When I was 15 years old, I was visiting my mother, who had recently moved from Chicago—where she played in the Chicago Symphony—to Houston, where she was recruited to play the third chair of the Houston Symphony, one of the highest positions attained by a woman in those days.
Her apartment was in a development called Yorktown, not far from the famous Galleria, a world-class shopping center where I was to spend many a day over the course of my visits with her. The huge mall sported a skating rink, a never-ending number of stores and a great magazine newsstand, where I could pore over and learn from the hundreds of titles there.
One cold December day, when I was visiting from my prep school, Andover, in Massachusetts, we drove over to the shopping center, as my mom wanted to look at clothes being held for her at Neiman Marcus, her favorite place to shop. I always dreaded these store visits, as my mom felt close to certain sales ladies and would introduce me with great flair, which made me terribly uncomfortable.
After our two-hour binge there, we walked through the center a bit and encountered a large cart where they were selling decidedly-not Neiman Marcus jewelry. We browsed for a moment and my mom picked up a sterling silver Magen David, or Star of David, a common necklace worn by Jews. The star itself was surrounded by a circle with the points of the star touching the border. Smooth, with a brushed look, it was unique. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “This is perfect for you, Sloane!” and she bought it and placed it around my neck.
I had never worn anything on my body (I wasn’t allowed to wear the Omega watch my grandmother had given to me for my bar mitzvah until I was in college—prudent move.) and so at first this felt unusual, but somewhat surprisingly to me, I liked the fact that, even hidden underneath my shirt, I was expressing my Jewish pride. And it also meant a great deal that it was a gift from my mother.
About four months later, after playing frisbee on a large quadrangle lawn at Andover, I discovered that my star was gone. I found this terribly distressing since the piece already felt so special to me. It was an act of unapologetic pride that I wore it in the common bathrooms that we had at school.
Since it was evening when I discovered the star missing, at first light the next day, I was out on the grassy field, scanning the green blades incessantly for the silver flash of the necklace. I searched methodically, walking carefully back and forth. After an hour, starting to give up hope that I would ever see the Magen David again, I spotted it, tucked neatly into an upturned piece of turf. I was surprised and elated that I had found it, since I really didn’t feel there was much of a chance.
I was hesitant to put the necklace back on my neck, afraid to once again lose something so precious. Instead, I hid it away.
Back in Houston during the summer vacation, one day while my mom was at a rehearsal, I walked over to the Galleria and tried to find the jewelry cart. It was not there. I went into a nearby store and asked about it and was told that it was now on a different level, closer to the skating rink.
And, indeed, there it was. I was hoping that they would have the exact same star, but they didn’t. They did have one with a more rugged look that I immediately liked. A brighter silver with no circle, it seemed more masculine. The woman behind the counter brought it out and I carefully examined it, wondering if I would really wear it. I decided that it was made just for me. The kind woman carefully unclasped it and placed it around my neck.
Many years later, even after becoming a more-cautious adult, I still didn’t want to take any chances and continued to wear the replacement star. And it has been around my neck for almost 50 years.
The treasured star that my mom gave me rests carefully in a small box with several other sentimental items such as my dad’s watch and my grandfather’s cufflinks. I look at it from time to time and remember its happy history and the love my mom showed when she bought it for me. One day, I’ll hand it off to one of my sons along with its story, but in the meantime, its stand-in is doing its job just fine.
Drew Dunlevie talks music like a car mechanic talks shop—with the fluid familiarity of someone who knows his area of expertise intimately. When asked about favorite concerts, he can rattle off a list of bands with the ease of a technician ticking off auto parts… Which is why it should come as no shock that Dunlevie’s efforts to transform Menlo Park’s old Guild Theatre (alongside project partners Pete Briger and Thomas Layton) have met with success.
The three board members of Peninsula Arts Guild (the nonprofit behind the renovation with Dunlevie serving as president) have executed a full transformation. Where a dated indie movie theatre once resided, a state-of-the-art live music and performance space has taken up residence. The newly reimagined Guild Theatre featured its first performer (four-time Grammy winner Robert Glasper) at the end of February—and it’s been demonstrating out-of-the-starting-gate enthusiasm ever since, dishing out concerts at breakneck speed.
Image Courtesy of Paige K. Parsons
“We’ve had seven back-to-back shows,” says Drew, his voice notably hoarse when we catch up with him during a quiet moment in the Guild’s lobby. How will he spend his day off? Giving PUNCH a behind-the-scenes tour, of course.
As Drew moves from the lobby to the nearest staircase—passing a dozen or so vintage band poster illustrations and photographs of rockers—he shares his hopes that this new venue will advance the music scene south of San Francisco.
“I love the Fillmore. I love the Greek Theatre… But I don’t want to have to go there every time to see a show,” Drew remarks over his shoulder as he hikes the stairs. “I’d like to be able to just pop over to my local place and see a good show and be in bed at 11:15.” Weeknight shows and long drives followed by early workday meetings can be a punishing combo, the veteran concertgoer notes.
Drew says The Guild’s intent is to embrace a medley of genres. “We want to bring a wide variety of artists here, make a lot of people happy.” Though he considers himself to be an alt-country/Americana kind of guy (and a dabbler in hip-hop and metal), The Guild’s lineup features a range of bands, from Jazz Mafia to The Mother Hips (rock), from Midnight North (folk) to Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives (country/bluegrass).
“Being able to expose people to new things is kind of fun too,” Drew smiles.
But despite its new incarnation, The Guild won’t forget its movie palace past. In fact, just out the window behind Drew, a glimpse of neon letters from the old theatre’s restored blade sign comes into view. “My first apartment was right down the street,” he notes with nostalgia. “I’ve probably seen 35 movies here.”
Reviving the Venue
Step into the theatre’s regal balcony for another reminder of The Guild’s storied past. With glamour befitting its 1920s origins, the area features rows of red velvet chairs and an upscale bar with marble countertops, above which hangs a pair of vintage pendant lights.
