original vehicular bridge built in 1927, the current Dumbarton debuted in the fall of 1982. This impressive feat of construction cost $70 million to build and stretches 1.6 miles in length. Seven years after it opened, the original four-lane bridge was re-striped to accommodate six after the Loma Prieta earthquake temporarily closed the Bay Bridge.

What’s that smell? Anyone crossing from Menlo Park over to Fremont is all too familiar with the sulfurous stink rising from the marshlands below. You can credit that pungent odor to rotting vegetation and organisms from the evaporating salt ponds. Another interesting fact: The first cars to cross the Dumbarton Bridge paid a $0.75 toll. Today, the 70,000 vehicles that drive across each day pay $7, with another boost approved for 2025. But at least one person escaped without payment. In 1971, the classic movie Harold and Maude featured a scene where a clueless Maude drives right through the toll booth on the original bridge and speeds off after a police officer confronts her.

Adventure Out

Words by Johanna Harlow

Licking parched lips, a lone man surveys a desert canyon. The harsh sun has spiked the temperature to three digits and the terracotta hue of the canyon walls matches his beet-red face. As he sways on his feet, a disembodied voice comes to him. “See that small little beaver-tail cactus with the flat paddle? Those make perfect cooking when we get your fire started.” Not some survival-savvy guardian angel nor heat-conjured hallucination—the voice belongs to Cliff Hodges via earpiece. He’s watching through the man’s helmet and body cams as he guides him on a two-day trek to the extraction point.

This extreme sojourner is in capable hands. There’s a reason National Geographic recruited Cliff as one of two hosts for their show Remote Survival. As the founder of Adventure Out, Cliff has run an outdoor school for nearly two decades now. In addition to survival skill instruction, Cliff and his team offer wilderness medical courses, surf camps, rock climbing classes, backpacking trips and mountain biking in Pacifica and Santa Cruz.

Talk about a change of course. Cliff graduated from MIT with a master’s in electrical engineering. “It was the early 2000s,” he explains. “I was gonna do the standard tech thing.” Not long into his first job, he had second thoughts. “I was in a basement, in a cubicle, all day long, going from one meeting to the next and never seeing the sky,” he recalls. Then his dad had a stroke. He recovered, but it reminded Cliff to make life count. Soon after, he ditched the desk and fluorescent lights to start his outdoor gig.

Raised in Santa Cruz, Cliff grew up rock climbing, surfing and backpacking, but he honed his survival skills during college. Many a weekend and most school breaks, he made the five-hour drive to Tom Brown’s famous Tracker School to advance his prowess as a master outdoorsman. “I refuse to accept the notion that we’re the only animal on the planet that doesn’t know how to take care of ourselves in the wilderness,” asserts Cliff. “A deer doesn’t wake up in the morning and say, ‘Oh no. Where am I? Where am I gonna find food today?’”

With the goal of helping people “reestablish their place on this planet,” Cliff’s Adventure Out offerings push the boundaries. “People don’t really realize what they’re missing until they experience it,” he says, recalling one woman from his surf lessons. As soon as she waded into the waves… “She’s got this giddy, big smile on her face,” he reminisces. “And she goes, ‘I just realized that I’ve lived in San Francisco for 10 years and this is the first time my body’s touched the Pacific Ocean.’” He smiles. “There are so many moments like that… We have people who come out to a survival class and it’s the first time they’ve been in a redwood forest.”

It wasn’t long before MTV hired Cliff for an episode of Made. His objective was to train two teen girls from the suburbs to hold their own out in the Alaskan bush. On the trip, they hiked a glacier, built a shelter and dodged bears. “Yeah, that was a lot of fun,” Cliff grins.

A few years later, he landed on National Geographic’s Remote Survival with co-host Alex Coker. It was an unusual challenge, notes Cliff, who had to talk contestants through the mind games. “The hardest part was always trying to convince people to eat,” he recalls. He remembers one contestant refusing to eat a lizard he’d already caught and killed. “We don’t kill things for no reason and then not eat it,” Cliff reasoned. “Your body also needs calories.”

For those ready to test their mettle at Adventure Out, there are plenty of lizard-less options. The one-day prerequisite, Wilderness Skills & Survival Clinic, opens the door to a slew of advanced options like fire-making, kayak-building, trap- and snare-making, desert backpacking and winter survival.

This last option whisks participants to the Sierra. After learning the how-tos of building a snow cave and fighting exposure (all from the toasty confines of a lodge near Donner Pass), everyone straps on snowshoes to tramp into the wilderness and apply the lesson. To warm your cave with your own body heat, “You want it to be relatively small,” Cliff instructs the bundled group. “The more claustrophobic-inducing of a shelter you make, the better of a shelter it is.”

For a less shiver-inducing option, the Immersion Overnight outing involves sleeping under towering redwoods. “You’re not just building a shelter to see what it looks like and walking away. You’re building a shelter that you’re spending the night in,” Cliff explains. Also on the survival syllabus: scavenging for wild edibles and making a fire to cook dinner.

Cliff is particularly fond of the bow-making class. The skill is tied to one of his wildest personal adventures: bringing handmade weapons to a week-long elk hunting trip on a 200,000-plus-acre private property in Montana. “It’s just the most vast and immense piece of land I’ve ever been on,” Cliff describes.


Though he didn’t take an elk during his big trip, he doesn’t view the excursion as unsuccessful. “When you’re hunting with primitive equipment, you’re not really accurate beyond 20 yards,” he explains. “So the releasing of an arrow is the final moment and the culmination of days and weeks and sometimes months of work.” It’s much more about living in tune with nature by observing the herd and learning their patterns. “You watch their intergroup dynamics,” Cliff shares. “I saw elk feeding with sunsets behind them. I saw two 1,200-pound male elk engaged in a battle of dominance while I sat behind a tree eight yards away.”

If tracking interests you, Cliff recommends signing up for an Adventure Out class with instructor Jack Harrison. “He can read the landscape like most people read a book,” Cliff says. When Jack sees prints in the mud, he can tell you the who and the when. “It’s like nature’s version of a CSI forensic investigation,” Cliff chuckles.

Consider fanning the flames of your wild side (and future campfires). Say yes to adventure.

Survive & Thrive

adventureout.com

Survival 101:

The most important thing people should know about surviving the wilderness is understanding the Sacred Order of Survival: shelter, water, fire, food (in that order). “Our bodies are most susceptible to exposure,” Cliff explains. “We say, ‘Up to three hours without shelter, three days without water and three weeks without food.’” Hunkering down in a warm, dry place with water is a much better move than burning too many calories seeking food. “That’s the last thing you need to do! Most people who get lost in the woods are usually found within the first few days.”

First Through the Gates

Back in February 2021, Mike James and his wife aspired to inject a little more color into their routine. “It had been a while since we had seen Filoli,” he recounts, “so off we went to enjoy the 16 acres of gardens and get some fresh air.” Intrigued by the hint of bold hues about to explode, the San Mateo photographer devised a plan to visit regularly and create a pictorial record of the changes at the historic Woodside estate. He thought the exercise would last a few months.

More than two years later, he’s still snapping away. “At a certain point, you can’t stop,” he laughs. “I think I’m addicted. It’s like a natural treasure hunt. There’s always something that’s going to capture your attention and speak to you. You just have to find it.” For Mike, now deeply in tune with Filoli’s cycles, what catches his eye shifts from week to week, month to month, season to season and year to year.

Given that Filoli is also a popular Peninsula attraction, he added another parameter to the challenge. “There are no people in the images,” he frequently hears. “How did you manage that?” Mike’s secret: getting a head start. “I’m always the first car through the gates when Filoli opens,” he reveals. As an ode to this vibrant season, PUNCH asks Mike to share some of his favorite Filoli spring reflections and images.

“Tulips. Tulips. Tulips. Every few days there are new displays of tulips and they keep coming… It’s hard not to just shoot tulips! I have to force myself to look right and left and up and down to see what else is blooming.”

“I will remember March for the profusion of daffodils and tulips… There can’t be too many places in the world with displays this breathtaking.”

“I will remember April for the explosion of color. Colors popping everywhere and so much changing from week to week.”

“May came and went in a flash! The explosion of roses seemed to be earlier than normal, but I suspect that is more interpretation rather than fact. It remains astounding the amount and variety and age of the roses at Filoli.”

“The vastness and variety in the gardens means that there is always something interesting to see and to shoot.”

“I really enjoyed spending time with the succulents that were being staged by the horticulture team. The textures were arresting and the way light reflects through and off of these plants is fascinating.”

sample all the seasons

mikejamesphoto.com

Hilltop Haven

Words by Lotus Abrams

Interior designer Ashley Canty clearly remembers the day in 2017 when she first visited the Hillsborough home that her firm would spend the next several years transforming for its new owners, a family of four who had moved from Millbrae. Set among stately redwood trees, the hillside property served up sweeping views encompassing San Francisco and the San Mateo Bridge. The house itself, however, was dated, with dysfunctional interior spaces and a layout that didn’t take full advantage of the site’s grand vistas.

“It was a cookie-cutter ranch, and the people who had lived in it before were probably there for 50 years,” notes Ashley, who is the founder and principal designer of Interior Solutions in Burlingame. “The new owners are a young family, and they really wanted a more modern home.”

Beyond the outdated appearance of the home, the lot itself was underutilized and only partially landscaped. The new owners envisioned adding plenty of outdoor areas for their school-age son and daughter to play as well as space to host visiting family and friends. “They were looking at the bigger picture of how to develop the whole lot,” Ashley says.


The two-phase project, which began before the onset of the pandemic and wrapped up last fall, included both the remodel of the existing 3,335-square-foot five-bedroom, four-bath house and the addition of a two-story pool house designed for entertaining and hosting guests for overnight stays. With Interior Solutions lead designer and project manager Marina Berko spearheading the day-to-day details of the design process, the team got started on reworking the main house.

To achieve the modern aesthetic requested by the clients, the front exterior of the house got a facelift with a more contemporary front door and paint color. Inside, top priorities included reconfiguring the space to add an entry mudroom with plenty of cabinetry that would serve as a drop zone for the busy household, upgrading the stairwell with iron and glass, reworking the kids’ bedrooms and a den, carving out space for the kids to do homework and watch TV, opening up the primary bedroom by eliminating some ancillary closets and updating the bathrooms throughout the home.

Outside, the hilly property was terraced to create multiple areas for outdoor fun, including a turf area where the kids could play, a barbecue area, a rubberized sports court and a new pool.

The most impactful change the team made to the house, however, was to flip the position of the kitchen and dining room to better showcase the Bay views. “It was tucked away in the front of the house before,” explains Ashley. “The views are one of the primary reasons they bought this house—and the feeling of living among the redwoods—so we flipped the kitchen to the backside to achieve that. Now while they’re cooking and doing dishes, they can look at the beautiful views.”

A year and a half after the completion of the main house renovation, the family called on Interior Solutions again to help them execute their vision for a pool house that could house overnight guests and also serve as an entertaining space. Built into the hillside, the upper floor of the new two-story structure opens to the pool and features a covered loggia (outdoor patio), living room with a large-screen TV, full bathroom, mudroom and outdoor shower. The lower level includes a full kitchen, family room, bedroom and bathroom. “Everything’s electronic and all the blackout shades are motorized for a hotel-inspired feeling,” Ashley says. To match the pool house’s metal roof, the roof on the primary house was replaced with metal as well, the finishing touch that tied the new and existing structures together visually.

On the design front, natural colors and materials like stone and ceramic complement the views and surroundings rather than draw attention away from them. “We tried to blend the property into the hillside,” says Ashley, “and we wanted everything to be timeless and modern.”

Throughout the duration of the project, the clients remained engaged and involved, frequently accompanying project lead Marina on shopping trips to tile stores and furniture showrooms. The husband, an importer, also has access to many manufacturers outside the country, which helped keep the sourcing process running smoothly.

When the project culminated in a photoshoot, the clients attended alongside the team. “It was fun for everybody to get back together for the shoot, and for the clients to see their home finally done with all the special touches we brought in,” reflects Ashley. The collaborative relationship is one that Ashley is confident will continue, as her clients have already hinted that they’ll have another project starting soon. “I always tell clients that we’re not just here for one project,” she says. “We want to be your go-to designer as your life and goals change over the years.”

Hive Sweet Hive

Words by Sheri Baer

When Jen Parsons suits up for work, she covers herself from head to toe. Long gloves extend up to her elbows. A hooded veil drapes over her face. “It’s scary opening a hive of 20,000 bees sometimes,” she acknowledges. “But it’s also therapeutic and healing. You hear all the sounds and they make a different buzz when they’re starting to get irritated. It’s hard to think about anything else when you have your head in a beehive.”

As the owner of Redwood City-based State Street Honey, Jen especially appreciates being able to witness the miracle of the hive mentality first-hand. “Bees are like this super organism community that works together,” she marvels. “They are really interesting creatures and they have a lot to teach us.” Over the past year, that perception has only heightened as Jen found herself drawing strength and vital support from her own community.

A Peninsula native, Jen credits her curious, scientific mind to her father, who worked at SRI for 30 years. She met her husband, Todd Parsons, at Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, and describes him as an adventurous spirit with an “unwavering obsession” to hobbies—be it sailing, surfing, skiing, Vanagon retrofitting or piloting. Fascinated by bees since childhood, Todd eagerly agreed when Jen suggested attending a bee talk at the Portola Valley Library. After taking his turn inhaling the waxy, honey residue scent of the bee box, “My husband just got this spark in his eye,” smiles Jen at the memory, “and said, ‘I gotta have that!’”

In 2010, Todd and Jen set up their first “hobby hive” in their backyard in the State Street neighborhood of Woodside Plaza. That first colony led to three, and then 10, and then 20. In 2013, while balancing their respective careers as a professional photographer and second-grade teacher, Todd and Jen officially launched State Street Honey. Guided by the philosophy “Sustainable apiaries, honest honey,” Todd grew the business to 250 hives in seven Bay Area locations. After their daughter and son came along, Jen left her teaching job to take the lead on the homefront and help with honey sales, jarring and labeling. “We were just on the verge of going to the next level,” she remembers.

And then the unthinkable happened.

On October 28, 2021, during a solo flight from Napa to Ukiah to finish his pilot’s license, Todd’s plane crashed on landing. Struggling to process the devastating loss of her 43-year-old husband, the now-single mom faced momentous decisions. “Right after Todd died, I was asked, ‘Are you going to sell the business?’” recounts Jen with a catch in her voice. “My husband just poured his heart and soul into this beautiful business. It’s a legacy for him and our family, and my initial thought when he died was, ‘I can’t grieve this too.’”

State Street Honey’s Todd Parsons in July 2018. / Photo Courtesy of Cody Pickens

That’s when Jen’s own hive—a committed team of family and friends, including fellow preschool and elementary school parents—began buzzing around her. They brought meals. Provided childcare. Washed dishes and laundry. As Todd’s beekeeping community also swarmed in, Jen came to terms with accepting help. “Like the bees,” she realized, “we’re supposed to live more in community and have this overarching goal together.”

Having played a supporting role in State Street Honey, Jen clearly had a lot to learn. Aided by beekeepers near and far, Jen especially calls out Aidan Wing of Wings of Nature. “Aidan literally just took me under his wing and mentored me in the practical side of beekeeping,” she says. “As I got into it more, I realized how much knowledge I already had. Todd was always talking about bees: ‘They’re doing this, and the queen’s doing that.’”

After scaling back to a more manageable 100 hives and four apiaries—in Portola Valley, Half Moon Bay and Pescadero—Jen finds herself settling into a beekeeping rhythm. “I drive out to the coast, look at the ocean, go to an apiary and get my head in some bees,” she says. After suiting up, she wields a smoker, which induces a calming effect on the hive. Do they look hungry? Do they have enough pollen? Jen checks for mites and viruses. She puts out wasp traps and applies organic mite treatments. Future lessons include splitting hives for sustainability, queen breeding, harvesting and extraction. One skill already mastered: how to take a stinger out quickly. “I’ve been stung in the face twice,” she admits. “Once in a while they do get in, but I’m not afraid to get stung a little bit.”

In exchange for the occasional bite, the bees provide a bounty. As Todd summarized on State Street Honey’s website, “Honey is the bees’ hard work. It’s them foraging on thousands of different flowers, bringing it back to the hive, ripening it, reducing it down to this beautiful, sweet substance.” State Street aspires to produce the “purest honey possible,” Jen explains, with only minimal filtering and heating to ensure that it’s packed with beneficial enzymes and pollen.

Having apiaries in distinct microclimates means State Street’s bees forage for pollen in a wide range of flora: large stands of eucalyptus, wildflowers, berries, fruit trees, native scrub, chaparral, lavender and sage. “The flavor is different depending on what the bees are feeding on,” Jen notes. “There’s actually a tasting wheel of honey: fruity, citrusy, earthy, floral…”

Raw honey also has variations in texture. “If a honey doesn’t crystallize, it probably isn’t that real,” she relays. “Different nectar sources will crystallize at different rates. Our Coastal has almost a little crunch to it. And then the Peninsula doesn’t crystallize quite as fast.” Jen’s pro tip: To preserve honey’s benefits, gently warm in a water bath to liquify. Currently distributing through local retailers, Jen anticipates reintroducing State Street Honey’s online sales in the near future.

As she gets a handle on honey production, Jen’s also exploring new State Street branches: concierge beekeeping, education, honey tasting and even therapy. She can personally speak to the calming hum of the hive. “The bees certainly saved me this year, giving me something to focus on, keeping me in the moment,” she shares. “I think we’re just barely touching on what bees can do.”

Still working through her grief, Jen perceives her beekeeping journey as bittersweet. “I feel so proud of myself and I’m sure Todd’s proud of me,” she reflects, “but I wish we were doing this together.” As for the greatest lesson she’s learned from the bees? Without hesitation, Jen replies that it’s the power of community: “When you have such a tragedy, you realize we need each other—we’re supposed to live like that.”