But retro must mingle with modern, and beyond the mezzanine’s gilded railing hangs an armada of stage lights (each the size and shape of a cannon) and arching columns of loudspeakers. “People talk about jewel boxes,” Drew says. “This theatre’s full of jewels: the sound system, the lighting, the acoustics, the design—all of it is one of a kind.”
As you might imagine, getting here hasn’t been easy. When asked about renovations mid-project, Drew would dryly reply, “Well, I’m trying to build a $35 million state-of-the-art live performance venue on a landlocked parcel on a state highway in the middle of a pandemic with a supply chain disruption.” Even now, they’re still ironing out a few details, he admits—touches like adding signature cocktails and installing a seven-motor theatrical curtain (which was delayed)—but, “We’re changing the oil in mid-flight!”
Fortunately, he’s working with a strong team of players. In addition to commending his fellow visionaries Pete and Thomas, Drew credits general manager Tom Bailey with playing a crucial role in day-to-day operations. Chris Wasney of CAW Architects designed the building, and celebrity chef Michael Mina serves as executive chef. And, at the very core of the initiative, there’s the 36 founding donors who contributed over $1 million apiece to realize The Guild’s potential.
In a humble expression of gratitude, Drew draws on a sports metaphor. “Quarterbacks get way too much credit and too much blame,” he says. “I’m the quarterback, but you don’t win if you don’t have an offensive line and a great running back and a good defense. These people are all incredibly talented and know far more about this than I do.”
Dazzling Design
Then there’s The Guild’s rock star designer: Ken Fulk. Known for his exuberant interiors (think bold statement pieces like snakeskin-patterned bars, walls covered with large faux turtle shells and zebra-print stair runners), the renowned San Francisco-based designer and friend of Pete’s generously took on the project for free.
Drew recounts the initial design consultation: “When we started, we said, ‘Ken, on a scale of 1 to 10, you’re a 15. And that’s brilliant. You’re a supernova. But we want your 8… give us slightly toned down.” For the front of house, Ken reined himself in. Not so much in the rooms away from public view.
Ken’s flamboyant touch catches the eye as soon as you enter the off-limits back stairwell. A light fixture presents itself like a marching band of trumpets, bent in all directions. The vintage flowers on the wall sconces match the old movie theatre’s original decor. (“Ken Fulk’s team cut out a huge swatch of the wallpaper and then used the pattern as the inspiration,” Drew reveals.)
In the private space set aside for performers, Ken pulled out all the stops. As Drew flicks on the lights to the downstairs green room, he illuminates a lounge and kitchenette with deep peacock-green walls. There’s a crushed velvet couch and a tiger print rug (with matching pillows). Snakes undulate along the wallpaper in one of the dressing rooms. Gold accents are everywhere—from the faucets to the electrical covers to the cabinet handles… even the fire extinguisher case is gilded.
Drew shares that their opening night singer couldn’t get enough of the space. “He said, ‘This place is crazy. I’m not going to my hotel. I’m going to stay here tonight!’”
Making Musical Moments
How does Drew make sure The Guild’s concerts hit the mark? “I mean, it’s a je ne sais quoi kind of thing. When you’re at a great show with one of your favorite bands, everything works. It’s easy to get a drink, you’re in a good spot or a comfortable chair, or you’re dancing on the floor in the front row—whatever it is, people have a different happy place at shows. We want everyone to find their happy place.”
Drew’s own happy place? “When you’re in a room with everybody who is there for the band, not chit-chatting in the back or whatever. They need this, they need that night.” This is a man who will always have bands on the brain (and not just because he’s wearing a Newport Folk Festival cap).
The conversation segues into one of Drew’s favorite music memories. It happened at Mezzanine SF when The Hold Steady started performing their song Constructive Summer. “It’s a blistering guitar riff and everybody’s singing along,” Drew recalls. And as front man Craig Finn belted the closing lines—“Every hand went up, every beer went up, every cocktail went up in unison as everybody’s singing that song. It’s like church. It’s a healing thing.”
Drew pauses, then adds, “I thought to myself, I have no musical talent other than consumption, but that’s how I could contribute one day. Maybe I could build a place and create moments like this.”
And so he has.
Over a three-week stretch of summer in 2019, Woodside’s Erin Gleeson and her family ventured out on a 2,500-mile culinary adventure—without leaving the state. The New York Times bestselling author, illustrator and photographer behind the The Forest Feast cookbook series decided it was time to go wheels up. “My first couple of books draw from cooking from a cabin in the woods and feeling inspired by California produce in my area,” she notes, “and I wanted to take that idea on the road but still within California.”
Originally from Sebastopol, Erin was living the life of a New York freelance food photographer when a new chapter prompted a move back to California in 2011. After settling with her husband into a little cabin on Skyline Boulevard, she started The Forest Feast, a blog showcasing simple, produce-based recipes influenced by her weekly farm box delivery. A collection of vegetarian cookbooks followed: The Forest Feast, The Forest Feast for Kids, The Forest Feast Gatherings and The Forest Feast Mediterranean. Erin’s newest entry, The Forest Feast California Road Trip, made its debut in April 2022.
With two young boys, Ezra and Max, in tow (and a baby on the way), Erin partnered with her husband Jonathan Prosnit to successfully pull off the ambitious excursion. “He’s really the mastermind behind the route and plans for strategic hikes and stops along the way,” she says. Erin focused on their accommodations, arranging a series of vacation rentals and overnights with family and friends. “I was looking for cabin-ish places, cabin-inspired dwellings. And architecturally, I was looking for some diversity.”
In Big Bear, it was an A-frame. In Big Sur, a Craftsman cabin. In all, Erin features 10 stops with backdrops ranging from the desert of Joshua Tree and the giant redwoods of the Mendocino Coast to the serene beaches of Santa Barbara, the mountains of Lake Tahoe and the stunning peaks of Yosemite National Park. With only culinary wanderlust as a guide, the point was to taste different things and capture flavors from restaurants, farms, wineries and ranches along the way. “It’s very much a personal journey of California,” Erin emphasizes. “It’s not meant to be all-encompassing, rather what we happened upon. And what we tasted informed the recipes that I made.”