Cover Phot: Courtesy of Philip Wartena

Plants on the Plate

Words by Alissa Greenberg

Among Bob Trahan’s childhood memories, one stands out: the care his grandfather put into their French fry-making ritual, while Bob’s mother took nursing classes. His grandfather “had these particulars about how he did it,” Bob remembers. The fries always had to be crinkle-cut, since that would give them the best crispy edge. The oil had to be reused a few times to get the best taste. And the French fries had to be drained on top of a paper bag. “It was really basic,” Bob remembers of the recipe. But those fries made a deep impression and taught him an important lesson, one that’s carried over into his professional life: details matter.

Tonight, a long way from French fries, Bob is enjoying the fruits of a very different project. Twelvemonth, his newly-opened vegan restaurant, is already drawing rave reviews in downtown Burlingame. Waiters carry platters of sweet-spicy radish cakes and rich mock-egg custard chawanmushi from a menu Bob helped design to guests seated at thoughtfully selected hand-stitched leather banquettes.

After three years of planning and preparation, Bob hopes Twelvemonth can fill what he sees as a gap in the Peninsula food scene: a special occasion spot offering deeply-sustainable dining. He’s already convinced the building’s owners that he has the vision, determination, conviction and skills to deliver. Now he just needs Peninsula diners to agree.

In the first part of his professional life, Bob used his eye for detail in tech, most notably as a high-level manager at Facebook. But finding the work to be misaligned with his values, he quit to attend culinary school, working as a line cook and running a bakery out of his house, while keeping an eye out for an opportunity to open his own place. When long-beloved Steelhead Brewery walked away from its space in downtown Burlingame in the first weeks of the 2020 lockdown, he jumped at the chance to claim it, sending owner Patricia Sabatini a handwritten letter detailing his vision and presenting a social-distanced pitch to her and her kids in their backyard.

Part of that vision: an entirely plant-based restaurant focused on seasonal, local dishes (a philosophy that gives Twelvemonth its distinctive name). For a long time, Bob’s overriding impression had been that plant-based cooking meant bland rabbit food, but culinary school helped him see that it might be possible to create a restaurant where the plants are “incidental to your experience.” His wife, a longtime animal lover, served as a major inspiration for the project. (He once went vegan for a month as a Mother’s Day present to her.) Another, his growing eco-anxiety. “One of the best things we can do as a consumer is eat more plants,” he says.

The sustainability of Twelvemonth extends to the building itself, a former firehouse with vaulted ceilings that took three years of renovations and design to get ready for opening. With rainwater catchment tanks, solar panels on the roof and a relationship with a farm that will provide custom-grown herbs in return for kitchen-scrap compost in the works, Bob expects the restaurant will be certified LEED platinum. As for atmosphere, Twelvemonth is an eclectic mix of Las Vegas luxe and airy mountain cabin.

Rough-hewn wood, brushed brass, and funky fixtures combine to create an aesthetic that Bob refers to as part “agrarian farmhouse,” part “luxury pick-up truck.” (His favorite: a chandelier made of repurposed hospital operating room lights.)

Though the menu is still evolving, it already presents a panoply of plant-based possibilities. The radish cake, a hit with diners so far, elegantly melds the chew of a well-cooked rice cake with salty, sweet and spicy homemade chili crisp. Generous greens provide body to a rich bean stew. A vivid purple charred cabbage salad is satisfyingly tangy with a smoky backing and endowed with a unique texture that melds the softer cabbage with an allium crunch. Not to be missed on the side: house-made Parker House rolls—pillowy and a little sweet.

To drink, diners love the Shasta Daisy, a citrusy take on a margarita, which departs with a touch of salt, vanilla and cinnamon at the back of the throat. For dessert, there are beignets cooked to order or fried cookie dough, a stroke of sweet genius that’s soft inside, chewy and crispy-warm outside—a kind of molten cookie-donut.

In the future, Bob hopes to be less involved in the “each blade of grass way,” focusing more on big-picture menu planning or new projects. There’s a farm-to-table program he’s trying to get off the ground, connecting with no-till farms and perfecting the composting program—he jokes it’s intensive enough to be referred to as “soil to spoon.” And he’s excited to find ways to incorporate his tech expertise. One possible idea: streaming kitchen and bakery service and using the footage on TikTok.

For now, though, he’s staying busy in the trenches. He’s picked out many of the 57 types of lightbulbs needed to brighten Twelvemonth’s various quirky dining areas, pitched in on choosing the jewel-colored liquor bottles that line the decorative shelves above the bar and filled in as needed at the bakery.

He’s even volunteered to re-wire the brushed-brass lamps, whose cords arrived too long for his liking. Why not? He enjoys working with his hands.
“It’s not that I couldn’t delegate it, but …”

Bob makes a “why bother” shrug and leaves to toss a sports coat over his polo shirt before the dinner rush. Come tomorrow, he’ll be back here early to assemble shelves in the new storage area.

Riding Out the Storm

Words by Sheri Baer

When the Peninsula got bombarded by atmospheric rivers, extended power outages and toppling trees, the natural instinct was to pull out the camping lanterns and hunker down inside. Unless you’re PUNCH photographer Gino De Grandis. For Gino, news of an impending bomb cyclone meant “Go!” time. “I drove 320 miles in two days just looking for mudslides, fallen trees and boulders,” he recounts. “Over the course of one storm week, I counted 760 mudslides just in San Mateo County.”


A veteran storm chaser for 18 years, Gino typically hits the road in tandem with the U.S. tornado season, but in an unexpected twist, this winter and early spring found him charging out the door from his San Mateo home. Recruited by the County to help document and assess damage, Gino’s assignments took him from Daly City almost to Santa Cruz.

What’s it like to chase storms right where you live? “It’s perfect because I don’t have to drive to Oklahoma or Kansas or South Dakota,” Gino says. “The reason I get called is because nobody else wants to go out there. Personally, I love the rain and the wind but just because you’re not afraid, it doesn’t mean something can’t happen to you. You have to be very, very prepared and very careful.”

 

Berkeley Getaway: Beyond the Bears

Words by Sharon McDonnell

If your views on Berkeley are rooted in the Big Game rivalry (especially if you’re of the #BeatCal persuasion), it may be time to broaden your perspective. That’s because Berkeley is oh-so-much more. Kindling revolution in free speech, food, gourmet coffee and scientific inventions since the ’60s, this city possesses an international, creative vibe and eminently walkable neighborhoods. Nestled between the Bay and forested hills, it’s also an easy day trip from the Peninsula.

WHAT TO DO

Looking for a songful start to your outing? The longest-running outdoor amphitheater in the country, UC’s Greek Theatre, celebrates its 120th anniversary this year with an enticing lineup that includes John Legend (June 17), Jason Mraz (July 19) and Steve Miller Band (September 22). In downtown Berkeley, find Freight & Salvage, a wonderful music club for traditional roots music, from Zydeco and Latin to bluegrass and Ethiopian. Meanwhile, Berkeley Repertory Theatre presents plays and musicals that have won a Pulitzer, Grammy and six Tony Awards. And don’t forget UC Berkeley’s Zellerbach Hall on campus, home to Cal Performances and almost 100 concerts and talks each year.

Courtesy of BAMPFA / Cover Photo: Courtesy of Visit Berkeley – Chao Kusollerchariya

For films and art featuring underrepresented groups and lesser-known topics, stop by the Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive (BAMPFA). Current offerings include an exhibit on Alexandre Dumas, author of The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo, whose grandparents were a Haitian slave and a French aristocrat (through July 30) as well as films from Ukrainian filmmaker Kira Muratova (through May 14).

Follow your nose (Saturdays only) to the Aftel Archive of Curious Scents, located in the back of perfumer Mandy Aftel’s shingled cottage in the North Shattuck district. From more than 200 natural essences, sniff and choose five samples to take home and explore one-of-a-kind artifacts, including a 16th-century alchemy book with recipes for magic. Aftel also bottles and sells high-end custom blends of natural botanicals, perfumes and drops.

Courtesy of Aftel

For more fragrances, step into the UC Botanical Garden featuring nine geographic areas from Asia (a Chinese medicinal herb garden included) to Latin America, plus nationally-recognized collections of magnolias, cycads, ferns and oaks on its 34 acres. Up in the Berkeley Hills, Tilden Regional Park sprawls over 2,000 acres, and includes the world’s most complete California plant collection in its Botanic Garden, plus an 18-hole golf course.

WHERE TO EAT

Worked up an appetite? Pay a visit to the birthplace of California farm-to-table seasonal cuisine, Alice Waters’ acclaimed Chez Panisse, which offers a restaurant in addition to a moderately-priced café upstairs. Across the street, The Cheese Board, a worker-owned collective since 1971, always has a line for its hot pizza (one unique veggie combo each day) and fine cheese selection.

In downtown Berkeley, the large lush patio at Jupiter cultivates a chill atmosphere. Wash down 15 types of wood-fired pizza with Jupiter’s own (and guest) craft beers. Located in a former 1890s brick horse stable, the popular beer garden hosts bands Thursday through Saturday. For a Korean fusion and American brunch, rise and shine with Berkeley Social Club, known for dishes like candied Millionaire’s Bacon and Korean Fried Chicken Benedict.

Courtesy of Chez Panisse

Gather serves eight pizzas, including a butternut squash, chimichurri, burrata and leek cream sauce option. Look for a bluegrass band performing for Saturday lunch. When the caffeine craving kicks in, make haste for MY Coffee Roastery, an adorable cottage-like setting with a tented patio that roasts coffee beans from around the world. Hawaiian bakery Ono Bakehouse will put you in an aloha mood with its chocolate haupia pie, topped with coconut custard. For more tasty carbs, venture to the Elmwood district’s Boichik Bagels, recognized by The New York Times in its 2021 Bay Area-Big Apple bagel battle article. (Note: Boichik also recently opened a second bakery in Palo Alto’s Town & Country Village.)

Other culinary adventures include West Berkeley’s La Marcha, which offers paella in six varieties and a marvelous 4-6PM happy hour with rotating tapas, red & white house wine or housemade sangria for $6 each. Two blocks away, a married couple from Hamburg own the casual eatery Gaumenkitzel, specializing in organic slow German food like Pork Jagerschnitzel and Spätzle Mushroom, along with the East Bay’s biggest selection of German beers and wines.

For more libations, explore a cluster of urban wineries located in West Berkeley’s Gilman District with tasting rooms open on weekends. Broc Cellars, Donkey & Goat and Hammerling Wines all serve natural California wines with outdoor and indoor seating, complemented by food pop-ups, like Japanese street food from Daruma Kiosk or Mexican food with handmade salsa from Tacos Everywhere. The First Friday block party adds live music into the mix. And if hops make you happier, Gilman Brewing Company serves award-winning craft brews including saisons and farmhouse ales.

WHERE TO SHOP

If you’re still not ready to drop, don’t leave without perusing Berkeley’s shops. Perfume sourced from Grasse, France, is sold at Le Labo. Its bestseller, the unisex Santal 33, blends sandalwood, leather, tobacco and cardamom. For vividly-colored Mexican home and garden décor, head straight to downtown Berkeley’s Talavera Ceramics & Tile. You can even create your own tile murals from two-inch-square handmade tiles in hundreds of designs. Considered one of the nation’s legendary bookstores, Moe’s Books on Telegraph Avenue has carried pages for all ages since 1959 and currently features over 200,000 new and used books on four floors.

Courtesy of Talvera Ceramics & Tile

Stop by Builders Booksource for architecture, design and gardening titles.
In the Solano Avenue Shopping District, purchase wind chimes, yard art and more at Fern’s Garden, a whimsical gift shop owned by a mother-daughter team. You’ll find dozens of studios belonging to artists and craftspeople in West Berkeley’s Sawtooth Building, whose distinctive roofline is formed by 20 sawtooth-shaped banks of skylights. Some open for First Saturdays year-round, with about 25 welcoming visitors during East Bay Open Studios, scheduled for the second and third weekends in May.

Still hesitating? Consider this: Even if your allegiance runs cardinal red, the next Stanford/Cal match-up isn’t until November 18 at Memorial Stadium. So go on, enjoy a big day in Berkeley without worrying about the Big Game.

Head East

visitberkeley.com

Perfect Shot: Byxbee Park Pole Field

Palo Alto’s Byxbee Park—a picturesque waterfront park with winding paths in the Baylands Nature Preserve—is more than meets the eye. It actually covers a 30-acre landfill, which is capped under one foot of impenetrable clay and two feet of dirt. Treating the earth as their canvas, designers formed teardrop-shaped hillocks (a tribute to the Ohlone people) and added conceptual art to the landscape, including artist Peter Richards’ grid of 72 telephone poles with shifting shadows. Palo Alto photographer Robert Quinn snapped this Perfect Shot while walking with his wife. “It occurred to me that if you can judge the livability of a locale by the beauty of its landfills,” he remarks, “we are not faring too poorly!”

Calling all Shutterbugs:
If you’ve captured a unique perspective of the Peninsula, we’d love to see your Perfect Shot. Email us at hello@punchmonthly.com to be considered for publication.

Diary of a Dog: Zora

Back in 2018, Cat and Cory visited several shelters before coming across me at ilovefamilydog.org. Their 13-year-old German Shepherd had recently passed away and his brother, Zeus, also a senior dog, seemed to be giving up without his companionship. Cat and Cory could tell I was a sweet pup, but they let Zeus make the decision. “Their connection was immediate!” is how Cat describes our first meeting, which led to bringing me home to Menlo Park. “Zeus tried to keep up with Zora as she played with him,” Cat and Cory happily recall, “and within days, it was like Zeus had come back to us.” Given my black “cow spots,” Cat and Cory were surprised to discover through DNA testing that I’m pure Siberian husky. It turns out I’m known as a white piebald, which is the rarest color pattern. I’m called Zora because I look like a fox (“zorra”) and Zora Neale Hurston happens to be one of Cat’s favorite writers. Their Eyes Were Watching God was Hurston’s best-known novel, which explains my Instagram handle @theireyeswerewatchingdog. Feel free to follow along to see my adventures. I love to play fetch and I bounce and pounce around whenever I see the ball come out. I also enjoy getting as dirty as possible (plenty of mud puddles lately!), jumping in the ocean, riding in the car and going on hikes and trail runs. My very favorite thing? When I first saw snow in December 2021, I took straight off through the fluffy white powder. I mean, I’m a husky, so come on! I looked back at Cat and Cory and they knew exactly what I was thinking: “How could you have kept this from me for so long?!”

Calling All Dogs:
If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

Speaking Volumes: Hooman Khalili

Words by Johanna Harlow

Check into Menlo Park’s Park James Hotel and your ear might pick up a familiar voice carrying over the click-clack-clack of rolling suitcases and the easy chatter of guests at the bar. Many a commuter recognizes the rhythm and cadence of the hotel’s creative director from his two-plus decades of radio banter on Alice 97.3 FM. That’s right, it’s Hooman Khalili.

As a seasoned film reviewer, Hooman boasts an impressive range of celebrity interviews—Charlize Theron, John Travolta, Julianne Moore, Ed Harris and George Lucas, to name a few. But his repertoire far exceeds his role as Alice’s former morning radio personality. Beyond his role at the Park James, he’s also co-hosted the Fandor Festival Podcast, produced a groundbreaking film and is currently collaborating on a huge advocacy project in Israel.

But to get to the present we first need the past. As a toddler, Hooman escaped Iran on the cusp of the revolution. “Mom jumped on a plane with one suitcase, $5,000 and a three-year-old boy,” he describes. When they arrived in America, the customs agent messed up the numbers on her stamp, issuing a one-year visa (which allowed for work) rather than the typical three-month authorization for tourists. “It was a miracle!” Hooman declares. As a professed Christian, Hooman believes in divine intervention. He also remains awestruck that, before that year was up, his mom went from a job cleaning hotel rooms (while they lived in a back room) to a job as an accountant with green card status.


So when did cinema come into the picture? Hooman credits turbulent times in his early 20s. “I would go to a theater and just watch a movie and escape,” he recounts. “It was freedom.”

His radio career took off after Alice Radio host Sarah Clark asked if he’d like to review the film Angela’s Ashes. He recalls Sarah telling him, “What you bring to this microphone is up to you.” He dove right in. “It was just a terrible review, but they liked it enough,” he chuckles. “So all of a sudden, I find myself at every movie premiere and film festival. Anything I was invited to, I would attend.” Sure, waking up at 3:20 every morning was no picnic… But, “To be on with Sarah and Vinnie for 20 years, that was a gift,” Hooman reflects.

When it comes to memorable encounters, Hooman calls out John Travolta (with whom he’s talked six times). He’ll never forget his coverage of A Love Song for Bobby Long—and not because the film was a hit. Due to a botched schedule, Mr. Travolta’s publicist offered to sit Hooman next to the actor while he conducted all his other interviews. For two hours, Hooman listened to the actor patiently respond to the same unoriginal prompts. “Even though he was hearing the same questions, he would say, ‘That’s a really good question. I’m really glad you asked me that,’” he recounts. Although Hooman, like the other reporters, had mixed feelings about the film itself, the response was the same: “‘Look, it’s not my favorite movie—but John Travolta… What a wonderful human being!”

Hooman has also been up on the silver screen himself, cameoing as a partygoer in Cloverfield and an animated reporter in Cars modeled after a Ford Ka Coupe. “I have an action figure!” exclaims Hooman, explaining that the director of the Pixar film, John Lasseter, was a huge fan of Alice’s morning show. “He gave us all a line.”

The Alice morning radio team from left to right: Von Bellows, Uzette Salazar, Bryn Nguyen, Sarah Clark, Vinnie Hasson and Hooman Khalili.

For Hooman, making his own film felt like a natural progression—so in 2011, he produced Olive featuring Gena Rowlands. Partnering with Patrick Gilles, the two made the first full-length feature shot entirely on a cell phone (a Nokia N8, to be specific).

The film’s soundtrack features original Dolly Parton songs—another wild story. After running into Dolly’s dentist at a conference, Hooman managed to land his film in front of the singer—which subsequently earned him a meeting with the Queen of Nashville herself. “Dolly Parton travels like Jay-Z. So it’s nine people on that side and me on this side,” Hooman recalls. “And she goes, ‘Well Kid, what do you want?’” With go-big-or-go-home boldness, Hooman requested four songs for the film. “She goes, ‘All right, Kid, get your butt outta here. I got a lot of work to do.’”

Although Olive only got a limited run (spending just enough time in theaters to earn an Oscar nomination for Best Original Song), Hooman expects the film to be re-released—and aspires to make as many as 20 films. “People don’t realize that independent filmmakers are still competing with Star Wars and Avengers,” Hooman shares. It’s a big reason why he’s also supported directors, writers and actors through the Fandor Festival Podcast, co-hosted with Chris Kelly, a previous investor in Olive, and Bryn Nguyen.

Hooman’s advocacy murals in Israel are designed to show solidarity with the Iranian people. The bird covering an eye represents Iranian women who were told they would be blinded in one eye by a pellet gun if they protested. They protested anyway.

A long familiar voice, Hooman speaks out in other ways—most recently, by producing and designing advocacy murals that show solidarity with Iranian protesters. With murals already installed in Jerusalem, Nazareth and Natanya, Hooman partners with Israeli officials as well as artists to create intentional designs. “Every time I create a mural, I am throwing a huge log into this fire,” he explains. “I am here to inspire the people in Iran to keep fighting against their tyrannical regime.”

If he can attract a supportive patron or two, Hooman envisions more than a dozen more murals coming to Israel’s walls. Meanwhile, he continues to balance his work at the Park James Hotel, where projects range from handling brand strategy to organizing their next speaker series. It’s a true hustle, but there’s no way he’s checking out. “It’s easy to say no to these opportunities and it’s sometimes hard to say yes, but you’ve got to ride that wave: the adventure of life.”

Q&A: Kara Newport of Filoli

Filoli’s CEO shares something unexpected she’s done on the job at the renowned Peninsula historic estate, what gets her out of a bad mood and advice she’d give her younger self.

What originally brought you to the Peninsula?
Filoli! When I heard about the opportunity to work in a place that had a historic house and garden and access to natural lands, I immediately threw my hat in.

What do you wish everyone knew about Filoli?
Many people only come for one reason or season—spring to see the tulips or holidays for the lights. Every day offers a different sort of magic.

What’s something unexpected you’ve had to do for your job?
I spend a lot of time talking about Santa! Last year, Santa was “stuck in a snowstorm” and we had to find an emergency Santa stand-in among our talented team.

Where did you grow up and what was great about it?
I grew up in a small rural town in Ohio. Growing up on a farm is an irreplaceable experience.

What song reminds you of high school?
“Licensed to Ill” by the Beastie Boys takes me right back to a band trip in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. (That sentence says so much!)

What’s your favorite quote?
“Change is the only constant.” I thrive in a change-based environment, which I have learned is not comfortable for many people.

What’s guaranteed to get you out of a bad mood?
A brisk walk or a chat with a friend—the ideal is both combined!

What is the dumbest way you’ve been hurt?
In anticipation of turning 50, I decided I was going to go back to my youth and play soccer. In one of my first games, I stepped in a gopher hole and tore my meniscus.

Any memorable celebrity encounters at Filoli?
Generally, I prefer to give celebrities their space when they are visiting. But I literally and unintentionally wandered into Joan Baez’s photo shoot at the Bourn Gate near the sunken garden. I definitely had a fangirl moment!

What’s your favorite room in Filoli’s historic house?
The library. I like to imagine being curled up in a cozy chair with a crackling fire, watching the sun set.

What’s the dream you keep putting off?
I want to visit all of the National Parks.

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?
Hold onto all the things that you love. When I was a younger, career-driven woman, I believed that I had to make sacrifices in order to aggressively pursue my career. Now I find myself returning to those passions—art, dance, sports—as I make space for myself.

Essay: Power Out

Words by Sloane Citron

The winds blow furiously. Looking out onto my backyard, I watch the large pine trees whipping back and forth, their buried roots certainly pulling to and fro, loosening their grip within the earth that holds them. Our large oak, the kind that loses its leaves in the winter, seems to be faring better since there is little surface area for the gusts to push against.

My daughter, Arielle, and her oldest son Teddy (Theodore Solomon) had just gotten into town for a quick overnight visit. As we stand there watching nature’s fury, we wait for the inevitable, and then it happens: the sounds and sights of power vanish, leaving that unique eerie feeling to the house. Sirens in every direction, some far and some near, portending the damage such a storm brings: trees falling across roads, branches cascading into car windshields, power lines draped across lawns and streets.

I was not deterred from playing with three-year-old Teddy since I had not seen him for a while, and when the women drove to find power and internet, we had the afternoon to ourselves. We built castles with the Magna-Tiles and then turned to creating an imaginary world with our large red firetruck and half a dozen Paw Patrol figures. With no interruptions, we played the game over and over and over, lining up the figures and the firetruck, then using the water cannon (with a shooting ball of “water”) to extinguish the fire made up of red Magna-Tiles.

Eventually, we decided to brave the weather—the wind still howling, the sirens still piercing the air—and go outside. We took a scooter for Teddy (making sure he had a helmet, less for a potential scooter accident than a falling limb) and walked around our neighborhood. Normally, there would be others out with their dogs, talking on their phones, jogging, but today it was just the two of us. We like to explore and with fallen branches, downed fences and large puddles about, we had a good adventure.

Later that day, five more grandchildren with corresponding parents piled into our home for playtime and dinner. The kids tried to tell Alexa to play music and got an early taste of things not working. In our powerless state, we ordered dinner and everyone but me (I just can’t do it!) had their evening meal at around 5:30, their normal eating time. While this was going on, I prepared the house for the encroaching darkness. We have several halogen lanterns and I have an inverter device that attaches to a car battery and yields enough power for a few lights, phones and laptop chargers.

The recent shift to daylight savings time worked to our advantage, gaining us an hour more of sunlight, enough to give the kids baths and send them on their way. Then I was able to spend more time with Teddy before doing what I love best: reading several books to him. We have our favorites: Busy Day, Busy People; The Hungry Caterpillar; and Parsley (from my own childhood). Next a short Hebrew song (“Simi Yadeah”) that I sang to my kids, and now my kids sing to their kids, and then the Sh’ma prayer. Finally, two stories, usually The Three Little Pigs and Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

The dark seized our home like thick wrapping paper, our only light source the lanterns and the single bulb. After my family went to bed, I decided to make the most of it. I built a large fire, pulled up a large easy chair next to it and turned off everything but a single lantern. For the next few hours, I read my current book (a dandy by Buddy Levy) and watched a movie that I had previously saved on my laptop for just such an occasion. (Did you ever notice the brilliant soundtrack of The Good, The Bad and the Ugly?)

What could have been considered a challenging night was, instead, a tranquil one. It was such a gift to be disconnected from the world—no news of the horrors of the day; no emails; no spam calls. There was, if you will, a barrier separating me from the angst of our times. It was a magical, intoxicating feeling to be totally untethered to our planet, its turmoil and troubles unable to reach me. As someone who struggles with our society and world, and who takes it too personally, it was a welcome respite.

There is a lesson here. The calamitous nature of our times breeds depression and pessimism. Getting a break, a time-out if you will, is a welcome respite. Less news and more books. Less technology and more talks with friends, walks in the woods and time with family. And a few days of blackout certainly helps.

Lake Lagunita Returns

Words by Bob Siegel

The recent rains have delivered many gifts to the Peninsula, including a bit of respite from the ongoing drought. On the Stanford campus, a welcome sight has been the reemergence of Lake Lagunita—the campus’ most notable water feature.

Just a short walk from the nearest public parking at Tresidder Student Union, Lake Lagunita pre-dates Stanford University and was built as a 115-million-gallon reservoir to provide water for fruit orchards and other crops growing on the Stanfords’ Palo Alto Stock Farm.

Combining English and Spanish, Lake Lagunita redundantly translates to “Lake Little Lake.” Even more confusing, in recent years, Lagunita typically presents as a dry bowl and not a lake at all. But this winter, water has transformed Lagunita into a mecca for wildlife and student life, harkening back to an earlier epoch when the lake played a more pivotal role. As John Cobbs observed in the The Stanford Daily in 1940, “…romance on campus varies directly with the water gauge on the lake.”

Lagunita has always undergone an annual cycle—drying up in the warm days of summer and starting to refill with the autumn rains. Upon returning to campus after winter break, students were greeted by the soothing appearance of water in the lake. And so it is again…in 2023.

Awash With History

Known to many as “Lake Lag,” Lagunita’s rich and colorful history has been preserved through a bounty of testimonials and photographs. From the year that Stanford University opened in 1891, the lake became a significant focus of student social life. Some of the most sought-after dorms in the annual housing lottery abutted the lake.

Images that predate the 1906 earthquake are notable for the presence of a large spire on Stanford Memorial Church and the gigantic Memorial Arch, neither of which was ever restored.

Once a bustling hub, Lagunita’s boathouse went through several iterations before being permanently demolished in 1989.

In the fall, Lagunita hosted a giant bonfire in the build-up to the Big Game against Cal, where cross-Bay rivals meet on the football field. The annual bonfire moved to the lakebed in 1936 and continued until 1993, when the practice was suspended over concerns about the ecological impact on endangered salamanders.

The coming of spring signaled the onset of shoreline recreation and watersports, including swimming, sunbathing, picnicking, boating and sailing classes. One particularly notable event was the annual Spring Water Carnival, with various races and competitions. One involved the launching of cardboard boats—not so much to see how fast you could go, but how far—before the cardboard became saturated and collapsed, depositing inhabitants into the lake.

Lake Lagunita Highlights

1877 Workers begin construction on a new water system for the Palo Alto Stock Farm
1880 Lakebed is excavated by mule-drawn scrapers, lined with clay and tramped down by sheep
1891 Stanford University opens its doors on October 1 with an enrollment of some 550 students
1892 Students erect a makeshift boathouse on the shore
1893 Spectators gather to witness “the first race ever rowed at Stanford”
1913 Campus YMCA completes construction on a central boathouse
1935 Following heavy rainfall, the lake surpasses previous records by filling with 117 million gallons of water and registering a depth of over 20 feet 
1936 The traditional Big Game bonfire is held in Lagunita’s dry lakebed for the first time
1938 Overcrowding causes the boathouse balcony to collapse during the annual Water Carnival, seriously injuring two people
1939 New boathouse is built; wood from the fallen one is used as fuel for the Big Game bonfire
1951 Bonfire pyre reaches a record height of 85 feet 
1967 Local high school students release an alligator into the lake; five weeks later it is caught
1970 Boathouse is declared unsafe
1975 Spring Aqua Follies tradition is revived
1977 Bonfire is suspended due to safety and air quality concerns; a fireworks show is held instead
1985 Bonfire returns to Lake Lagunita
1989 Following a brief Bon Voyage ceremony, the 50-year-old boathouse is torn down
2001 Stanford stops manually filling the reservoir for recreation, resulting in a dry lakebed in subsequent drought years
Present Record rainfall temporarily replenishes Lake Lagunita

Courtesy of The Stanford Daily and Anthony Kirk

Lake Lagunita Dries Up

Lake Lagunita is surrounded by an earthen berm, with rain runoff from the foothills below the Stanford Dish providing some of its water. But Lagunita is mainly fed by Los Trancos and San Francisquito Creeks, which derive their water from two upstream artificial lakes on campus: Felt Lake and Searsville Lake. Stanford University controls the amount of water available for Lagunita. Near the golf course, there is an outlet so that rising waters do not overtop the dam and threaten the adjacent buildings.

Since the 1970s, a full lake has been a relative rarity. “The lake has seldom been filled as a result of natural rainfall, even in the wettest years,” Former Associate Vice Provost for Facilities Chris Christofferson once explained. “The lake bottom is extremely porous, and leaks 500 gallons per minute when it is full. So, to keep it full, it would require pumping an enormous amount of water. This would be extremely expensive.”

In 2001, Stanford stopped manually filling the reservoir for recreational use, and when drought years took their toll, Lake Lagunita evolved into a starkly different vista: a parched, dry basin.

Lake Lagunita Reappears

In the wake of record-breaking winter storms, Lake Lagunita once again entices walkers, birders, art students and studious undergrads looking for a change of scenery. This aqueous bounty also produces memorable landscapes, vibrant sunsets and abundant photographic opportunities.

At nearly a mile, the lake’s perimeter trail serves as the main locus of activity. Unfortunately, one part of the path is temporarily flooded, creating an impassable obstacle for hikers and joggers hoping to circumnavigate the lake.

One huge difference now is that use of the actual lake is prohibited. “Danger,” the signs read. “Do not enter water. No drinking, swimming or recreational activities.” Despite these restrictive measures, some students find the allure of water too great, wandering out in inflatable dinghies and even homemade watercraft.

The University cites health and ecological reasons for the ban, ranging from an annoying itchy skin condition and submerged broken bottles to the lake being a threatened species habitat. The site acts as a breeding ground for the endangered and protected California tiger salamander. A pervasive mythology asserts that the salamanders are the reason that the lake is not filled every year. It only takes a moment of reflection to realize the flaw in this argument; namely, amphibians love water.

A Welcome Mat for Wildlife

As with the salamanders, the many posted warnings are not a deterrent to myriad forms of wildlife: frogs, lizards, snakes, gophers, squirrels and a profusion of birds.

The return of water has been particularly attractive for birds. On the lake itself can be found ducks, grebes and coots. Various herons patrol the edge of the lake patiently looking for tasty morsels in the shallow water or on the banks. The oaks and other large trees on the perimeter trail are filled with a wide variety of perching birds: nuthatches, robins, titmice, phoebes, juncos and crows, as well as several species of woodpeckers and raptors keeping watch from above. Bird watchers flocking to the lake also display a variety of ages, motivations and equipment.

While the birds quickly grab our attention, mammals like rabbits and gophers are generally more secretive. Also sharing hidden domains are beetles, slender salamanders, centipedes, woodlice and several species of millipedes, including one that appears fluorescent under UV light at night. In contrast to the more elusive critters, lady beetles proudly display their colors, warning would-be predators to stay away.

The observant visitor will also marvel at the diverse assortment of fungi. As the mycophiles are fond of saying, “When it rains, it spores.” Some fungi pop up from the ground with the canonical shape of mushrooms, others hang from trees or form gelatinous structures on decaying wood.

Slime molds may look like fungus, but their common name is misleading as they are actually in a completely different kingdom—the protozoa (Phylum: Mycetozoa). Found nestled in Lagunita’s crevices or under decaying wood, the curious creatures we see after it rains are extremely transient, often living a few days to weeks.

Nature Wonders

Whether the lakebed is dry or wet, all of Lagunita’s discoveries are a delight to the curious. In recent years, a student-organized “bioblitz” has been held each spring. Open to members of the community, participants explore and document all manner of life. With the help of campus biologist Alan Launer, what they find is sometimes quite surprising including lizards, frogs and several species of snakes. Seeing, interacting with and learning about these creatures at close range is fascinating at every age. The event is also a wonderful opportunity to meet old and new friends with a shared interest in nature and the environment.

Beholding the gift of Lake Lagunita’s robust reappearance, one can only hope the future will see many more seasons with a full lake and the pleasures of lacustrine pursuits.

Lake Lagunita Spring Bioblitz

Check stanfordseeds.weebly.com for details.

A Forte for Spectacle

Words by Johanna Harlow

A baby grand trundles along a bluff in Half Moon Bay with assistance from several men and a wheeled dolly. As it jostles and judders along the uneven ground, the piano makes musical noises of protest as if to say, “I’m too old for this kind of thing”—but it changes its tune when it reaches a wildflower outcrop overlooking the sea. As soon as a player raises its keylid, the instrument begins harmonizing with a choir of seagulls, keeping tempo with the waves. It’s hard to imagine this wild mahogany beast ever returning to a domestic existence in some parlor, quietly collecting dust.

“We all think you go to a concert hall or somebody’s living room to hear someone play the piano—so you take it out of that context, and it makes people think,” says Mauro ffortissimo, an artist with expressive hands befitting one who grew up tickling the ivories.

Before immigrating to the U.S. at 18, Mauro grew up under Argentinian dictatorship rule. He was making music before he could read chapter books. “My mom played piano,” he relays. “I started when I was five. At six, I went to a conservatory.” As time passed, Mauro felt compelled to engage with the instrument in more ways than hands on keys. The piano became a muse, a source of inspiration for performance art and sculptures.

To Mauro, a piano’s body is as alluring as its voice. “I love the insides, the mechanisms,” he explains. As he rakes his fingers through his hair, it sticks up exactly like the Beethoven bust in his studio. “It’s just insane the amount between you pushing the key and the actual hammer. There are over a thousand parts—tiny pieces of wood, levels, springs, you name it!”

It’s this mindset that drove him to refigure the percussion instrument into a stringed form by removing the keyboard and hammers, then turning the soundboard and its wires upright like a harp. Mauro adds fishing line and brass tubes to further “free it from the 12-tone scale” and make more opportunities for unique sounds. When he plucks the strings, squeezes the tubes and taps the wires with a cork-topped baton, the result sounds like a harp, hammered dulcimer, violin and whale all rolled into one. “I fire the orchestra,” Mauro laughs. He calls it his Piano Liberado.

When Mauro alters a piano these days, he’s got the procedure down pat. “I do it really quick—in a couple hours,” he boasts. “It requires a couple big screwdrivers and a sledgehammer.”


Like a huntsman deftly gutting an animal, Mauro makes sure to preserve the piano’s many parts, wasting nothing. They will be stored in a tall tower of baker’s racks until he needs them for one of his other sculpture projects. Keyboards become black and white waves. Emptied piano bodies get stacked into columns. Hammers weave into hanging mobiles or bouquets of flowers. Steel frames decorate the backyard fence.