For example, at a friend’s ranch near Santa Barbara, Erin’s family helped with the apricot harvest, which led to the creation of an apricot salsa. Visiting friends at Fly Girl Farm in Pescadero presented the opportunity for strawberry picking, and readers will find a strawberry caprese salad among the book’s 100 recipes.
Erin followed up that initial 2019 long-haul trip with a series of shorter side trips, adding in newborn daughter Winnie. And then, between juggling homeschooling and an infant, Erin wove together her signature mix of atmospheric photography, watercolor illustrations and enticing (and easy) recipes. “I pretty much did my work at nap time and after the kids went to bed, between 8 and 11PM,” Erin recounts. “I’m just grateful that I get to do what I love—that I get to blend art and food in a way that feels meaningful for me.”
What’s next for The Forest Feast? Erin shares that she’s pitching a vegetarian cooking show and developing a line of branded products, including mugs, art prints and table linens. “I see it all as an extension of my books,” she explains. “I hope it will inspire people to be creative at home—and not only in the way that they cook.”
Plus, there’s so much more of California that Erin wants to explore. “It’s just so geographically and culturally diverse,” she observes, “and what I present is only the tip of the iceberg.” Keep reading for a sampling of Erin’s California road trip-inspired recipes.
To mark the 110th anniversary of the Girl Scouts in 2022, stop by the Lou Henry Hoover Girl Scout House, a cabin-like headquarters just a stone’s throw from the Palo Alto Junior Museum & Zoo. Named for the same luminary who established the West Coast’s first troop in Palo Alto, this meeting house is the oldest in continuous use nationally. Lou Henry Hoover might be best known as first lady to our 31st president Herbert Hoover, but she was also a Girl Scout troop leader, an ardent camper and hiker, president of the National Council of Girl Scouts, a physical fitness advocate for women and, in her early years, a Stanford student (the only female studying geology on campus at the time). After donating $500 for the construction of the Scout house, Lou dedicated it in 1926. Renowned Palo Alto architect Birge Clark drew the plans for the structure, but with a mind for design, Lou often collaborated with the architects she hired, also bringing her vision to the Hoover family home on the Stanford campus. Within the headquarters, stonemasons crafted a prominent fireplace using sandstone salvaged from one of Stanford’s Palm Drive arches after its collapse in the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. In the entry hall, a display case exhibits a few of Lou’s personal notebooks and early photographs. If Lou were around today, she’d take pride in knowing that the Girl Scouts of Palo Alto have grown 64 troops strong—many of which still meet in Lou’s house.
Stepping off the plane into the high-desert landscape of Santa Fe, I am greeted by lights from pueblo-style homes dotting the distant landscape. The faint smell of New Mexican piñon (pine nut) wood fires hangs in the air as I set a course for the heart of town, Santa Fe Plaza. For travelers coming from the Peninsula (fly direct to Albuquerque followed by an hour drive or book connecting flights from San Francisco or San Jose), Santa Fe offers adventurers a centuries-old culture that celebrates art, architecture and food.
To get the inside scoop, I connected with Hillsborough transplant and art history buff Heather Weir, who traveled to Santa Fe for years until she and her husband eventually made it home. “Santa Fe isn’t like the Southwest. It feels like an international city,” describes Heather. “It has 400 years of Spanish influence and 1,000 years of indigenous culture. People come from all over the world for the art and art festivals.”
Courtesy of La Fonda on the Plaza
Where to Stay
Located right on Santa Fe Plaza, La Fonda on the Plaza is the perfect jumping-off place to explore the city on foot with easy access to museums, galleries and restaurants. As I wander the hotel halls that are chock-full of museum-quality art, I feel as though I have stepped back in time. The hotel marks its 100th anniversary this year, but an inn has been located on this site for 400 years throughout Santa Fe’s storied past as a Spanish and Mexican territory. “La Fonda is the heart of the city,” emphasizes Heather. “Locals and visitors love to meet here.” Accented with authentic carved timber-beamed ceilings, the hotel spans a block in the center of town and includes a rooftop bar.
The ambience of Santa Fe’s pueblo-style accommodations adds to the charm of the city, and rooms often include wood fireplaces with authentic Spanish furnishings. “Since the early 1900s, city code dictates that buildings can’t be taller than four stories,” adds Heather. “They also must be the color of the earth.” Just around the corner, the Rosewood Inn of the Anasazi offers close proximity to the center of Santa Fe. Nearby, The Inn of the Five Graces also provides high-end accommodations designed in a bold fiesta of color throughout. Visitors who prefer a resort experience can stay five minutes from town at the landmark 300-acre Auberge Bishops Ranch, where guests can take in a sunset view by the fire on the patio.
What to Do
From the Plaza in the center of town, we walk a block to the Cathedral Basilica to experience a free concert by the Santa Fe Symphony Chorus. Built in 1869, the Cathedral’s hand-painted arches and walls graced with oil paintings from the 1700s create a sublime setting to take in a concert. “An important part of the culture in Santa Fe is music,” explains Heather. “In August, locals and visitors congregate for free concerts in the square several nights a week.” In addition, the Santa Fe Opera’s summer performances draw people from all over the country to its venue outside of town set in an iconic New Mexican landscape.
After the concert, we stroll a few blocks to the Palace of the Governors, where we connect with local Native Americans selling their jewelry and pottery under the portal. “Jewelry sold here must be real silver and local turquoise,” notes Heather. “Artisans are chosen through a lottery system and vetted by the New Mexico History Museum.” In the summer, one of the most celebrated and renowned events for Native American art enthusiasts is the annual Indian Market, drawing artisans from all over the West to showcase and sell their work. The Folk Art and Spanish Markets are also popular summer festivals for fans of these traditions.
Art (Including Culinary)
Recently ranked the sixth largest art capital in the world, Santa Fe is a mecca for art lovers. More than 80 galleries lining picturesque Canyon Road provide visitors a chance to stroll for days through exhibits and meet the artists. While local studios represent art of all genres from ancient to modern, the Native American collections in museums and galleries are unrivaled worldwide. “What makes it interesting from an art and history viewpoint is that the majority of the Native American population surrounding Santa Fe is on their original land,” says Heather. “They were not nomadic and are known for their weaving and pottery. They contribute a lot to the experience because their art has been here before anyone else got here.”
To view a variety of Native American Art, we drive five minutes to Museum Hill and tour the Museum of Indian Arts & Culture and the Wheelwright Museum, showcasing one of the largest collections of Native American jewelry in the world. Here, visitors can take in several other museums and a botanical garden as well. The views from Museum Hill provide sweeping vistas of Santa Fe with its surrounding snow-capped peaks and a chance to photograph a dazzling New Mexican sunset.
Next on our list, a few blocks from the Plaza, we redeem our tickets at the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum and step into this art enclave. Art enthusiasts can visualize the New Mexican terrain through the eyes of one of the Southwest’s premier artists. “Georgia O’Keeffe developed a style of painting that really reflects America,” Heather points out. “She is part of the lore here.” Afterwards, we head to The Shed, where we dine on authentic New Mexican enchiladas and signature margaritas. Don’t let the humble name of this renowned family establishment fool you—advance reservations are needed.
To get a sense of the local culinary scene, a trip to the sprawling Santa Fe Farmers Market on Saturday morning is a must. In the fall, the smell of green chilies roasting onsite adds a distinct aroma to the market. “Some of the crops such as chilies were brought here by the Spanish and still grow here 400 years later,” Heather shares. Chefs dream up everything from green chili cheese burgers and stews to green chili milkshakes and lattes. Cafe Pasqual’s breakfast of huevos rancheros with green chili sauce and the chorizo burrito provide quintessential Santa Fe flavors.
Excursions Outside Santa Fe
To gain perspective on the surrounding landscape, we make an overnight escape to Taos Ski Valley, just a two-hour drive from Santa Fe. Our trip takes us through the artist colony of Taos where Ansel Adams and D.H. Lawrence once lived. Traveling the “low road,” as locals refer to it, we pass a herd of elk and stop on the red-cliffed banks of the Rio Grande River, where we encounter a bighorn sheep just 10 feet from our car.
For a shorter day trip, spa devotees can travel an hour outside of town to historic Ojo Caliente Mineral Springs, one of the oldest natural health resorts in the country. Here, on lands first settled by the Pueblo Indians 1,000 years ago, geothermal mineral waters flow from a subterranean volcanic aquifer. A day pass allows guests to sample various healing pools of different minerals as well as a swimming pool set in the high-desert scenery. For those who prefer to stay closer to town, Ten Thousand Waves spa is known for its natural mineral springs and Izanami restaurant.
For outdoor enthusiasts, one of the premier adventures is Bandelier National Monument, with over 70 miles of trails less than an hour from Santa Fe. Hikers can explore the ancestral Pueblo Tribe cave dwellings carved into the canyon walls and adventure up ladders to peek inside and discover petroglyphs from as early as the mid-12th century. Closer to town, the hills surrounding the city offer immediate access to open space through a network of hiking and mountain biking trails.
Steeped in Spanish, Mexican and Native American life, Santa Fe will leave you feeling as though you have been immersed in another culture. “Santa Fe is not a one-trick pony,” smiles Heather. “It’s the package deal of art, music, history, food and the outdoors, unlike any other place.”
In addition to those creatures that can actually fly—birds, bats, insects—there are a number of animals that leap in the air to momentarily defy gravity. These airborne aspirants launch themselves for a variety of reasons: to hunt, get over barriers, escape prey, efficiently get from place to place or perhaps, simply, for the joy of it. These momentary bursts are difficult to capture photographically, requiring a combination of a ready camera, a fast shutter speed, patience, preparation, stealth and a fair bit of luck. Check out these spring-loaded Peninsula critters capable of catching air and consider pulling out your camera for your own leap of faith.
It is hard to imagine a charismatic spider until you meet jumping spiders in the family Salticidae. With their large eyes, expressive faces and distinctive personalities, these small predators have acquired a sizable fan club. Add in diverse and distinctive coloration and fabulous mating dances, and I always jump at the opportunity to snap their portrait.
The Sierran tree frog (Pseudacris sierra) is much more frequently heard than seen. Not only can it detect when someone is approaching and become silent, but it is also a bit of a ventriloquist. However, if you imagine where frogs might want to be, you may find them near ponds or under logs. I encountered this specimen near Alpine Road in Portola Valley.
The desert or Audubon’s cottontail (Sylvilagus audubonii) is a member of the Leporidae family of mammals including rabbits and hares. This charming bunny is found in Peninsula Open Space parks along with its close relative, the brush rabbit (Sylvilagus bachmani.). Cottontails use their jumping skills primarily as a way to escape predators and they seem to have a great many—including snakes, raptors and coyotes.
This Mediterranean katydid or bush cricket (Phaneroptera nana) can be found in local gardens and parks. This specimen was spotted in Eleanor Pardee Park in Palo Alto. The incredibly long hind legs are adapted to leaping, although it also has wings that may resemble a butterfly in flight. Unfortunately, it is an invasive species and can be an agricultural pest.
Fences and barriers seem to be relatively ineffective in stopping mule deer (Odocoileus hemionus). In addition to running and jumping, they are capable of a behavior called pronking or stotting, which seems more like a bounce than anything else—with all four legs landing at the same time.
The black-tailed jackrabbit or American desert hare (Lepus californicus) is another member of the Leporidae family. They are remarkable for their big eyes, big ears and big jumps. They are found in great numbers in Byxbee Park and in other Peninsula Bayland areas. They have also adapted remarkably well to life on the Stanford campus.