Mauro knows not everyone condones his treatment of these instruments. But some pianos are simply beyond a tuneup. And to him, it’s a conversion, not a dissection. “They go to the dumps all the time,” Mauro points out. “I give them another life.”

Piano as Performance Art

Plenty of instruments in Mauro’s care remain intact for his performance art. These projects fall under the umbrella of Sunset Piano—an ongoing series that involves “placing extremely heavy musical instruments in unexpected places.”

Founded in 2013, Sunset Piano is the collaborative effort of Mauro and his fedora-wearing filmmaker pal Dean Mermell (who is also a musician and art lover). The two were introduced by renowned Burning Man artist Pepe Ozan. “I remember him saying, with a very meaningful look, ‘You two should know each other,’” Dean recalls.

For their first collaboration, Dean filmed Mauro and his “piano ninjas” as they navigated pianos to impossible places up and down the coast, from Pacifica to Santa Cruz. Pros and novices came to play Chopin and “Chopsticks” for the passing porpoises and sea lions. “A kid might be too shy to play at home in the living room with the grandparents looking,” muses Mauro, “but now he’s sitting there and there’s a goose going by, and he thinks, ‘Okay, I can play this!’”

Musicians, singers, poets, fire dancers and lyra aerial hoop dancers also contribute. An enchanting evening might involve a wordsmith spitting verse beside a crackling bonfire or a woman twisting and twirling through a hoop suspended in the cypress branches.

Twelve Pianos, Dean’s documentary of the entire escapade, premiered at San Francisco’s Green Film Festival. “Mauro and I share a pretty wacky artistic vision, but we’re also both very practical people who like to figure out how to get things done,” Dean shares. “It’s really all about getting the music out there, and providing a space for wonder to happen. We need more wonder—that’s kind of the business we’re in.”

The two have continued to cook up crazy ideas—and Dean has played a pivotal role in producing and documenting their projects together (handling their online presence as well as filming). Meanwhile, Mauro tackles things hands-on (or as he colorfully puts it: “I build shit.”) He’s in his element wheeling pianos along grimy Tenderloin streets to play for the homeless and hopping aboard a fishing boat to serenade the migrating humpback whales. “Fortissimo” (a musical term for playing a piece loudly—and his chosen surname) certainly fits Mauro’s commitment to evade quiet living.

The partners also brought Flower Pianos to the San Francisco Botanical Garden, an event that tucks 12 pianos and over 50 performers throughout the luscious greenery of the park. Guests follow enchanting strains of music filtering through the trees from one location to the next—from a meadow to a redwood grove, from an arbor brimming with flowering perennials to a pond-side platform. “There’s just something about nature and music—both awe-inspiring in their own right—that causes them to elevate each other,” notes Mauro. (Keep an eye out for the event’s return this September).

Good Vibrations

During one cliffside concert, Mauro set a piano on fire. When the story hit the media, some were outraged. But what they called “destruction,” Mauro considered a “cremation ceremony.” “It’s all temporary,” Mauro reflects. “It’s not dying, it’s just converted to another thing. It’s a sculpture now.” He motions at the blackened form of the piano in question, which sits in a corner of his studio, tenderly adorned in tea lights. “Music is beyond time. It doesn’t die.”

Over 60 people have entrusted Mauro with their retired Steinways and Yamahas. They seem to understand that for Mauro, music isn’t just a pastime—it’s a way of life. And his Half Moon Bay studio stands testament. A gutted piano serves as a planter bed outside, while his oddly-shaped coffee table lived its previous life as a piano lid. Mauro’s massive paintings cover the walls and feature musical notes—which splash across the canvas like ink blots in a particularly passionate love letter. There’s deep respect there.

Keyboards on the other hand, haven’t earned Mauro’s esteem. “They’re cold and plastic,” he shudders. “A lot of the electronic stuff… after three, four or five years, they’re gone. Like a cellphone, you need to upgrade and buy a new one.” Continuing these musings, he adds, “To me, music is not about sounds only. When you play an acoustic instrument, there’s vibrations. It’s a human aspect. It’s a physical thing. If you stand in front of the piano and you pluck the bass strings, you feel it in your guts.” Take one of his largest sculptures to date: a booth of galvanized metal, lined in piano soundboards. When someone steps inside this “music box” to pluck the walls and ceiling, they are met by a storm of sound that reverberates under their feet.

No matter the setting and whatever its form, a piano in Mauro’s hands is infused with intense emotion and rich history. “It’s alive,” he asserts, “and it is full of memories of things alive.”

Crystal Springs Reservoir

Words by Dylan Lanier

Where Highway 92 intersects with 280, an expansive pair of oak-lined lakes shimmer beneath the bright California sun. The beautiful and functional Crystal Springs Reservoir offers one of the Peninsula’s most signature views. Its story begins with the Spanish Portolá Expedition of 1769, the first-ever land exploration of California by Europeans. The voyagers stopped at a lake called Laguna Grande—now covered by Upper Crystal Springs—where they feasted with the local native tribe. A century later, the Spring Valley Water Company (SVWC) held a tight monopoly on the San Francisco water supply, including Laguna Grande and Crystal Springs, a town that had developed just to the north. The town grew around the luxurious Crystal Springs Hotel, a popular getaway for rich city folk.

HISTORIC Photography: COURTESY OF Division of Engineering and Industry, National Museum of American History

In 1875, the SVWC demolished the hotel and built the Crystal Springs Dam to create an additional water source for San Francisco. By the time construction concluded—resulting in Lower Crystal Springs in 1887—the town had long emptied. While tantalizing rumors suggest that the town’s remnants lie in a watery grave, the SVWC maintained that all structures were “swept clean” prior to completion. Today, the reservoir is controlled by the city of San Francisco and functions as a backup to the Hetch Hetchy water supply. Additionally, the area serves as a State Fish and Game Refuge, providing sanctuary for animals like the endangered San Francisco garter snake. While public access to the reservoir is currently limited to a handful of paths, local groups are working with the city to construct more trails, expanding the ways to engage with this spectacular setting.

Essay: The Second Grade New Redux

Words by Sloane Citron

From a young age, I was attracted to words and pictures on paper. Whether a magazine, catalog or newspaper, I would study the publications with great intensity, strongly attracted to the design, symmetry and words captured through the printing process. Where this preoccupation came from, I’m not sure.

My father was a surgeon and my mother a concert violinist, so nothing there. I did have an uncle who was the head of an advertising firm back east and a grandfather (who passed before I was born) who spent all his money on artwork and relished the creatives among us. I suppose I was bequeathed some gene somewhere that led me to a love of the creative process and all things printed.

In any case, when I was a child approaching my eighth birthday, I got the idea to start a newspaper for and about my second grade class, taught by the sweet, caring Mrs. Fabian. Like many of us, I remember more about her and this class than I do about my entire high school classroom experiences.

Named (and I realize this wasn’t very original, but I gather I can have some slack with but seven years under my belt) The Second Grade News, I told Mrs. Fabian about my project and requested her help. Specifically, I asked her to supply me with mimeograph sheets and to run them off for me on a weekly basis, all to which she readily agreed. For those of you who do not remember Kennedy being shot, mimeographs were blue, ink-smelling sheets on which one would write and then replicate by means of a hand-cranked mimeograph machine, thus creating copies of the original.

Mimeograph sheets, which had a distinctive smell that you either loved or hated, were used for everything from homework assignments to tests to, in this case, very basic newspapers. Mrs. Fabian would give me several of them, so that when I messed one up, I could start fresh.

I produced the paper on weekends at the very desk of my late grandfather. Taking pause from playing sports or doing chores or messing with my dog, Tamby, I would create two pages with a variety of fun and, to me, interesting information, along with line drawings, illustrations and cartoons copied from The New Yorker. I used every inch of the sheet, placing a short article on a new kid in class next to the weather report next to a word game next to sign-up information about our softball team. There would be a plethora of short, fun things to read or look at, divided by lines and boxes and squiggly marks.

I took pride in my publishing responsibility—the thrill of creating something, the smell of the ink and the act of running a business. Once Mrs. Fabian printed the 50 or so copies of that week’s paper, I would line up kids in my class to go door-to-door selling them for a nickel each. For every paper sold, they received two cents, and I earned three cents. On a good week, I’d make a dollar, far surpassing my quarter-a-week allowance. This allowed me such luxuries as an extra dessert at lunch—usually a drippingly-good, freshly-baked sweet roll for a nickel.

The business went along swimmingly for several months before a couple of the parents started complaining that I was exploiting their children. I wanted to tell these parents that I was doing these kids a favor, giving them important job skills for their future. But Mrs. Fabian shut me down and after a week of feeling disappointed, I moved on to another project—making bracelets from metal chain dog leashes and selling them (myself) for a quarter. This was much more lucrative, but it didn’t scratch my creative itch.

Anyway, the point of all this reminiscing is to say that the new front editorial pages of PUNCH (QuickPUNCH), which follow this essay (if you are not skipping around or reading back to front as I do) comes directly from the thought processes that brought you The Second Grade News.

Apparently, I’ve evolved little from that time, instead just relying on technology a few steps up from the mimeograph machine. I would like it if PUNCH could have that inky smell to it, as it is rather intoxicating in a good way, but in any case, I do hope you enjoy PUNCH’s version of my earlier project. As an aside, should you wish to purchase a dog chain bracelet, that can be arranged. Just know that we’re in an inflationary period so the price has shot up.

Threads from the Past

Words by Sheryl Nonnenberg

The Marie Kondo method of house decluttering calls for discarding things that no longer spark joy. When it comes to Evelyn McMillan’s extensive collection of textiles, that mindset of paring down clearly doesn’t apply. A visit to her mid-Peninsula home reveals copious treasures stored in closets, wardrobes and chests—and Evelyn is eager to share the history and importance of each and every mola, batik, embroidered cloth and piece of lace she has acquired over the course of her lifetime.

It all began, she explains, with her mother’s penchant for embroidering small flowers on the collars of her dresses. Her mother and aunts did needlework and, at the age of five, Evelyn also began to learn the skill. But the collecting bug took hold when she started going to rummage sales organized by her mother. Evelyn loved helping the women sort and arrange clothing, and for her efforts, she was allowed to select a small item. “I bypassed the toys and books and went straight to the small pieces of lace and embroidery,” she laughs. You could say that was the first stitch in Evelyn’s lifelong obsession with the needle arts.

“Lace and embroidery don’t have a reason to exist,” she explains. “They don’t keep you warm or dry. It is the human love of color, pattern and creating beauty. What can you make out of a needle and thread?”
Fast-forward to the 1980s when Evelyn, a career librarian at Stanford University, began to attend the annual craft fairs on campus. It was here that she became aware of the colorful and detailed textiles of the Hmong culture. “I was blown away by the skill and needlework of the pieces I saw and knew they might be a dying art,” she recounts.

Evelyn became friendly with the women who were selling their work and learned of the turbulent history of the Hmong people, which was often portrayed in the form of story cloths. These large, colorful cloths consist of hundreds of figures and symbols that tell the migration story of the Hmong from China, through Laos and Vietnam, finally ending in resettlement in places like California’s Central Valley as well as in Minnesota and South Carolina. “The Hmong had no written language until the 1950s,” notes Evelyn. “This was how they told their story.”

As an example, she gestures to an incredibly detailed piece with tiny figures performing traditional dances, taking part in ritual customs and, sadly, being pursued by figures with guns as they made their way to refugee camps. Evelyn owns 49 of these story cloths. “I hope I am helping to preserve these,” she says, “as well as helping the women to pay the rent. They knew that I appreciated their work.”

Another of Evelyn’s prized collections is lace, specifically lace made during World War I. In the 1990s, she began spotting beautiful handmade lace tablecloths in second-hand and antique stores. An exhibit at the Hoover Tower on campus really honed her interest in “war lace” and the fascinating story behind this time period. Prior to 1914, lacemaking was a national art in Belgium. Created mainly by women, it was a thriving industry with exports to countries worldwide. With the onset of the war, the sea blockade of Belgium not only deprived people of necessities like food but also the thread needed for lacemaking.

Herbert Hoover, who was living in London at the time, intervened, and through the Commission for Relief in Belgium, arranged for famine relief and also the importation of lace thread. Evelyn shares that the lace industry, which included 50,000 workers, survived the war thanks to his efforts. In gratitude, commemorative gifts in the form of tablecloths were sent to his wife, Lou Henry Hoover, and are now on display in the Hoover Library and Archives.

Thanks to her extensive research, Evelyn can discern the difference between handmade and machine lace—even by just looking at a photo. She has amassed hundreds of examples, some in the form of tablecloths, pillowcases and other utilitarian formats but also small squares that have been cut away from larger pieces. This knowledge has enabled her to identify the many symbols found in pictorial lace that express outrage and sadness about the war. Animal figures portray the Allied countries and some lacemakers even depicted the Belgian lion defeating the German eagle—a subversive expression that could have had dire consequences.

World War I Belgian Lace

Lacemakers often used real or mythological animals as symbols in their work. In this tablecloth, Belgium: Lion, Russia: Bear, Great Britain: Unicorn, France: Cockerel, Italy: Standing Lion, Serbia: Eagle. (The United States had not yet entered the war.)

As a result of her research and collecting, Evelyn has become an acknowledged expert on the subject of war lace. She has written numerous articles for PieceWork magazine and is cited in an eight-volume publication on world textiles. Her passion for the subject has propelled her into an unexpected post-retirement career: textile consultant. “Opening my emails in the morning is a great adventure,” she reports. “I never know who I am going to hear from.” Evelyn has assisted countless people in determining whether their lace is valuable—and what to do if it is.

Recently, a man from Vermont sent her a photograph of a lace tablecloth he had inherited. Putting her research skills to work, Evelyn discovered the town in Western Flanders where the lace was made (doing this required working in French and Flemish) and even found a photograph of the church depicted in the center of the lace, which had been destroyed by the Germans and then rebuilt. During the course of the year she spent on this project, the owner trusted Evelyn enough to actually send the lace to her for some conservation work. “It was custom-made in the town, with many women working on it,” she divulges. “It is a very complicated, detailed piece.”

Thanks to her hard work, not only has the lace been identified and conserved but it will be returning to the small town of Hooglede in Belgium, where it will be displayed in the City Hall as a memorial
to the war.

Hooglede Tablecloth

In this piece, two lacemaking techniques are used: bobbin lace and needle lace.

Bobbin Lace is done by weaving (or plaiting) threads together to create patterns. The thread is wound on pairs of wooden bobbins; complex figural lace can require hundreds and hundreds of bobbins.

Needle Lace is built up from individual knots or loops done with a needle and a single thread on a skeleton of outline threads that have been established over the pattern.

“Beginning lacemakers worked on it as well as expert lacemakers,” Evelyn explains. “I love that about this lace; everybody’s work was included.”

Returning the lace to its origin—and establishing its provenance—was obviously very rewarding for Evelyn. But whether it’s an intricately sewn tablecloth or just a patch of colorful embroidery, it’s clear that every piece in her collection sparks joy in her heart.

“I think they are an underrated art form—underrated because we live surrounded by everyday textiles and because they are mostly made by women,” she observes. “For me, textiles, like art, don’t have to do anything or be anything. Their ability to bring joy, beauty, knowledge and interest into our lives is enough.”

Spread the Love

Words by Jen Jory

Marilyn Johnson tracks the seasons by the fruit ripening along the coast: olallieberries and strawberries in the summer; apricots and plums in the spring; pumpkins and pears in the fall.

The why is simple. “I have been making jam my whole life,” explains Marilyn, the founder of Spread the Love Jams & Jellies.

The Half Moon Bay native and artisan jam maker picks and sources from the local community she has known since childhood. “My grandparents were farmers in San Gregorio and my mom and uncle worked on the farm,” she notes. “We always picked blackberries to make jelly and I spent all of my time on the farm.” As a hobby in her twenties, Marilyn would gather friends to spend the day harvesting olallieberries to make jams, jellies and syrups.


Eventually, Marilyn’s love of agriculture and jam-making became more than a creative outlet. As a volunteer for her daughter Megan’s 4-H club, Marilyn inspired the young members with lessons in the art of jam-making, resulting in blue ribbon-winning jelly at the San Mateo County Fair every year. A 4-H leader suggested that Marilyn make preserves for Half Moon Bay’s Pasta Moon restaurant, and she soon began jarring seasonal preserves for their fruit galettes. In 2013, Marilyn launched Spread the Love, selling at the local farmers market and to chefs, including the former executive chef at the Ritz Carlton, who featured a trio of her jellies at brunch.

Marilyn’s lifelong connection to farmers feeds the symbiotic relationship that infuses her products with authentic local flavors. “We are a super close-knit community,” she emphasizes. “They are why I am successful. I am so fortunate to live here and have such support.” She recounts the joy of selling jelly at the Half Moon Bay Farmers Market, right alongside the farmers she grew up with. “There are generations of farmers here,” she points out. “I am still close to my mother’s generation. We all look out for one another and help each other.”

Today, Marilyn produces over 3,000 jars of jams and jellies annually, relying on the bounty from mostly coastal farms. She describes herself as a one-woman show—sourcing, cooking, canning and delivering her family recipes. Though Marilyn is a sole proprietor, the support of family and her community remains her superpower. “My mom taught me how to make jelly and she is my biggest cheerleader,” she shares.

As a fourth-generation farmer, Marilyn’s roots run deep—back to her maternal great-grandfather who served as the first Farm Bureau president in Stanislaus County. When World War II hit, her grandparents lost everything: “They were sent to internment camps in Tanforan and Utah, along with my mom, aunt and two uncles.” After the war, the family returned to the coast—to once again farm, dive for abalone and fish for crab.