To me, jumping is an expression of exuberance. Certainly, being out in nature is a significant source of that exuberance. I am extremely fortunate to have accumulated jumping photos from all seven continents. This shot shows me aloft over the East Bay Hills. A combination of appropriate camera angle, good timing and strong propulsion from my hind limbs allow my sense of levity to overcome the force of gravity.
Back in spring 2020, Menlo Park’s Rick Morris pulled his old Nikon out of the closet and applied his focus to birds. A camera and lens upgrade and many adventures later, he captured this Perfect Shot of a female Anna’s hummingbird in Palo Alto’s Gamble Garden. “The hummers were being super shy that day but this one came down to feed on the Peruvian lilies a few times,” he recalls. “I love being able to freeze the action and zoom in on all the beautiful details and colors that you can’t see with the naked eye.”
Image by Rick Morris / linktr.ee/rickwmorrisphotography
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.
Artworks in gold frames hang floor to ceiling in harmony. Painted canvases fill the seats of repurposed church pews and stacks 20 pieces deep line the walkways. At Kerwin Galleries on California Drive in Burlingame, coastal California landscapes are on display next to non-objective abstract art, exploring shapes, angles and colors. Glass cases reveal jewelry, antique books and a Whistler etching, The Little Rag Gatherers, which depicts two youths in a rustic workshop.
This massive collection of early California (1880-1950) art and 19th- and 20th-century American and European art is the life’s work of husband and wife art dealers Richard and Mercedes Kerwin. The couple has been buying, selling and custom-framing art for 61 years. Richard first opened Kerwin Galleries in 1961 on Taraval Street in San Francisco, with Mercedes joining him soon after. The couple moved to Millbrae, relocating the gallery to Burlingame near Mills-Peninsula Medical Center in the mid-1960s, before settling into the current location in 1982. Just a block away from the foot traffic of Broadway, the blue two-story building with red awnings grabs the attention of passing drivers.
Originally from New Mexico, Richard came out to California as a young man and took San Jose State University business courses. While going to school, he worked at art galleries in San Jose and San Francisco, picking up art dealing and framing skills in the late 1950s and early ’60s. He decided to open a gallery so he could be his own boss. “It was not easy getting started,” Richard recalls, “but I had enough experience from the place in San Jose to start on my own with a little bit of money and hard work.”
Meanwhile, Mercedes worked at a San Francisco insurance company using the secretarial skills she learned in her home country, Nicaragua. While hanging out at what’s now Sabella & La Torre restaurant at Fisherman’s Wharf with friends, Mercedes was approached by two handsome men, Richard and his visiting brother. They asked to join her table. Richard and Mercedes discovered that they both lived in the Sunset district, and she accompanied the brothers for a sightseeing tour of the city.
The chance meeting marked the beginning of an art-filled life’s journey together. Mercedes left her typing job to help Richard run the gallery. They trained their eye for art, developing a sense for quality by frequenting the Oakland Museum of California and de Young Museum and visiting art galleries. “Weekends were spent looking at other galleries and shows in the parks and different places,” remembers Richard. “Anywhere I could see another show, I would go, not necessarily to accomplish anything, but to learn.”
Over time, the Kerwins amassed an impressive collection of traditional artwork evoking familiar locales and emotions, along with a select group of contemporary pieces. Richard ventured out on art buying sprees in the Midwest and Southwest. The couple handled the sale of artists’ estates, bought from other dealers and partnered directly with artists themselves. “When I got my shop started, there were a lot of artists in my area who walked in and said, ‘Can I leave my paintings here on consignment?’” recounts Richard. “Artists are really eager to show their work.”
Mercedes clarifies that they didn’t accept all of the artwork that walked in the door. “I have to see good quality, and I ask where they have studied, where they have shown their work and different questions to get a little more background,” she explains. Mercedes advises that it’s helpful for an artist to have a brochure or website detailing where they have previously sold or shown paintings when seeking representation in an art gallery.
Not artists themselves, the Kerwins have a deep appreciation for what artists do. Mercedes took a few art classes but quickly grew frustrated when comparing her art to the paintings in the gallery. “You say, ‘Why can’t I do this the way the artist does this?’ This is because the artist has so many years of experience,” she observes, “and you want to do it just like they do. It is impossible.” She decided to stop trying to paint and focus on showcasing beautiful works of art instead.
Major holdings include paintings by Frank Myers, Nancy Martin and John A. Dominique as well as etchings by Joseph Eidenberger and the Kasimir family of Austria. As their collection grew, the Kerwins became friends with some of the artists they represented. One was John A. Dominique. Known for his landscapes of the West Coast, Dominique was a plein air painter who captured the beauty of California with loose brushstrokes.
The Kerwins admired Dominique’s artwork so much that they bought everything he would sell them. After talking with him about his art and watching him work, their appreciation for Dominique’s versatility as a painter inspired them to commission a book on his art, John A. Dominique, Poet of Landscape. Former managing editor of Antiques & Fine Art magazine Charlotte Berney wrote the book, and the Kerwins supplied the photos. Dominique lived to be 100 years old, his painting style evolving throughout his long career.
Walking into the gallery for the first time, customers might feel overwhelmed by the enormity of choices before them in price points ranging from a few hundred dollars to many thousands. Mary Matsunaga, Kerwin Galleries operations manager of 36 years, loves to help people discover the perfect piece to bring home. “We’re pretty relaxed here, so we like to chat while looking at the paintings,” she says. “When I get a sense of the person’s taste and start to see similarities in the pieces they are drawn to, I will show them work I think may be to their liking.” Working with customers is also one of Mercedes’s favorite things about being a gallery owner.
Six decades into the endeavor, the Kerwins relish being around the artwork they’ve collected. “There’s not another gallery in the whole Peninsula with the selection we have here,” reflects Mercedes. “It’s amazing the quality of work that we have.” And while Richard isn’t able to frequent the gallery as often, the couple has plenty of art at home for him to contemplate and enjoy. “There is happiness in owning art that I like to sell,” he affirms. “It’s a lot of pleasure to be around art.”
Menlo Park’s Kate Jerome sits on both sides of the desk: She’s a successful publishing executive and an award-winning children’s book author. With a body of work (including more than 200 published books) that’s already influenced millions of kids, she’s showing no signs of shifting into lower gear. In fact, Kate recently launched an intergenerational activity kit company (Little Bridges) and is writing an upcoming middle school science series. For Kate, success is clearly measured by the journey, not the destination.
Kate’s journey began in a small town in northeastern Ohio, where she spent childhood summers tagging along with her three brothers, exploring the area’s forests and creeks. “I was quite the science nerd,” Kate says of days spent building forts and watching tadpoles morph into frogs.
“Back then, my idea of a good time was to munch on a peanut butter sandwich and watch the chrysalis of a monarch butterfly hatch. I would go to the same spot in the field with the milkweed plants every day and wait with fascination,” she reminisces. “Those childhood experiences really laid the groundwork for my love of science.”
As a young college graduate, Kate set out to teach high school science in Chicago but found it difficult to land a job mid-year. Instead, she took a job with a federal tutoring program where she worked independently with kids who couldn’t attend school in person. This one-on-one instruction experience was a powerful teaching moment for Kate. “These kids would normally not be considered good students in a classroom setting, but working with them individually, I was so impressed with the progress they made,” she recounts.
Not long after, Kate saw an ad for an entry-level science editor at Scott Foresman and Company. She applied, interviewed and was hired on the spot. Her program successes led to multiple promotions, and in a meteoric rise, at the age of 35, she became president of the education publishing powerhouse. “The day I read that entry-level ad was one of the luckiest days of my corporate career,” she says. During her tenure there, Kate oversaw the development of kindergarten through college educational materials used by millions of students.
Kate’s career took an interesting pivot when she made the decision to leave her corporate position to spend more time with her children. At the same time, National Geographic was starting a new supplemental publishing division. Knowing of Kate’s reputation, they asked her to create an elementary science reading series. The collaboration grew from 15 books to more than 75 and validated Kate’s switch from corporate to creative. As an author and program developer who could work anywhere with internet access, she made the decision to relocate to the warmer climes of Charleston, South Carolina, where her parents and two brothers lived.
Additional titles (and awards) followed, and working with publishers like Penguin Random House and Acadia Publishing, Kate maintains a prolific career in writing children’s books. She is currently authoring a new series of middle-grade science books with Insight Editions in partnership with OceanX, a global initiative started by Ray and Mark Dalio to encourage ocean exploration. “I really love working with organizations that have a strong vision for the future,” Kate says, “because that allows me to create materials for kids that will have the most impact.”
When an article on Stanford University’s Distinguished Career Institute (DCI) caught Kate’s eye, her daughter encouraged her to apply. She was accepted into the prestigious program’s inaugural class, and in 2015, Kate put her Charleston life and career on hold and moved cross-country to live in Palo Alto for the year-long fellowship. “Imagine taking a professional timeout to just think and immerse yourself in research and classes,” she marvels. “It was an incredible experience.” During her year of academic exploration, Kate worked with Stanford’s Center on Longevity and became energized with the idea of intergenerational connections. “Strong intergenerational connections benefit both ends of the spectrum,” notes Kate. “Older adults give kids emotional support and self-worth while kids provide a sense of purpose and relevance to adults. It creates a lovely, virtuous cycle.”
After her Stanford Fellowship, Kate made the decision to permanently relocate to the West Coast to live nearer her son (in San Diego) and daughter (in Santa Cruz). She accepted a position as president of Insight Editions, a publishing company located in San Rafael. The founder and CEO of the company, Raoul Goff, shares Kate’s commitment to creating quality environmental books, and he and Kate wanted to do more of that kind of publishing for kids. But when the pandemic hit, she and Raoul decided to partner on a new entrepreneurial venture called Little Bridges, which represents a mantra close to Kate’s heart. “I really believe that reading opens many doors for children, but meaningful conversations give them the courage to go through them,” she explains. “So the activities we develop at Little Bridges are designed to get kids, parents and grandparents laughing and talking. That’s when the magic happens.”
According to Kate, Little Bridges is a culmination of many things—spanning the valuable lessons learned in early childhood from her now-deceased parents to the most strategic and successful boardroom conversations. “Even back when I was developing textbooks for teachers,” she reflects, “I could see that given the right tools and situations, important conversations had the opportunity to emerge—sometimes with life-changing consequences.”
Now that Kate has established roots in Menlo Park, not far from her daughter in nearby Santa Cruz, she’s able to test her kits on her youngest grandchild, and they continue to work together to develop the activities. There are currently three activity kits available—focusing on outdoor exploring, cooking and family activity time. “Meaningful conversations can’t be forced,” she says, “so we focus on the fun first and that creates the opportunities for natural dialogue to emerge.”
As the oldest generation in the family, along with her brothers, Kate recognizes that time is fleeting and that there’s immense value in the relaying of stories and family history. “When we have family gatherings, it’s strange to think that we are now the keepers of the family wisdom,” she observes. Drawing from her own experiences, she’s committed to fostering vibrant exchanges and memorable intergenerational moments.
“I’ll never forget having lunch with my father, not realizing that soon after he would leave us,” she recalls. “Just out of the blue, he placed his hand on mine and said, ‘I just want you to know that I’ve had such a good life, and it’s because of you and your brothers and your mother.’” Kate says it’s a memory she will always cherish. “I was so glad he said that,” she reflects, “and I try to tell everyone what a gift it is to let the people you love know how important they are to you.”