Her family’s work ethic remains engrained in her today and Marilyn works full-time at her craft. A typical week finds her juicing, slicing and jarring Meyer Lemon Marmalade in the winter and hand-picking strawberries and blackberries in the summer. She constantly restocks Rosemary Jelly, a popular pairing with roasted lamb and pork. Marilyn’s creations have even found their way into local signature cocktails. The Swell Lounge at Jettywave mixes their Offshore Vodka with Spread the Love marmalade, mandarin liqueur, fresh lemon juice and sparkling wine. (Ask for “This is My Jam.”)

Marilyn jars a lot of Pineapple Habanero Jelly for use on charcuterie boards, glazed chicken and baked Brie wrapped in phyllo dough. “I love fried fish and egg rolls with the Habanero,” she confides. When Marilyn isn’t jarring and canning, she indulges her favorite foodie hobby—made possible by the coast’s abundant resources. “My passion is foraging,” she says. “I forage for mushrooms, fir tips, miner’s lettuce and medicinal plants such as nettles. I also like to fish for eel and rockfish.”


Using only the best fruit varieties, Marilyn underscores the importance of selecting flavor-rich produce such as Sweet Ann strawberries, O’Henry peaches and Blenheim apricots. In addition to being sold online, Spread the Love’s organic, vegan and gluten-free products line the shelves of coastal stores including Cunha’s Country Store and New Leaf Community Market.

Every second Saturday, Marilyn can be found selling more than 15 unique California fruit blends at Harvard Community Market, an outdoor event featuring a curated mix of local artists and makers near Pillar Point Harbor. “I love the markets where I can connect with customers,” she shares. “And I love making a product that I am really proud of.”

Meanwhile, the fifth generation is already showing interest in the family business. “My granddaughter is all about the jam,” Marilyn smiles. “She always asks me if I am making jam and wants to see it cooking.” Talk about a berry good way to spread the love further.

Berry Delicious

spreadthelovejelly.com

Primo Pasta

Words by Johanna Harlow

Italico, an upscale Italian restaurant and wine bar on Palo Alto’s California Avenue, is priming for a bustling Friday night. Owner Maico Campilongo watches his servers pull chairs off tables, prep the patio space and generally help the ristorante unfold. “It’s like a flower opening,” he observes.

Tonight, Maico is joined by Michael Oliverio, tallying two of iTalico’s five founders. The group also includes Maico’s brother Franco Campilongo, his cousin Giuseppe Errico and chef Kristjan D’Angelo. “We all have a great passion for food, wine and the hospitality business—and never stop learning from each other!” Michael says. “Michael is basically the face of this restaurant—he brought in his beautiful energy,” credits Maico, who oversees customer service and public relations. Maico also keeps busy running Terún Pizzeria, a more casual spot only a block away (also with Franco and Kristjan).

Left to Right: Italico founders Maico Campilongo, Executive Chef Kristjan D’Angelo and Michael Oliverio

When describing their partner dynamic, Maico chuckles and pulls out another metaphor: “Business is like marriage.” The recipe for a successful union? In this case, 15-plus years of friendship. “We were able to create an atmosphere in the restaurant for our employees and customers that feels like home,” explains Michael.

Whereas Terún zips along at a fast pace, iTalico’s sit-down concept invites a more indulgent tempo. “People take their time here—enjoy an extra bottle of wine, mingle more,” Michael describes. “It gives us the chance to get to know our customers better.” iTalico’s “wine cellar chic” interior also invites a relaxed pace with cozy, low lighting and plenty of wood accents that invoke oak barrels. A guitar in the corner ensures that guests (or Maico) brighten the space with live music almost nightly. (Fun fact: Those strings have even been strummed by a famous basketball player).

iTalico also boasts a sought-after private room. “We said no to Elon Musk,” chuckles Maico. “He asked for this room, but it didn’t happen because we were booked that night.” Steph Curry, on the other hand, did make it through the door.

Of course, the meal must meet the expectations set by the space—and iTalico delivers with prestigious Michelin Bib Gourmand distinction. To start the meal right, try the frittelle: fluffy fried pizza dough layered with salty prosciutto and topped with a generous dollop of melt-in-your-mouth burrata. Pasta lovers are sure to fall for iTalico’s pillowy ravioli stuffed with spinach and ricotta… That, or the heartier paccheri, which blankets thick, tube-shaped pasta and chunks of braised ribeye with a rich tomato sauce and grated flakes of Grana Padano.

Initially, the owners concentrated on pasta (“Al dente, the traditional way, the way we enjoy,” Maico specifies.) as well as other standout Italian entrees and an award-winning wine list. Not wanting to encroach on Terún, pizza wasn’t part of the plan—but iTalico later added everyone’s favorite slice-shaped comfort food and gave it their own spin. “Here, it’s 80% whole wheat flour,” clarifies Maico of iTalico’s airy light crust. At Terún, it’s strictly double zero flour—a requirement for any true Neapolitan-style pizza. Terún, is in fact, VPN certified—one of only 11 pizzerias in California to be bestowed the coveted status by the world’s leading Neapolitan purists.

These days, iTalico diners devour mortadella pizzas with rovagnati and pistachio (“It reminds me of when I was a kid,” Maico says.) or slices of diavola with spicy sausage. Intrepid diners opt for nduja. “You get the spicy and the peppery of the spreadable sausage and the sweetness of the zucchini together, combined with the mozzarella,” tempts Michael. “It’s really, really tasty.”

Though iTalico’s founders hail from southern Italy, the restaurant’s dishes span regions. “We decided that we had to expand a little bit more and represent more of the whole country,” Michael explains. The frittura mista places you in southern Italy, while the ossobuco and pollo Milanese draws you north. Then, “The spaghetti di mare brings you back to the Amalfi Coast,” he says.

The wine list and its 120+ labels also allow diners to travel by taste from Piemonte to Puglia, Sardinia to Sicily. “Explore this beautiful country,” invites Maico. This wide selection earned iTalico Wine Spectator’s Award of Excellence. Unsure of what to uncork? “I’ve been in love with amarone,” Maico says of a robust northern Italian red that pairs well with meat and tomatoes. There’s also a lighter, fruitier barolla, an excellent companion to fish and that spicy diavola.

To keep their batteries charged, iTalico’s owners pursue interests outside the restaurant. Michael races his Ducati in an amateur league (and has even accelerated along the iconic Laguna Seca track)—while Maico, his brother and his cousin take to the road on Ventum bikes. Going a pedal further, Terún sponsors a team of 60 to 70 riders from every category as well as Team TIBCO, an elite women’s cycling team that recently competed in the UCI Women’s World Tour. “Through cycling, we’ve been able to go out into society much more,” Maico shares. Plus, it burns serious carbs. “That’s the whole point: to be able to eat more wonderful food,” quips Maico. “More pasta!” Michael chimes in.

When the partners return to the restaurant, they do so wholeheartedly. “I never feel like I go to work because I enjoy so much what I do,” remarks Michael. “I enjoy every single aspect from the moment I walk through the door to the moment I get to the kitchen to see the produce and whatever the chef is preparing for specials to talking to the wine guy and the servers—every aspect makes me happy.” Maico smiles in agreement, adding, “When a customer tells me, ‘Thank you, I had a wonderful night.’ This is the prize.”

Twist Your Tines

italicorestaurant.com

The Beat on your Eats: Tapas

Words by Johanna Harlow

Go splitsies on traditional Spanish tapas and other shareable bites.

telefèric barcelona

Palo Alto

When you choose elevated Spanish tapas at Telefèric Barcelona, expect Spanish meatballs coated in a tangy canary masala sauce and marinated ahi tuna tucked into crispy wonton shells. Also be sure to order dark red and gorgeously marbled slices of Jamón Ibérico de Bellota (acorn-fed, 38-month-cured ham), then layer it onto slices of bread with a refreshing tomato spread. Still hungry? Good. Because Telefèric Barcelona boasts sizzling hot pans of paella and you should absolutely split one with your dining companion. Expect your meal to be served in a room with bohemian vibes—wicker lampshades and baskets, handwoven pillows in the booth seats and an abundance of leafy-green fronds. 855 El Camino Real #130. Open daily.

canteen wine & spirits

Menlo Park

For coastal-centric Spanish tapas, set sail with Canteen Wine & Spirits, the first restaurant at the new Springline development. This intimate venue takes you to sea straightaway with its driftwood-shaded furnishings and surf fin table numbers. Chart the waters with a Seville Sunset on the rocks or a rum and ginger Message in a Bottle. Imagine the sea breeze on your face with a salty dish like the Poached Shrimp “Coctele Verde,” an elevated ceviche with herbs blended into the leche de tigre and creamy avocado complementing the crunch of the cucumber. Bold seafarers navigate more frigid waters with the Alaskan halibut: silky-smooth strips of raw fish that pair exotically well with sweet kiwi and a chili zing. Back on dry land, dip comforting croquettes of fava beans and garlic into a creamy marcona almond romesco dipping sauce. 558 Oak Grove Avenue. Open Monday to Saturday.

dash

San Mateo

Have you noticed that tapas are jumping the Spanish border? For a creative Japanese take, rush to DASH in downtown San Mateo. With one-of-a-kind items, this fusion-forward restaurant invites diners into tasty new territory with their Dash Tacos (seared salmon and chunky salsa in seaweed shells) and their enticingly titled Top Secret (pan-fried crispy rice with spicy tuna and jalapeno). Also offering all the faithful finger food standbys, DASH provides chicken karaage, ebi tempura and garlic edamame. Even if you’re completely stuffed, keep rolling and order the sushi. 204A 2nd Avenue. Open daily.

Getaway: SLO It Down

Words by Sophia Markoulakis

The allure and charm of the Central Coast is as varied as its topography—fertile valleys from Salinas down past Ojai are protected and buffered by various mountain ranges. This 300-mile region between the Pacific Ocean and the Los Padres National Forest is a playground for visitors looking for recreation and relaxation. Early spring is an ideal time of year to make your way down U.S. 101. Our destination for a weekend getaway was San Luis Obispo (SLO), and our plan was to enjoy the charming downtown while also exploring the region’s agricultural riches through food, farms and wineries.

Wineries

Head in any direction, and within minutes, you’ll run into a winery. There are 40 AVAs in the Central Coast, but we focused on two: Templeton Gap (a sub-appellation of Paso Robles AVA) and SLO Coast. Iconic winemaker, Ken Volk, coined the term “Templeton Gap” in 1982, and it became a region known for growing cooler climate Rhône varietals.

Many of the Templeton Gap wineries surround the town of Templeton, a quaint stretch of blocks that resemble a Western movie set. We popped into Kitchenette for a delicious breakfast before heading to AmByth Estate, a short drive through the area’s rolling hills. The winery, established by Phillip Hart in 2005, is now run by his son Gelert and daughter-in-law Robyn. The couple raises their two sons on the land and share it with a llama named Scarlett and an ever-growing flock of sheep.

All of the 20 acres of vines (11 varietals) and 3 acres of olive trees (several Italian varietals) are dry-farmed, and the land and plants are certified organic and carry the Demeter biodynamic certification. The wines are considered natural and receive no additives like sugar or yeast. They produce roughly 1,500 cases a year, and unlike plenty of natural wines that can carry a distinct “funk,” AmByth’s wine doesn’t. “We won’t release a wine until the funk is gone,” comments Robyn. “Many natural wines are bottled too soon and continue to age in the bottle, which can be a turn-off.”

South of SLO is Talley Vineyards in the Arroyo Grande Valley. This farming family produces grapes within the newly designated SLO Coast Wine AVA. Brian Talley, a third-generation farmer, led us through a tasting of his family’s estate wines in their beautiful tasting room overlooking Rincon Vineyard. We talked about his grandfather’s legacy and the land he once rented and then purchased. “It’s one of the wisest things he did,” Brian reflects. Brian’s parents met at Cal and returned to the family’s six vineyards in 1962.Talley predominantly grows chardonnay and pinot noir grapes, and the finesse and balance of the wine reflect the unique terroir.

Even with a production of 20,000 cases per year, you still get the sense that this is a family operation, run by real people who care deeply about the land. We talked about how SLO and this wine region, in the shadow of Paso Robles, feels undiscovered. “We’re still a forgotten pocket,” Brian acknowledges. “An undiscovered gem.”

Where to Stay

To soak up the essence of SLO, we booked a stay at Hotel San Luis Obispo (Hotel SLO), a bustling downtown property that feels like an urban oasis. With only 78 rooms, the space boasts a boutique-y atmosphere, yet has all the amenities of a full-service hotel with a spa, coffee bar and live entertainment. Its location, a block from Mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa and within the city’s historic Chinatown, is close enough to shops and restaurants for easy access, yet once inside, feels a world away.

Our room was bright and airy with plenty of space to spread out. An outdoor balcony with table and chairs offered views of the surrounding hills and historic terracotta-tiled roofs. We enjoyed every square inch of the property, from the rooftop High Bar to the casual restaurant Piadina and the elegant steakhouse, Ox + Anchor.

The Granada Hotel & Bistro is also located downtown. With only 17 rooms, this boutique property has a European vibe with its historic brick exterior, wrought iron Juliette balconies, Persian rugs and original hardwood floors. The property’s all-day eatery, The Granada Bistro, serves Parisian food with a Spanish flair.

Downtown Shopping

For locally-owned shops with inventory unique to the area, visit Buen Dia for colorful and affordable wall art, The Mercantile (right around the corner from Hotel SLO) for California casual western wear, Cattaneo Brothers for jerky and The Larder Meat Co. for local meat and provisions. Grace Lorenzen opened The Larder Meat Co. last fall as an ancillary business to her husband’s meat company. A few steps away, her twin sister’s Idlewild Floral offers preserved and dried flowers. “It was great luck to find spaces so close to each other,” remarks Grace.

Drinking and Dining

San Luis Obispo is a progressive region when it comes to its cash crop—grapes—and many wineries are reducing waste from the winemaking process by producing spirits. We are fans of good whiskey, so we headed to Rod & Hammer’s SLO Stills distillery and tasting room, a few minutes from our hotel, for an afternoon of fries and rye. Follow the region’s distillery trail for a comprehensive list of all the spirits being produced in the area.

We dined at Ember Restaurant in nearby Arroyo Grande and enjoyed chef/owner Brian Collins’ take on locally-produced provisions. Brian spent many years working at Chez Panisse and brought his pedigree back to his hometown. Book at least one visit for your trip—it’s that good. For phenomenal wood-fired pizza, drop by Bear & The Wren, one of a few restaurants housed in The Creamery Marketplace.

Food and Farms

Agriculture is the leading economic driver for San Luis Obispo County, and there are endless opportunities to experience this through farm and winery visits. FARMstead Ed, a farm trail map and educational resource for visitors and residents of the county, was created by Lynette Sonne, who saw a gap in connecting small farms with the area’s tourism industry. Many farms host experiences like soap- and cheese-making workshops, which bring people out to see where their food originates. Back in town, Higuera Street turns into the epic SLO Farmers Market every Thursday evening.

Adventure

If you look closely at the rolling green hills, you’ll see patterns of native and non-native wildflowers in shades of orange, purple, blue and yellow. To admire the local flora, and potentially a superbloom, head for the rugged coastal cliffs of Montaña de Oro State Park or the vast Carrizo Plain National Monument. Both are about a half-hour drive from downtown SLO. Central Coast Trailrides lets you couple wildflower viewing with a horseback ride via Roan or Appaloosa. And if you’re up for a challenging four-mile hike (including a 500-foot elevation gain), Cerro San Luis, the mountain at the center of SLO, delivers panoramic views extending from Arroyo Grande Valley to Morro Bay.

Take it SLO

slocal.com

Quickstep Couple

Words by Sheri Baer

Draped in a dreamy white dress with flowing sleeves and a plunging back, Aira Bubnelyte glides across the floor in the arms of her partner, Tomas Atkocevicius, impeccably attired in black tux and tails. “This is so Fred and Ginger—I love it!” enthuses the announcer as the couple twirls to the rise and fall of Count Basie’s “One Mint Julep.” “So smooth—the epitome of grace and formality,” the commentary continues. “They are doing the classic essence of ballroom.”

The setting: the PBS-televised Ohio Star Ball in 2005. And it was just one of many stops—or steps—in the extraordinary journey that’s swept Tomas and Aira from their hometown of Kaunas, Lithuania, to the elite ranks of competitive DanceSport, and ultimately to the Peninsula, where they channel their shared aspirations into San Mateo’s Dance Vita Ballroom.

Waltz. Jive. Cha Cha Cha. Salsa. Quickstep. Samba. Whether students opt for competitive, social or fitness dance—group lessons or private—the couple describes the outcome as uplifting, strengthening exercise. “When you dance, every muscle group of the body is working,” notes Aira, “and it’s also really therapeutic. You have to think a lot when you dance—doing the steps, listening to the music—so people forget their daily struggles.”

As lifelong dancers and teachers, Aira and Tomas credit education with playing a vital role in their success. Before they can guide the fast directional changes and staccato movements of the tango or the slow-quick-quick rhythm of the foxtrot, they have to entice feet onto the floor. “People here don’t know about ballroom dancing,” explains Aira. “Dancing with the Stars helped a lot, but that’s also not quite the same. The biggest challenge is for people to find out about it.”

That’s hardly the case in the couple’s home country, where dance is deeply embedded in Lithuanian culture. Dance competitions draw enthusiastic fans, and ballroom dancing is promoted on buses and regularly broadcast on TV. “In Lithuania, ballroom dancing is very popular as a sport,” affirms Aira. “It’s almost right after basketball.”

Aira herself began taking lessons at the age of six and can barely remember a time before dance. “I slowly fell in love with it, and then it became my passion,” she recalls, describing the discipline and training that led to winning major titles including World Youth Ballroom Champion and Amateur World Cup Ballroom Champion. “It’s always a battle inside you to fight with your butterflies,” she shares. “I loved the competing part of it, I loved the travel and I loved the community itself.”