Isn’t that fresh Bay air just delightful? I can never get enough sniffs of it, which is why I’m so happy that I found my home on the Peninsula. I actually started out as a stray in Fresno but a shelter there turned me over to Humane Society Silicon Valley, and that’s how I came into Susan’s life as a foster pup. At first, I was nervous and fearful, but once I moved in with Susan and Rosie (a parrot!) in Menlo Park, my confidence really skyrocketed. I began to reveal my happy and energetic true self, and Susan knew I needed to permanently join the family. I love to take walks and my favorite outing is Westpoint Harbor in Redwood City. Susan puts me on a 75-foot leash so I have plenty of freedom to roam—and I’m learning to always come back when she calls me. I like to dig and there are lots of rocks and holes to explore. I also have a nifty trick I’ll share with you. When I find an enticing smell, I drop and roll on it so I can carry it away with me. (Try it sometime!) Susan thinks I’m a Terrier mix, but you can always recognize me by the distinguishing stripe on my nose. I don’t think it enhances my sense of smell, but whenever I catch a whiff of something good, it makes me want to fly like the wind
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.
James Johnston House, a New England farmhouse just a short stroll from Half Moon Bay’s Main Street, is an enduring structure dating back to 1853. Ever since Ohio pioneer James Johnston completed its construction for his Californio bride, this historic coastal landmark has prevailed through nearly 170 years of high winds, vandalism and stringent coastside conditions. Perhaps it’s not ready to give up the view. From its vantage, the two-story building enjoys the area’s rippling hills and rolling Pacific waves, and watches the hillside shift from gold to green and back again in its seasonal ebb and flow. But Johnston House didn’t become the oldest-standing American home along the San Mateo County coastline without a little help. Thanks to the advocacy of a pair of honeymooners who stumbled across the bedraggled building back in the ’60s and the intervention of the San Mateo County Historical Association, the Johnston House Foundation was formed. Now marking its 50th year, the Foundation put in considerable effort to replace timbers, restore redwood floors and stairways and refurbish the interior. The building’s paint-stripped exterior was given a fresh coat of white paint, restoring its former reputation as “The White House of Half Moon Bay.” Perhaps the most noticeable feature of the farmhouse is its asymmetrically-angled roof—somewhat reminiscent of a ski jump. “Saltbox-style” homes were a classic American colonial staple and get their name from the boxes people used for salt storage back in the day. If you linger long enough outside Johnston House, you might spot a bird using this ramp-like roof to launch itself into a crisp blue sky. For a tour, stop by Johnston House on the third Saturday of every month (January through September) between 11AM and 3PM. For more details, visit johnstonhouse.org.
I’ve been watching a lot of Norm MacDonald on YouTube lately. I like the guy—his unique wit and unapologetic jokes. Of course, Norm’s dead now; he died too young for such a gifted comedian. He brought such life to the world. In a video I was watching the other night, he said, “We are so lucky to be alive. It’s the greatest gig in the world. You get to eat at Denny’s…”
It’s as though he read my mind.
When my children were young, our Sunday night ritual was to go out to dinner with our good friends the Gessows—Jody and Rhonda and their kids Jeremy, Danielle and Julie. Our children were friends from birth. For years, we’d head over to Ken’s Pancake House in Menlo Park before they changed it to a fish restaurant and then to another fish restaurant and then to something else and now it’s Jeffrey’s Hamburgers.
I’m not sure Ken’s was especially pleased to see us with our seven rambunctious kids, though Sunday nights were slow, and we’d always leave a good tip. It was the type of place with Formica tables, a “pie of the day” and paper menus for the kids to draw on.
Our children were sweet-tempered but, well, they were still kids, and they would have a time at the place, throwing crayons across the table, spilling water and tearing open and eating the sugar and jelly packets. Inevitably, the boys would start chasing each other through the restaurant, and we’d have to tell them to quiet down so that we wouldn’t seem like degenerate parents.
When we learned that Ken’s was closing to make room for the first fish restaurant, we had to pivot and that took us to the Denny’s in Redwood City at the corner of Woodside Road and Highway 101. The kids continued where they left off, being high-spirited and loud with no one seeming to mind too much.
Eventually, our Sunday nights went the course of youths growing up and lives changing. But it was a good run. The children remain tight friends today since pancake-bonding lasts a lifetime.
Recently, the one day I dread each year, my birthday, was approaching. I’m not sure why I dislike it so much, whether it means another year of my life flying by or because I don’t like attention, but I much prefer the day after my birthday.
Each year, one of my kids will ask, “Where do you want to go for your birthday?” meaning which restaurant. I never have an answer. When they asked this year, given our plethora of grandchildren, I think the kids thought I’d probably want them to get babysitters, put on nice clothes and head out for an adult dinner. But I couldn’t imagine having my birthday celebration without the little guys.
Instantly, I knew where we were going. I told my youngest daughter, “Denny’s, with all the kids.” We made a plan: a non-reservation at 5:30PM (which is when you eat when you have six kids three and under).
My children kept asking me if I really wanted to go to Denny’s. “Heck, yeah,” I said, already salivating for the Grand Slam breakfast.
We arrived on my birthday night, and the host promptly put a half-dozen tables together in the middle of the room with eat-in booths on either side of us. There weren’t many people there: a couple of older folks enjoying the special senior menu and a few families. We pretty much had the place to ourselves.
Within minutes of sitting down, the grandkids were up and about, climbing in the booths, using them for trampolines and reaching for those familiar sugar packets and tubs of jelly. The waitress was incredibly good-natured, and we tried our best to keep things under control.
The Denny’s menu is amazingly broad—from eggs to steaks to anything in between. But we all had a good idea of what we wanted, so it didn’t take us long to decide. Soon, what the kids had been waiting for all day arrived: strawberry milkshakes. And then our sweet waitress, who referred to each of us as “Dear,” brought out the chocolate chip pancakes, macaroni and cheese, French fries and other good stuff. I had a perfectly tasty eggs Benedict with crispy hash browns.
It was a perfect night at the perfect place and, of course, reminded me of our wonderful Sunday nights with the Gessows. Walking out of the restaurant—with a lift in my heart—I realized that I’m not happy when I’m supposed to be happy. I’m happy when those whom I love are happy. And Norm was right. Boy, am I lucky to be alive.