Tomas started dancing at eight, but he admits it was far from love at first step. “My family made the decision, and I went along with it,” he recounts. “I was always at the bottom of the field because I was competing against kids who started at six and seven.” At 13, Tomas got his first taste of winning and finally succumbed to dance’s allure: “When you get a good result, it feels fantastic. It feels very rewarding.” At one point ranked first by the International DanceSport Federation, Tomas became a four-time Lithuanian Amateur Ballroom Champion.

Although they grew up in the same hometown, Tomas and Aira didn’t find themselves in a two-hand-hold position until they were older. At the ages of 26 and 20, they became dance partners—which also led to becoming life partners. “It was very natural because we spent a lot of time together, and our goals were the same. Eventually, we started to develop feelings for each other,” says Tomas. “First, it was just dancing and then little bit by little bit…” smiles Aira. “Even though I said I will never marry a dancer.”

After competing in the World Championships in Miami in 2003, the couple accepted a course-altering invitation to visit a friend in the Bay Area. Struck by “how beautiful life is here,” they envisioned a future for themselves on the Peninsula. “At that time, it was a lot of social dancing here, not a lot of competitive dancing,” Tomas says, “so we felt we could build something.”

Initially competing and teaching in studios all over the Bay Area and beyond, they realized their dream when they opened Dance Vita with two dance friends in 2011 (they are now solo owners) and settled in nearby San Carlos.

With a teaching staff and 7,200 square feet of ballroom space, Dance Vita’s schedule is packed with offerings. West Coast swing, bachata or salsa? Latin cardio? Friday Social Party? Argentine tango? Recognizing how overwhelming the choices can be, the studio offers a free group lesson and a 30-minute private lesson for new students, who range in age “from four years old to 80-something.” “That way, if they don’t know what they want to do, they can come in and try different things,” says Aira. “For people who feel like, ‘I have two left feet,’ I always say, ‘Just come and try.’”

In Ballroom Fitness, instructor Razmik Papian leads students through tango steps to Ed Sheeran’s “Bad Habits.” “Right foot forward, arms up,” he instructs, as the class progresses through basic elements of five ballroom dances. “You don’t partner up. You follow the teacher, the moves, and it’s nonstop,” describes Aira. “It’s mainly for stamina, for cardio, so it’s more like a gym type of workout.” While the fitness classes skew heavily to women, Aira and Tomas were surprised to see group social dancing classes (which rotate partners) filling up with men. “Engineers love to dance,” Aira observes. “In dancing, you have to think about how to do things, figure out the directions, the steps. They feel like they are in their own niche with that.”

Another popular offering is Dance Vita’s wedding package, which prepares couples for their first dance. When Aira and Tomas first opened the studio, they didn’t even know that was a thing. “So we said, ‘Okay, let’s start it,’” says Tomas, “and it took off.” In four lessons, couples learn a small routine choreographed to their favorite song. “It feels more special,” adds Aira, “and they don’t feel as awkward with all the guests watching them.” On the competition front, the couple takes pride in Dance Vita’s reputation and what their students achieve. “We have national champions at all categories—from the pre-teen to the senior level,” reports Tomas. “Some of them are world champions or world finalists as well.”

With their six-year-old son Oskar added into the mix, the quickstep has become a way of life for the couple. Some days, they say it can be midnight before they finally find a chance to talk. Despite the breathless pace, they are grateful to be partners in this particular dance. “I love coming to work every day,” reflects Aira. Tomas nods in agreement: “It’s nice to go to work because it doesn’t feel like work. The studio feels like an extension of our home.”

Cha Cha Cha

dancevita.com

Perfect Shot: Bird on a Wire

As an avid birder and amateur wildlife conservation photographer, San Mateo’s Michael Pagano can frequently be found exploring the Peninsula’s natural wonders. While walking Crystal Springs Regional Trail (the section that borders the reservoir and Cañada Road), he spotted a small Savannah sparrow flitting between dry flower heads in an open meadow. “When the sparrow flew off to settle on the barbed wire fence, this is when we had a stare down, as if the bird was saying, ‘Are you looking at me?’” relays Michael, who is always camera-ready. “The ‘Perfect Shot’ presented itself,” he adds. “Snap and gotcha!”

Image by Michael Pagano / @paganografx

Calling all Shutterbugs: If you’ve captured a unique perspective of the Peninsula, we’d love to see your Perfect Shot. Email us at hello@punchmonthly.com to be considered for publication.

Diary of a Dog: Boris

Guten Tag from Los Altos. My name is Boris, as in Boris Godunov, although sometimes I get called Boris Badenov, for no reason that I can discern. One thing you should know about me: I don’t do stairs. I mean, I can if I have to, but I’m a German Shepherd so my job is keeping a watchful eye on my family, and I can do that just fine from right here. I live with Tom and Ellen, and they treat me like the well-trained professional that I am. They look to me to let them know when Esther arrives with the mail or when the UPS guy stops out front. I tell them when it’s my feeding time (to the minute) and I stand guard (I’m just pretending to sleep) on the living room floor until 12:30AM, when I go off-duty to catch some Zs in my bed. Last year, Ellen wrote a novel called East of Troost, and I was the inspiration for the German Shepherd—also named Boris—who similarily doesn’t do stairs. Ellen made it a big deal when the Boris in her book eventually ventured down to the basement. But he had a reason, and as I said before, I can take the steps if it’s really necessary. It just hasn’t been absolutely necessary, not yet.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

Composing a Lyrical Life

Words by Johanna Harlow

What is it about the swell of a symphony that leaves us breathless? “To understand words, our brain has to make sense of what’s being said—but with music, it’s direct,” explains Paul Phillips, who has conducted more than 75 orchestras, opera companies and ballet troupes worldwide—and currently oversees both the Stanford Symphony Orchestra and Stanford Philharmonia. “We listen to a certain piece of music and suddenly we can be crying or feel ecstasy.” The conductor-composer thoughtfully adds, “We don’t even know for sure what came first: singing or speaking. There’s a theory that singing came first. There’s a book about that called The Singing Neanderthals.”

Paul credits a catalytic music festival during his teens for propelling him into classical music. “I was relatively old,” he says. At the mature age of 16, he was already a decade behind many of the masters. “Musical prodigies are giving concerts when they’re five and six years old,” he states with matter-of-factness. But when Paul was swept up in a daring Mozart piano concerto with Stravinsky’s “Firebird” as the triumphant finale, he couldn’t resist the call. “I was trembling at the end. I mean, I couldn’t stop shaking,” Paul recalls. “I just felt this overwhelming need to find out more.”

Although he played trumpet in a jazz band before this pivotal experience, classical music and conducting now consumed him. “This could be a really interesting thing to do with one’s life,” he remembers thinking. Despite his “late start,” Paul amassed considerable hours conducting band and choir performances during his high school years. “If you think of music in terms of colors, symphony orchestra has such a rich variety,” Paul describes. “An orchestra has many different types of sounds…The range is so vast.”

In fact, Paul explains, the complexity of the music is why the conducting role arose in the early 19th century. “It was considered impolite to turn your back on the audience—so the orchestra would follow the conductor from behind, and the conductor would be out there smiling at the audience,” Paul informs with his own smile. “Mendelssohn came along and said, ‘Well, that’s not a great idea.’ So he turned sideways—because he wasn’t gonna turn his back to the audience. He’s a little too polite for that.” It was the irreverent Wagner who first broke etiquette by addressing only his musicians. “It was very controversial,” Paul laughs. “It took decades for that to be considered acceptable.”

Orchestra and Academia

After acting as Director of Orchestras and Chamber Music at Brown University for just under three decades, Paul moved to Palo Alto in 2017 to take his current position conducting both the Stanford Symphony Orchestra (a 115-member group) and Stanford Philharmonia (a 40- to 50-member chamber orchestra).

To a twenty-something Paul, all this would have been news. “Academia was not my plan,” Paul confides. After college, he held positions at the Frankfurt Opera and Stadttheater Lüneburg with the intention of climbing the German opera house ladder. After he won the Exxon Arts Endowment Conductors Program, a conducting position at Greensboro Symphony Orchestra drew him back to the States. Positions at the Savannah and Maryland Symphony Orchestras followed.

Despite his early reservations about taking a collegiate role, Paul has grown to appreciate the enthusiasm of university students. “They’re so eager. They have this incredible passion!” he observes. “They’re trying to make great music happen and everybody’s giving all that they can.”

As his students leave the nest, Paul also finds reward in watching where they land. One of his students, Charlie Alterman, went on to be musical director (and pianist) for several Broadway shows including Godspell, Pippen and Martin Short’s one-man show Fame Becomes Me.

A Lyrical Adventure

When Paul isn’t rallying the orchestral troops with expressive hands and a swift baton, he composes—to date, a number of orchestral works, theater music, an opera and a ballet. Research is his other calling. It so happens that this professor is also a leading expert on the musical ardor of Anthony Burgess, an author most well-known for his novel A Clockwork Orange, which features a sociopath incited to acts of mayhem by classical music. “It wasn’t that he wrote books and wrote music—it’s that he did both and they were completely connected with each other,” expresses Paul. “Burgess said novelists should learn from composers how to structure a novel and suggested that they do this by applying musical form to literary form.” Paul published a hefty book on the subject called A Clockwork Counterpoint.

Paul shares that it was the author’s obituary that launched him on this investigatory path. It began with a quote: “I wish people would think of me as a musician who writes novels, instead of a novelist who writes music on the side.” Paul thought, “‘Wow, that’s a strong statement. What is this music?’” Swept up on a quest for answers, Paul wound up in Monte Carlo, cataloging Burgess’ musical scores for the author’s widow. “I couldn’t believe how much of it there was and how good the quality of it was!” he recounts. Paul later performed these pieces live and created the first-ever recording of the author’s music.

Above all, for Paul—whether he’s setting tempo with his baton or uncovering unpublished gems—it’s music’s emotion that continues to strike the deepest chord. “You can feel love and you can feel regret and you can feel joy,” he rhapsodizes, “and all these things just by the way the music enters your ears and resonates with your body.”

QuickPUNCH Q&A: Drew Dunlevie

The Peninsula Arts Guild president on the remarkable transformation of Menlo Park’s buzzy live music venue, his most prized possession, the song that most reminds him of high school and more.

What most surprises people about The Guild?
That it exists at all.

What’s your favorite Beatles song?
I’m more of a Stones guy. The Beatles are interesting. The Stones are scary. As for a favorite Stones tune, that’s impossible given the scope of the catalog.

What would be your pitch to get The Rolling Stones to play The Guild?
I would tell them we have a stage big enough for Mick to really move around! I’d also mention that it is one of the best-sounding rooms on the planet (Thanks Meyer Sound!). Lastly, I’d tell them that Ken Fulk did the design and he’d be there…and when Ken is there, you know it’s going to be an amazing party!

What piece of advice would you give your younger self?
Try. Don’t be intimidated by the opportunity. Be a doer. I’ve started a bunch of things, some worked, some didn’t. I’m just glad I gave this project a try.

What is the dumbest way you’ve been hurt?
Tore my ACL doing a 360 dunk on a low basketball hoop before our first Guild board meeting.

What song reminds you of high school?
“Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds.

What’s your favorite quote?
“The line between art and kitsch is largely measured in ruin.”
—Adam Gopnik

What is your most prized possession?
My concert poster collection.

What’s something people are always surprised to learn about you?
I’m shy.

What’s your favorite sports team and why?
The Texas Longhorns. My alma mater. You don’t get a choice.

What are your three all-time favorite TV shows?
The Wire, WKRP in Cincinnati, Justified (list subject to change every hour).

What’s your favorite book?
All the Pretty Horses by Cormac McCarthy.

If you could pick a superpower, what would it be?
Playing guitar.

What age would you choose to be again and why?
I’d be 39, because my kids were three and five. I’m about to be an empty nester and I just remember those ages as being a magical time. I’d do it all over again.

 

Keeping in Character: Lauren Rilliet Design

Words by Sophia Markoulakis

An idyllic family-friendly oasis, San Mateo’s Baywood neighborhood presents a distinctive composition of Spanish revival, Tudor and colonial-style homes. Front yards are meticulously maintained, and sidewalks are wide enough to push a stroller or tag behind a toddler’s first attempt at training wheels. With meandering roads that gently bend to the area’s topography, this coveted series of several blocks are filled with children playing outdoors and neighbors congregating with a glass of wine on a warm evening. It’s exactly that kind of hard-to-find character that Lauren Rilliet and her family were seeking 12 years ago when they decided to leave San Francisco. When a Baywood property came on the market, they jumped on it.

Pregnant with her second of three children, Lauren knew the move would signify a new phase in life. Not long after, she left her career at the brand, Gap Inc., where she had worked for 16 years. When she began remodeling her Spanish revival home, she often referred back to her experiences at Banana Republic where she was a fashion director and built out stores.

 

Knowing how to create retail spaces and style a collection of clothing came in handy. Today, she implements that knowledge as an interior designer for her firm Lauren Rilliet Design. “Putting together a home is not that much different than putting together a fully-styled outfit,” she observes. “It seemed like a logical progression to go from fashion to interiors.”
Lauren’s home, with its classic Spanish Mediterranean charm, needed a new kitchen and bathrooms. Right around the time she was wrapping up her last bathroom remodel, a neighbor asked if she could assist with hers. Six years later, Lauren has helped facilitate dozens of small and large home makeovers including more than 10 in the Baywood neighborhood.

For a recent project, a stately Parrott Drive colonial, Lauren teamed with Jeanne Davis of Davis Architecture to transition the interior’s Hollywood regency glam into a more authentic, laid-back space. One of the main tasks was to open up the home to more light and infuse a sense of comfy intimacy. “We lightened up the wood floors, added white oak for warmth and changed out fixtures,” she says. “We actually lowered the ceiling in the main living space to accommodate lighting and create a cozier feel. The wood beams were added to achieve that as well.”

By adding a wall, Davis Architecture also achieved a more welcoming entryway and improved the flow to the rest of the house. Lauren opted for a modern light fixture to juxtapose the antique rug. “We mixed in antiques with cleaner lines,” she notes.

The home’s boho-styled powder room speaks to Lauren’s preferred design aesthetic. “We were looking for a ‘wow’ moment there,” she further elaborates. “The family travels frequently, and we wanted to reference that with the wallpaper’s rich color palette.” The bamboo Chippendale mirror and mix of finishes on fixtures amplify the desired look.

Given Lauren’s personal connection to Baywood, her design projects focus on keeping close tabs on the architectural integrity of the homes she updates. “My style aligns with these homes, especially the Spanish revivals with their hand-painted terra cotta tiles. My clients are respectful of their home’s architecture and the original intent of the house,” she explains.

In Lauren’s own home, the arched leaded glass windows and wood beams speak to the home’s Spanish revival provenance. Unlike her client’s colonial on Parrott Drive, she darkened the wood floors so that they would better ground the family’s heirlooms and antique rugs. Many of the heirlooms—like the antique Chinese pottery and antique clock—come from her husband’s family. It’s an eclectic style that aligns perfectly with her home and the Baywood neighborhood—a charming community striving to remain close to its original design and intention.

Additional Design Credits

Architect: Jeanne Davis / Davis Architecture

Builder: Victor Perez / VP Construction

Landscape: Jim Redman / Elements Landscape

Historic Flavor

laurenrillietdesign.com

davis-arch.com

Wojcicki Wisdom

Words by Sharon McDonnell

A leading American educator, journalist and mother, Esther Wojcicki calls it like she sees it. “The number one problem with children today is that too many have no problem-solving skills,” she asserts. “They’re catered to all the time.”

Esther, a champion of student-centered, experiential education, is the founder of Palo Alto High School’s Media Arts Program, the biggest high school journalism program in the U.S. “Journalism is a front-row seat on life,” she says. A teacher for 40 years, until 2020, Esther is also the co-founder of several education nonprofits. Author of How to Raise Successful People and Moonshots in Education, she speaks frankly about education and childrearing, logging travel to Dubai, India, Austria and South Korea.

Born on New York’s Lower East Side to Russian-Jewish immigrants, Esther grew up near Los Angeles in the San Fernando Valley. She married Stan Wojcicki, the former chairman of Stanford’s physics department, in 1961. Now 81, Esther is the mother of three accomplished daughters: Anne Wojcicki, the CEO of 23andMe (and the ex-wife of Google co-founder Sergey Brin), Susan Wojcicki, the CEO of YouTube and Janet Wojcicki, a UCSF professor of pediatrics.

Nicknamed the “Godmother of Silicon Valley” (Google was founded in Susan’s garage and home), Esther also has a fun-loving, irreverent side. She first ran into her husband-to-be, literally, while sliding down a staircase in a cardboard box in her dorm at UC Berkeley. She’s the sort of teacher whose students made a T-shirt showing a graphic of her stomping on the administration building—and another that said, “In Woj We Trust.”

It’s fair to say that Esther can always be trusted to provide thought-provoking insights.

Can you describe your child-rearing philosophy in a nutshell?
I have a five-concept model: trust, respect, independence, collaboration and kindness. Parents should encourage their children to be independent, self-starting and empowered. I sent Susan and Janet to the store next door to buy bread alone at age five and four when we lived in Geneva, when Stan worked at CERN. If kids get whatever they want, they never struggle or understand the real value of pursuing something, and don’t develop their creativity and grit.

“Grit” is important to you. Why?
Call it drive, ferocious determination, resilience and passion, with a dose of self-control and patience: grit helps develop coping and problem-solving skills for the rest of your life. A study of the top 35 Fortune 500 companies found that 57% were founded or co-founded by an immigrant or the child of an immigrant. Adversity can build automatic grit—either you succumb to your circumstances or you fight tooth and nail to overcome them, which makes us stronger. The silver lining of poverty is grit…you have no choice but to use your creativity. I’m not arguing for imposing trauma or suffering on children, of course. But grit is a teachable skill.

How?
Kids should be part of the family team and help out, not just expect the parents to do everything for them. I strongly suggest all teens get jobs, no matter the family income. There is no better way to learn how the real world works. My daughters were called the “lemon girls” since they sold lemons from a neighbor’s tree as kids, babysat and worked at a restaurant. I started working at 14 at a weekly newspaper in Sunland-Tujunga. If we give children the opportunity to figure things out in high school on a regular basis, they will be ready for the adult world.

What’s your view on “helicopter parenting?”
I call it “snowplow parenting,” clearing all obstacles in their way. It doesn’t teach kids that setbacks are a necessary part of life, they grow up terrified to take risks, and in the work world, expect everything to be handed to them and can’t handle criticism. Overprotective parenting has resulted in a generation of kids who don’t know how to do anything for themselves, let alone overcome fears, challenges and failures. You learn from your failures and develop a sense of mastery. Learning comes when students are willing to take risks.

Travel and education were your top priorities when you raised your children. Can you explain?
Seeing the world is the best education children can have, beyond temporary jobs. It broadens their thinking about what’s possible in this world. My daughters’ travels as teenagers and adults taught them a lot about culture. When Anne took the Trans-Siberian Express through Russia and visited my mother’s hometown in Siberia, I didn’t hear from her for months. Susan lived in India for a year after college. When Janet was teaching social anthropology in Johannesburg, she took me to a clinic in Soweto, where I met many of the young mothers there. Meeting someone’s mother is a great honor in their culture, so the women prepared a yummy feast for me. It was the most powerful Mother’s Day I ever had!

How should parents view their children?
See your child as an individual with his or her own opinions, interests and purposes. Encourage them to pursue their fascinations, set their own goals and be an expert in something, which makes them feel good about themselves. Parents tend to define goals for their children solely in terms of their own interests and experience—and project their fears and anxieties onto their children, especially when it comes to less familiar career and life choices.

How did your high school journalism program operate?
I spent 36 years running my classroom as if it was a professional newsroom. For our many student publications, students were tasked with real-world responsibilities and experienced real-world consequences. They sold ads in downtown Palo Alto at the start of each semester, came up with story ideas, decided who to assign, and, if they missed the printer’s deadline, had to pay a penalty and fundraise to do so. They chose topics like student depression, the Parkland school shooting in Florida, poor teacher performance. I was their “guide on the side,” not a “sage on the stage.”

Do you have a favorite quote?
“The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be ignited.” —Plutarch

learn more

moonshotsedu.com
raisesuccessfulpeople.com

Fresh Direction: Rococo & Taupe

Words by Sophia Markoulakis

Keith Quiggins doesn’t like the word “trend” when referring to interior design. “I prefer the term ‘direction’ because trend tells me, ‘OK, this is going to be here for a hot minute,’” he explains. “Direction infers that this is where design is going.” Keith, owner of the luxury kitchen and bath design firm Rococo & Taupe, had just returned from Paris Design Week when we chatted, and since it takes a couple of years for European design trends to make their way here, he should know how the future looks.

Keith stresses that international shows like Paris Design Week and Milan’s Salone del Mobile are intentionally avant and meant to push boundaries. His Menlo Park showroom on Santa Cruz Avenue is where he captures his stylistic impressions through kitchen vignettes and samples of the latest appliances, cabinet hardware, plumbing fixtures and surface materials. Undoubtedly, his clients depend on him to prognosticate design thinking. “When you have a showroom, you have to keep your finger on the pulse of what people are asking for and still be inspirational. People will walk in and say, ‘Oh my, I’ve never seen this anywhere else,’ and I’ll say, ‘Well, yes, because I just saw it two months ago in Milan.’”

When Keith opened his kitchen and bath showroom almost 10 years ago, he picked Menlo Park, in part because of its proximity to high-end homes and construction projects, and he notes that 75% percent of his clientele reside within a five-mile radius of the showroom. Being a Mountain View resident, he could have established his business farther south in Saratoga, but admits that Menlo Park ultimately won out simply because there were no other design showrooms on the street at the time. Today, he is a founding member of the Menlo Park Design District, a one-stop community of over 20 downtown shops, galleries and designers.

In June, Keith is planning a 10-year anniversary party for his showroom, but the milestone is just the latest for this designer who has worked in the home design and construction field for more than 30 years. “We do whole-house remodels, but our main focus with the showroom is kitchens and baths—the two rooms that people think are the most important in the house.” Since the pandemic, Keith points to another growing category: cabinetry for home offices, entertainment centers and wine rooms. “Outdoor kitchens have also been very popular as people continue to split their time between work and home,” he adds. “I’ve done more outdoor kitchens in the last two years than I did in the previous seven.”

The name Rococo & Taupe refers to Keith’s aptitude for working with a wide range of styles. “I display multiple styles in the showroom, and I wanted a name that speaks to that. Rococo references the 18th-century ornate French style and taupe is a very modern and versatile color. Many people come in and say, ‘I totally get it.’”

As an avid cook, Keith is drawn to kitchen design. He switches up the display kitchens in his showroom about once a year and each reflects his talent for blending high-end materials and appliances with efficient workspaces that are meant to be used and not just admired. One of his favorite workhorses in the kitchen is a galley sink that functions not only for cleanup but also for prep work. For cooking, he’s not a fan of double ovens, preferring convection and steam instead. “There’s nothing better for a loaf of French bread than a minute or two in a steam oven to freshen up its crust,” he quips.

Keith is also very excited about invisible cooktops powered by induction technology. Installed underneath a solid surface such as granite, you’d never know a cooktop was there until you place your pan on that exact spot and start cooking. “It creates a cohesive, easy-to-clean surface and maximizes counter space,” he says.
The showroom also presents bathroom vignettes as luxe and modern as their kitchen counterparts. “The primary bath is an oasis away from the kids,” Keith observes.

According to a recent Pinterest Predicts report, oversized walk-in spa-like showers are in and built-in bathtubs are out. Keith concurs and says, “I still do a lot of freestanding tubs, but I’ve taken out more drop-in tubs than I’ve ever put in.” He explains that he’s also doing a lot of bathrooms that reflect the client’s desire to age in place. “Often, we’ll drop the floor in a shower, so there’s a curbless entry and add a bench inside,” he says. “We also do an extra-deep medicine cabinet with hidden outlets inside for personal care appliances.”

What you won’t see in Keith’s showroom are any white kitchen vignettes. He admits that it can be a little risky in his line of work to forgo the ever-popular white Shaker look, but it’s not what he does. “I want to create spaces that are unique while addressing the client’s aesthetic,” he says. Right now, he’s drawn to rich, saturated colors like terra cotta, wine, emerald green and navy blue that play nicely with warm neutrals like, well, taupe. The colors work really well with highly-veined statement slabs that are not only installed on countertops but also function as a backsplash. As Keith sums up, “Our clients don’t want to come in here and see anything that they might have seen when they were running through Home Depot looking for a toilet lever.”

Woodside’s Independence Hall

Words by Dylan Lanier

At first glance, Woodside’s Independence Hall appears quaint yet unremarkable. With simple white panels and a rustic blue door, the building reveals little indication of its rich history. Built in 1884, the structure emerged as the Woodside community began to rapidly grow. Where sawmills once flourished, small cattle ranches, farms and vineyards took their place—as did wealthy families from San Francisco who constructed country estates in the area. Independence Hall was originally erected a ways down from its current Woodside Avenue location. It also spent nearly eight decades at Albion Avenue. During its Prohibition days as a dance hall, the building was closed for “rowdiness.” Luckily, 23 years later, it regained respectability and reopened as Scout Hall. In 1972, the land beneath the property sold and the building moved back to its original location. Finally, in 1991, it moved next to Town Hall, where it currently stands after a complete restoration. Today, the site is used for town meetings and events, providing room for lectures and serving as the starting point for Woodside’s annual Fun Run and May Day Parade. Providing Woodside residents with an enduring public space to gather and connect, Independence Hall remains a shining example of the Peninsula’s many hidden historical gems.

The Beat on Your Eats: Seafood

Words by Johanna Harlow

the sea by alexander’s steakhouse

Palo Alto

A fine dining destination like The Sea by Alexander’s Steakhouse is sure to make a splash with gourmets. You might be tempted to load up on the complimentary (and highly-addicting) lobster biscuits, but pace yourself. The seared scallops, a favorite among diners, is served with a striking kabocha-ginger velouté sauce and crowned with confit chestnuts and microgreens. The Lobster Rocks with almond purée, truffle and mitsuba also rate high on the list. And you can expect everything from the miso-marinated black cod to the steamed abalone to come delightfully plated—in fact, photos of past delicacies are exhibited on the walls much like abstract art. 4269 West El Camino Real. Open Tuesday to Sunday.

kincaid’s fish, chop & steakhouse

Burlingame

Don’t be crabby… Order the lobster at Kincaid’s, a classy locale with ample windows overlooking the Bay. Be it blended into a bisque with crème fraîche and fresh herbs or served as tails alongside fingerling potatoes, you’re sure to enjoy your carefully-prepared crustacean. There’s also the coconut shrimp and New England clam chowder to consider. Can’t decide between entrees? Order more than one for the halibut. Finish off your meal with a smooth scotch or whiskey flight. 60 Bay View Place. Open daily.

seapot

San Mateo

Every experiential diner should have San Mateo’s Seapot on their foodie bucket list. Those unfamiliar with the concept of hotpot might be surprised to find a stovetop built into their table. It’s the diner’s happy job to select which ingredients go into the soup stock simmering before them. Not sure where to start? Not to worry, Seapot has taken this concept a step further by adding a conveyor belt to the mix. Fresh ingredients—from king crab legs to abalone, enoki mushrooms to bok choi—parade past your booth. So grab whatever strikes your fancy. 1952 South El Camino Real. Open daily.

Wines by the Glass

Words by Johanna Harlow

Truth: Pondering the wall of wine at the store can be a daunting endeavor. What the heck makes a liquid “dry?” What gives it “legs” and “body?” How is a merlot different from a malbec? What separates syrah from sangiovese? After squinting at poetic descriptions of tasting notes, many call it a day and grab the closest bottle with an eye-catching label.

“The industry has gotten more over-the-top confusing over the last couple of decades,” recognizes Joe Welch, co-founder of In Good Taste Wines. “There are many different wines out there: thousands of labels, thousands of varietals. That’s a scary thing!”

But it doesn’t have to be. “We want to be a gatekeeper for the industry, to help usher in new customers,” explains Joe, who grew up in Palo Alto. It’s why In Good Taste delivers tasting flights with six to eight single-glass servings of first-class wine to your doorstep. The objective? To help you “find what you love—and feel more confident doing it!” Joe summarizes.

 

The company’s mission statement, “Making wine more accessible and less intimidating for the everyday drinker,” speaks to this emphasis on approachability. As does their selection of varietals. “We want the wine to be as true to the region and the grape as possible,” Joe states. “Because then you’ll know, ‘Do I like a Napa merlot? Yes or no?’ The days of opening a full bottle of wine only to realize you don’t love it are over.”

In Good Taste takes into account both vintner and vineyard. “I think almost every wine has a story—whether it’s who made it or where it’s from,” Joe muses. “It is such a personal product and such an emotional product… Very often you can find some really fun tidbits or information to share with people.” He pauses, then adds, “What we try not to do is force a story on a wine that doesn’t have a story. Sometimes, a wine’s just a good wine!”

Joe’s own story is quite the tale. After graduating from Palo Alto’s Gunn High School, Joe spent two years in the military. While working at Twitter, he completed his education at Stanford—then aided early-days DoorDash in launching its services across major cities including San Diego, Seattle and Toronto. “It was the Wild West of food delivery,” he recalls. Following that, he contributed to the exploration of “the final frontier” at SpaceX.

But what next? “I knew I’d bopped around a bunch, so I had to pick my next move carefully,” Joe relays. “You can’t just keep jumping around forever.” Wine seemed a natural fit. “I’d been around wine my whole life,” he says, recounting early memories of his dad and grandpa buying vineyard grapes and making wine in their basement—or the bathtub. “Wherever they could,” he laughs.

Joe also recognized wine’s enduring market opportunity. “Pretty much every alcohol drinker eventually moves towards wine as they get older,” he remarks. “Nobody opens up White Claw for dinner. Wine’s been part of society for thousands of years. It’s not going anywhere!”

To cement the concept, he joined forces with Los Altos native and fellow Gunn High alum Zach Feinberg. “We knew each other from high school and we were friendly, but we weren’t super close—which actually really helped from a founder relationship. It’s dicey starting a company with your best friend.” The two had also worked alongside each other at DoorDash. “I knew he wouldn’t quit,” notes Joe. “I knew he was competitive. And he knew the same thing about me.”

After testing out a monthly consumer subscription model, the partners pivoted to selling to hotels. Zach’s knack for networking came in handy. He’d attend conferences—then beeline it for the bar, chatting with everyone in line. And if he didn’t make the connections he was hoping for… “He would walk to the bathroom, dump his drink out and then get back in line,” Joe chuckles.

Even so, the first three years were admittedly tough. And then the pandemic hit. With the shutdown of the hospitality industry, the partners decided to return to the consumer model, offering one-time orders “to keep the lights on” until the chaos blew over.

The concept exploded. “It was kind of right place, right time, right product. People were looking for experiences at home and we sold tasting flights of wine,” Joe explains. They were also early to the virtual tasting game, gaining fast recognition as an industry leader. “I think our record was 12,000 virtual tastings in one month,” Joe marvels. They created a wildly popular wine advent calendar for the holiday season to close their banner year.

Today, In Good Taste partners with award-winning winemakers Matt Smith and Neely Ashley to source wine from well-known regions both domestic and abroad. “We tried to craft each brand around a style of customer or a style of wine,” Joe says, explaining that their Unprecedented line delves into regional Northern California wines. “You’ll find your big, bold Napa cabs, your buttery chardonnays, your bigger merlots,” he informs. Then there’s Pluma (Spanish for “feather”). “There’s gonna be zero sugar in any of those. All really dry, really fresh summer wines.” And don’t forget the Wild Child selections. “It’s somebody who wants a little bit more adventure, who wants to get off the beaten path,” says Joe, who identifies most with this category. In fact, Joe served a Wild Child vermentino and nerello cappuccino at his wedding this past year.

Reflecting on fond memories at In Good Taste, Joe pinpoints the little moments. “It’s at the end of a long day at the warehouse,” he describes. “You’re tired. You’re not drinking out of a fancy glass. You’re probably finding a plastic cup. And you’re just sitting around talking about what you just did for the last eight hours—reconnecting, relaxing. For me, that is heaven.”

Catch a Flight

ingoodtaste.com

Oodles of Noodles

Words by Johanna Harlow

Ramen’s reign as the Bay Area’s Japanese noodle of choice will go unchallenged no longer. Enter udon—ramen’s plumper, chewier counterpart. “Udon has been the stepsister to ramen,” chuckles noodle virtuoso Jerome Ito. “Now, udon is starting to shine more and people are learning more about it.”

Jerome explains that traditionally, both styles feature signature dashi broths. “Ramen, you’re getting these rich, thick flavorful broths—which are great, but on a daily basis, they’re very heavy,” he says. “Udon has always been a little more subtle.”

And he should know. As founder and executive chef of Taro San Japanese Noodle Bar in Palo Alto, Jerome and his team press, stretch and cut long slabs of dough through a Shinuchi noodle machine as hungry guests watch on. From the pot, a sensuous swirl of cooked noodles find their way into hot brothy baths or come to rest on mats with cold broth served on the side. No naked noodles here, each dish comes accessorized with toppings—ribeye beef or seared duck breast, daikon radish and tempura flakes.

By no means a newcomer to the culinary scene, Jerome previously worked as head sushi chef at Mountain View’s Bushido Izakaya, then at Google, overseeing a team of 60. He also founded Go Fish Poke while his wife was pregnant with their first child. Five locations, three kids and five years later, Jerome began to noodle on another concept.

Since the beginning, the women in Jerome’s life have played pivotal roles in shaping this chef’s culinary career. “Funny enough, I was inspired because of a lack of Japanese cooking,” he recounts of his childhood. “My mom’s very much, ‘Get it done and bang this meal out.’ If you’ve seen Rachael Ray’s 30-Minute Meals, that’s her… I grew up on a lot of spaghetti.” As a fourth-generation Japanese-American, Jerome was hungry to embrace his culinary heritage.

But really, it’s Linh Tran-Ito—his encouraging foodie wife—whom he credits most for his success. “She’s my tester,” he relays. It was Linh who set the idea for Taro San in motion after gifting her husband a couple’s udon-making class with Japanese chef and author Sonoko Sakai for Father’s Day. That experience (and his young daughter’s voracious appetite for the world’s most slurpable dish) prompted travels to Singapore and Japan to train at the Yamato Noodle School.

His entire family flew out to support him. After Jerome wrapped up class each day, his mother watched the kids while he and Linh set out to conduct noodle research at local restaurants. The two paid close attention to dining room aesthetics, scribbled field notes on dishes and snapped plenty of pictures. “We ordered a lot… The whole table would just be bowls of udon!” Jerome laughs. And to cover the most territory possible, they never returned to the same place twice. “When we travel, it’s gonna be the last time we ever eat there,” he affirms.

After returning to the States (with eight suitcases full of Japanese dishware and cookware), Jerome and Linh began fleshing out the menu. Of the entire process, Jerome singles out this stage as his favorite. “It was the countless nights of testing recipes for Taro San with my wife,” he nostalgically recalls of the after-hour sessions in the Go Fish Poke kitchen. “She was the biggest critic and support for developing the entire menu top to bottom.”

When Jerome secured a location at Stanford Shopping Center, the dream crystallized into reality. He and Linh designed a minimalistic yet sophisticated Japanese-Scandinavian interior for the restaurant—the kind of space that engages from the front entrance mural depicting Tokyo and Osaka landmarks to the eye-catching wood-slat design on the back wall. Fresh flowers adorn every table.

When the restaurant opened its doors at the beginning of 2019, Jerome focused more on traditional udon. However, his culinary curiosity began to spin out dishes with innovative twists. “How thin can I make the noodles?” Jerome asked himself. “How thick?” “Why do I have to stick to such traditional broths?” “Why can’t I do ramen broths with udon noodles?” “Can I make a less-heavy ramen broth?”

Beside typical udon noodles, Taro San offers thinner, more delicate tsukemen-style noodles as well as hearty, hand-cut pasta similar to inch-thick Italian pappardelle. “We’re using all Japanese ingredients and we’re still using very traditional Japanese techniques—but we’re just going outside the box,” the chef emphasizes. Or, perhaps more fittingly, outside the bowl.

This attention to quality has spurred Jerome to serve thinner noodles with cold dipping broths on the side (like in both the duck tsuke and zaru udon). Heat and an extended time in broth cause sogginess, particularly with the tsukemen style. “It’s a very delicate noodle,” he explains. “It breaks apart very fast.”

Don’t even get Jerome started on the inferior quality of frozen udon. “Once you try fresh udon, it’s like, ‘Whoa! Totally different game!’ You get the chewiness, you know?” For this reason, Jerome also sells uncooked noodles for customers to bring to their own kitchens. “My kids are pretty particular about their udon,” Jerome smiles. “My daughter says, ‘No, I don’t want the store-bought dry one.’ I’m like, ‘Oh my goodness, I’ve created a monster!’”

A maestro with textures, Jerome composes dishes for your tongue to ponder. Take the comforting tori udon, which contrasts attention-grabbing, crispy chicharon with the softer textures of tender chicken breast and thigh, chewy noodles and cooked spinach. Jerome also takes great care with his vegetarian California rolls, mimicking the texture of crab through trumpet mushrooms and adding the perfect cucumber crunch.

Perhaps most impressive is his truffle udon. The dish marries thick, hand-cut noodles with a medley of mushrooms, each with their own subtle differences in flavor and consistency. Slivers of coveted truffle are joined by shiitake, eryngii (king oyster mushroom) and wood-ear as well as petite clusters of shimeji and enoki. The creamy sauce makes it decadent without sitting heavy in the stomach.

Perpetually cooking up ideas, Jerome, the family man and restaurateur, will continue to put remarkable food on the table. “What makes chefs amazing is their creativity! Otherwise food would be very boring and one-dimensional,” Jerome observes. “Let’s push the limits!”

Get to slurping

tarosanudon.com

Getaway: Bridge to Benicia

Words by Sharon McDonnell

What’s the previous capital of California and former home to the world’s largest ferry? It’s the state’s third oldest city with a quirky camel-related history to boot. Here’s one more hint: With one of the Bay Area’s biggest artist communities, this town also boasts a baker transplanted from The French Laundry.

Time’s up: It’s Benicia, a small waterfront town of 28,000 on the Carquinez Strait across the bridge from Martinez, a mile off Interstate 680, where history and art collide. Founded in 1847 on land owned by General Mariano Vallejo, and named for his wife’s middle name (it was supposed to be Francisca, her first name, but Yerba Buena’s decision to rename itself San Francisco scuttled that plan), Benicia was incorporated in 1850. Thanks to its location on the main water route from San Francisco to the gold fields past Sacramento, the town grew rapidly in the 1850s into a rowdy port packed with saloons.

Strategically located between both San Pablo Bay and Suisun Bay, Benicia became a military outpost. But when the Army base closed in the 1960s, its Arsenal was sold to the city and reborn as affordable artist studios.
The camels? Dozens of camels were employed by the government to patrol and deliver mail in the Southwest, especially the deserts of Arizona and New Mexico. The US Army camel corps’ last animals were auctioned off in 1864 in the buildings where the Benicia Historical Museum stands today.

What to Do

Downtown Benicia’s historic district features about a mile of specialty shops, restaurants and galleries on and off First Street, plus charming Victorian homes and cottages. And public art, like the sculpture of Neptune’s Daughter—a girl holding a pelican—on the shore walk. First Street ends with a palm tree-lined promenade on the strait, marked by benches, a fishing pier and the Southern Pacific Railroad depot, a mustard-colored building now home to the Visitor Center, where the train ferry once docked.

Pick up a historic walking tour brochure here, which includes mid-19th-century houses and the State Capitol, a stately brick building used when Benicia was the capital of California. Also, take in the 27 colorful ceramic sidewalk tiles, created by local artist Guillermo Granizo, that depict elements in Benicia’s history, like the Solano, the world’s largest ferry, which first hauled the Transcontinental Railroad across the strait in 1879 to Port Costa (and carried trains until 1930), and Jack London, who began writing here.

Galleries include the Art Glass Gallery, primarily featuring work by owners Peter Stucky and Dana Rottler, who were Palo Alto High School teaching assistants in its glass art program; the Plein Air Gallery, an artists’ co-op of landscape painters; and the 621 Gallery, displaying abstracts and landscapes by local artists. Once home to 34 antiques shops, Benicia now has just a few left. Steffen Collection features mostly china and Depression-era glassware sets, 200-year-old books and oak armoires, while Antiques on Main has lots of military memorabilia and jewelry.

In the Arsenal District, about a mile east of First Street, Arts Benicia holds exhibits, art classes and artist talks year-round in a majestic white parquet-floored 1860 mansion, once the Army commander’s residence. For example, artist Hampton Deck, who studied the craft of marbled paper in Istanbul, has taught classes in the nearby Arsenal building—which also houses artist live-work studios. Arts Benicia hosts Open Studios in June.

Nearby, the Benicia Historical Museum on Camel Road, located in four 1850s redstone barns that housed the camels, tells the history of Benicia and hosts concerts and talks. Beloved by Victorian home owners, Bradbury & Bradbury—which sells hand-printed wallpapers in Victorian, Arts & Crafts and Art Deco styles—stopped offering tours of its Arsenal District factory but has an online shop at bradbury.com.

Where to Eat

Amore Bistrot, located at the Inn at Benicia Bay and owned by a couple from Milan, serves Italian specialties like lasagna pesto and gnocchi with gorgonzola sauce. On Thursdays and Saturdays, Happy Hour stars wine or an aperitivo with a small plate. At One House Bakery, head baker Hannalee Pervan, who baked bread for The French Laundry and worked at Thomas Keller’s Bouchon Bakery on the pastry and bread teams, serves yummy croissants, bread loaves and sandwiches (like chicken brie arugula pesto on ciabatta) using whole-grain flours and no artificial stabilizers.

Bella Siena, located right on the water, serves Italian-American specialties like saffron pappardelle with shrimp, artichoke hearts, mushrooms and tomatoes in a shrimp bisque sauce and veal scaloppini in a lemon caper white wine sauce. First Street Taphouse, Mare Island Brewery’s full-service restaurant, serves a healthy NorCal twist on jambalaya as a special: shrimp, garlic sausage and microgreens in a citrusy vinaigrette. For seafood in a onetime sea captain’s home on the water, Sailor Jack’s is the spot for flash-fried tender oysters with remoulade sauce or pan-seared halibut. There’s outdoor tented seating in warm weather, and occasional winemaker and beermaker dinners off-season.

Extend Your Stay

Inn at Benicia Bay, located in an 1854 Victorian house with a newer addition and only a half-block from the marina, has a lovely parlor packed with dozens of books plus coffee, chocolates and tons of magazines and brochures about Benicia. An Italian breakfast is included, featuring bomboletti (mini beignets with Nutella or cream fillings) and a cornetto with jam, plus yogurt with granola and Italian coffee.

Shorelight Inn is located right on the rock-lined shore walk, and its deck and two balcony suites offer lovely water views. Striking stained-glass in the Union Hotel, built in 1880, features one of a bear (after the Bear Revolt, when California briefly declared its independence from Mexico) and a callout to 1853-1854, when Benicia was the state capital.

Day by the Bay

visitbenicia.org

Automotive Artist

Words by Kate Daly

Every month, James Caldwell takes his “current fun car” for a short spin to Cars & Coffee, an event he attends at Coffeebar in Menlo Park so he can schmooze with fellow car lovers. He describes his silver replica of a Porsche 550 Spyder as “simple” and “accurately depicted,” except that it’s fashioned from fiberglass instead of having a hand-formed aluminum body.

The convertible is a two-seater with just enough room for James’ gear, a Sigma fpL mirrorless digital camera. Yes, he’s there to talk shop with other collectors, but he’s also there to capture images and find clients for his automotive portraits business. One clue: the paint job on his Porsche features his website, JamesArtist.com, and his logo that’s inspired by an enamel hood ornament.

The car motif carries into the contemporary house he designed for his family in West Menlo Park. Large paintings of classics hang on the walls including comedian Jerry Seinfeld’s black Porsche 993 GT2. James spotted the car at a Porsche event, took a bunch of photos and went on to make a portrait.

James caught another famous TV personality’s eye with what he calls his “self-promoting” tote bag. Walking around the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, Jay Leno recognized the yellow Duesenberg on the bag and invited James to appear on Jay Leno’s Garage. James bundled up a handful of his 30”x40” canvases to display during the segment, and the host enthused over what great gifts they would make. That was nine years ago, and James is still grateful for receiving such positive publicity from a credible source and “big fan.”

James has exhibited his work in New York and Miami, but given that shipping large art can be a logistical challenge, he prefers driving to locations such as Las Vegas and the Monterey Peninsula to showcase his talent. He has had a booth at the Pebble Beach Concours for about 10 years, and since 2014 has created the poster that VIPs receive at the Concorso Italiano during Monterey Car Week. Last year’s poster was particularly popular: a stylized close-up of the Ferrari horse emblem.

How did the 2000 industrial design graduate from the Rhode Island School of Design end up painting cars? James credits his father, architect and painter Jim Caldwell of Woodside. (Note: They are both named after James’ grandfather, James Emott Caldwell, who owned Caldwell’s General Store, the predecessor to Roberts Market in Woodside.)

“I’ve always been interested in drawing and painting,” explains James, “and my dad was interested in cars; he had stories about his first cars driving across the country and Europe.”

After college, James was doing welding and fabrication at a vintage race car shop in Redwood City when his father asked him to take an evening art class at Stanford to critique the father’s teaching technique. “Because we worked together so well,” James says his father also brought him into the architectural side of the business to make drafts on computer as opposed to by hand. When his father encouraged him to do a joint painting exhibition, James remembers, “I chose cars.”

That was in 2007, and cars have been James’ artistic focus ever since, except for designing his house with his father’s input. Modern furnishings complement his automotive portraits and his father’s landscape paintings decorating the walls. The neatness of James’ residence dramatically contrasts with his studio, a messy space in Redwood City where he spreads out his acrylics to work on multiple canvases at the same time. He uploads his photographs onto a computer monitor set up next to his easel so he can zoom in on the details.

“I’m very picky about the general proportions,” he says, “but the smaller details I choose.” James ticks off examples: He never paints every spoke in a wheel, a headlight in the foreground has more detail than one towards the back and his backgrounds tend to look looser and more impressionistic.


When he paints figures, they are intentionally vague. The one time James painted a portrait of the owner was for a memorial piece honoring Martin Swig, a Bay Area legend known for collecting vintage cars and founding the California Mille, the 1,000-mile classic car tour. James especially enjoys the commission experience. After the owner picks out a setting with a personal connection, “In the best-case scenario I get to ride in the passenger seat,” he grins, “and then choose the time of day that brings out the best reflection.”

Lately, James has applied a deeper focus to photography. “I feel like the photograph itself can be the art, whereas before it was the reference for my art,” he shares. He’s exploring printing out large photographs on metal, which would drop the purchase price point down from the thousands into the hundreds. For a man whose first car was a Honda Del Sol, James’ taste and craft continue to evolve because he’s clearly, pun intended, driven. “I really love the car world,” he affirms. “It’s not just artistic—it’s exciting to just be a part of it.”

Warm Welcome: YogaSix

Words by Sheryl Nonnenberg

Mention the word “yoga” and it may bring to mind young, thin and incredibly agile people doing outrageous configurations with their bodies. Or perhaps a wise sage sitting cross-legged on the floor in hours of seated, still meditation. Yoga has come a long way, baby, and is no longer just in the realm of the flexible or devout. Which is perfectly fine with Audrey Ryder and Toni King, owners of the newly-opened YogaSix studio at the Stanford Shopping Center.

Highly-regarded fitness professionals, Audrey and Toni are also lifelong athletes. Audrey rowed for Stanford and has been a distance swimmer as well as a springboard and platform diver. In addition to being a TRX and swimming instructor, Toni holds a third-degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. Both women are certified personal trainers and run their own concierge corporate fitness and private training company, Tonik Fitness. With the onset of the pandemic, demand for their services exploded. So what made them want to take on the challenge of owning a yoga studio, almost always a high-risk business venture?

“It’s our passion,” explains Audrey, “and we wanted to create a community.” Both women began practicing yoga as a way to deal with the inevitable stress and damage caused by years of running and rowing. They first practiced at home, using online videos and then began to realize they were incorporating aspects of yoga (movement with breath) into their own teaching. Audrey noticed how yoga could be infused into her swim classes. “Yoga is a huge body of knowledge, tradition and work,” she observes. “There is a crossover between it and many sports.”

Both women became certified as yoga instructors and began to think seriously about opening their own studio. They decided to find a franchise opportunity that would allow them to teach but not have to worry about the myriad administrative details required. When Audrey and Toni learned about Xponential Fitness, a San Diego-based global franchise group of boutique fitness brands, they were attracted by YogaSix’s “not elitist, not exclusive” approach, which offers “a fresh perspective on one of the world’s oldest fitness practices.”

“YogaSix wants to create an environment that is energizing, empowering and fun,” notes Audrey, adding, “Everyone knows they probably should do yoga, but not everyone does—So why? What are the barriers?” She points out that the YogaSix philosophy centers around how everyone can find a place in one of the six types of classes: Yoga 101, Restore Yoga, Slow Flow, Hot, Power or Sculpt and Flow. Taught in heated rooms, there is no Sanskrit, no chanting or meditation, staples of most yoga studios. “We are not disrespecting the tradition,” Audrey explains. “We just want to make it accessible to everybody.”

Toni elaborates, “All of the class instructions are concise and clear, and every class is taught with the beginner in mind—all levels, even the power class.” Nodding, Audrey demonstrates by folding forward and touching her toes. “This is yoga,” she says, and then lifts to a halfway point. “But this is also yoga.” More advanced cues are layered on for the experienced yogi, but as Toni emphasizes, “People don’t feel bad if they are not doing the advanced version.” Students are encouraged to find their own level and instructors who resonate with them. Audrey laughs, “There are no gurus. The student is in charge and ultimately decides.” Toni agrees: “We teach people to trust themselves, to know their own bodies.” And what about the common yoga block: “I don’t do yoga because I am not flexible.” “Are you too dirty to bathe?” exclaims Toni rhetorically. “That’s why you do yoga!”


Audrey and Toni acknowledge that it was a big pivot to take on a new business at the beginning of a national health crisis. When their first studio opened in 2019 in Mountain View, they were mired in COVID restrictions. Luckily, online classes allowed them to maintain a full schedule and keep staff working. Their second studio in Oyster Point is located in a biomedical park and offers lots of private sessions for the employees there. The pair have licenses to build six studios in their territory, which runs from South San Francisco to Mountain View. “It took courage to change our lives in this way, but we learned a lot,” smiles Toni. “Sort of like getting an MBA.”

The Stanford location currently offers 29 classes per week, both in person and online, with plans to add more. When asked if there are discernable differences between the three studios, Audrey tactfully responds, “We love them all like our children.” Both women say they have noticed an increased desire for evening classes, probably due to the changing nature of how and when people work. In response, they will hold classes at 9:00PM. “People can practice and then go home and get into their pajamas,” laughs Toni.

Ultimately, Toni and Audrey hope to build a community at the Stanford studio where, as they describe, “You don’t have to fit in because everyone belongs.” Watching as yogis linger after class to introduce themselves to one another and share comments about their experience is the ultimate and best feedback. “It’s a chance to connect with your body,” affirms Audrey, “but what will make you stick with a practice? If you enjoy it, if it is fun and if you can be with people who also enjoy it.”

Choose your Practice

yogasix.com

Perfect Shot: A Moment of Reflection

As Palo Alto’s Ashly Edwards Huntington walked through Atherton after a recent splash of rain, she recalls being overwhelmed by how vibrant everything looked and how wonderful everything smelled. “And then…” she notes, “I stepped into this massive puddle! When I looked past my soaked jeans, I was pleasantly surprised by a gorgeous reflection of the sky.” Capturing this Perfect Shot reminded Ashly that even frustrating mishaps can lead to delightful discoveries.

Image by Ashly Edwards Huntington / @aehgallery

Calling all Shutterbugs: If you’ve captured a unique perspective of the Peninsula, we’d love to see your Perfect Shot. Email us at hello@punchmonthly.com to be considered for publication.

Diary of a Dog: Luna

Yes, I am genetically a dog but it’s my cat-like qualities that led me to my Menlo Park domicile. It’s been 11 years since I came to live with Paul and Jennifer, and their kids, Natalie, Rachel and Devin. Cat people to the core, Jennifer and her mother had seven felines between them, but middle-child Rachel was determined to add a canine into the pack. After identifying the 50 “most cat-like” breeds, Rachel carefully vetted and screened to reveal a single, mom-satisfying candidate: the Japanese Shiba Inu. Bred not to bark nor rudely sniff people’s crotches, Shibas are known for being small, smart, fiercely independent—and handsome. True to my quasi-feline heritage, I’m likely to greet you with studied indifference. If I deign to further our acquaintance, I may take a seat by your side. That’s your hint to scratch between my ears but don’t expect a return lick or a lean. I am quite content to stare out a window all day judging passersby and their more provincial pets. Aloof I may be, but I’m clearly adored. And you can credit my superior virtues for successfully opening a doggy door into a cat-obsessed home.

Calling All Dogs:
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