Marketing pioneer Philip Kotler once said, “A good company offers excellent products and services. A great company offers excellent products and services but also strives to make the world a better place.” Redwood Shores-based Penny Chin, who began her interior design career in 1982, applies this sentiment every day. She helps her clients transform their homes with the knowledge and patience of someone who has executed hundreds of projects.
Penny’s firm, Elements in Design, has a grasp on the numbers, expectations and realistic time frames of a project—whether it’s Bing Crosby’s Hillsborough estate, former Oakland As player Rickey Henderson’s homes in Hillsborough and Las Vegas or a first-time homebuyer.
Penny’s holistic path to design began as a young girl in New York where she would accompany her parents to open house tours and then doodle floor plans for fun. Years (and many doodles later), Penny had intentions to study architecture, but she married and decided to focus on her growing family instead. In 1972, she and her family moved to San Bruno and rented a home. Not long after, Hillsborough became their permanent residency.
One day, while sitting in her kitchen, reflecting that her children were in school all day, Penny asked herself what she wanted to do with her life. She had used an interior designer for her own home and recalls thinking, “Well, maybe now is the time to explore this interest.” Especially drawn to kitchen design, she quickly realized it could be a timely pursuit. “Come to find out,” she says, “no one in the early ’80s was doing it.”
After Penny earned a degree in interior design, she specialized in kitchens, but after a while, she learned about commercial design and realized that it was a better fit for her lifestyle. “Residential clients wanted me to be available on nights and weekends, but commercial clients needed availability during the weekdays, which worked better for raising five children,” she recounts. Some of her larger clients (like IBM and Disneyland) required spatial design plans and Penny excelled at them. She also dabbled in restaurant design, a niche that she describes as a “puppet show,” where the audience is the diner and anything is possible. Yet, she continued to keep one foot in the residential world, believing that it was where she could make the biggest impact.
“Every skill I gleaned from my commercial and restaurant clients is used with my residential clients,” she came to realize. “I’ve installed slat walls, where retailers hang hooks to display merchandise, in the kitchen for clients to hang their prized pots and in the pantry for modular storage.” Such functional approaches are key to Penny’s portfolio and design philosophy. “Function always comes first for me. Let’s design for function first, style after,” she says. “Interior designers are more than just color-pickers…we’re spatial problem-solvers.”
With an average of 30 projects a year for 40 years, Penny has seen a wide swath of design quandaries. The firm’s website is filled with examples of transformations, and the Elements in Design team thrives on these projects. “Once we have the vision down,” she notes, “we ask clients to be flexible as we take them on a journey with us.”
Penny is very transparent about budgets and will balk when figures don’t align with the work. One way she works around a client’s budget constraints is to map out a project in phases, tackling design dilemmas that are most critical first. With four different teams of licensed carpenters, plumbers and electricians, she can also match up the best fit and skill sets for each project.
Transformation is a familiar theme for Penny, who’s progressed through three Hillsborough homes with her family before ultimately downsizing to her current residence in Redwood Shores. She enjoys living in a beautiful setting without the maintenance and says she’s not ready for the next transition—retirement—yet. “I can retire at any time,” she reflects. “I’d rather retire while my practice is busy, and I’m still happy working and making the world a better place.”
Erika Carrero didn’t set out to become a luxury shoe designer, but it happened the same way the Los Altos resident does everything in life: with a vision for the future and a lot of hard work. While a student in her home country of Peru, Erika held a full-time job as a full-time university student and she cheerfully calls herself a nerd.
“I was one of those kids who was always happy doing homework,” remembers Erika. “I really like studying. It’s good for your brain.”
Erika’s determination led her to Santa Clara University, where she earned her MBA. That degree opened the doors to Silicon Valley and her career took off. She landed in software and SaaS doing operations and finance, working her way up and doing a lot of business travel. She found herself flying at least once per quarter to far-flung destinations such as London, Stockholm, Argentina and Mexico, where her position required a high degree of skill and even higher heels.
“I needed to wear heels constantly,” recalls Erika. “We’d be in meetings all day and then on to dinner, drinks and dancing, and then start the next day with 8AM meetings. I was always in pain.”
Later, as the CFO for a startup, she was traversing the U.S. searching out companies to acquire, all while still wearing excruciatingly painful high heels. When her own company was sold, Erika finally had the time and the financial foundation to explore a business idea she’d been playing with: Why not create a line of both comfortable and luxurious high-heeled shoes? It was an idea growing more insistent with every painful blister and bunion—and one she’d been preparing for for several years.
Once again, Erika had been educating herself. After her MBA, she earned her CPA and completed a certificate in finance from UC Berkeley and a Stanford executive leadership course, all while working full-time and starting her family.
“To me, education is such an important part of life,” espouses Erika. “Every stage of my career has been about education. It pushes you forward.”
Forward indeed. It was at the Stanford leadership course where she met someone who worked in the luxury accessories sector. Now Erika had someone to give her guidance and answer her myriad of questions about the footwear business. She gave Erika good advice, telling her to “concentrate on the product and the shoes will sell themselves.”
Erika had already been taking online classes to learn shoe design from the esteemed Arsutoria School in Milan. After attending Arsutoria’s in-person course in Los Angeles, she was hooked. Erika headed to Italy where she immersed herself in every aspect of shoemaking. And she appreciated that the hands-on program extended Arsutoria’s network of suppliers and factories to its students.
“That’s how I met my team, through school and also by knocking on doors,” explains Erika. “No one was answering my emails, so I went out knocking, thinking, ‘I don’t have anything to lose if they say no.’”
She ended up choosing a factory in Vigevano in the Lombardy region outside Milan. It’s known for its 1492-era Piazza Ducale, the Castle Sforzesco and centuries of shoemaking, highlighted at the Museo della Calzatura. The town also holds an annual shoe fair and market. Erika says Vigevano is a small town that used to be the center of shoemaking in Italy and continues to be a style capital. The proof? According to Erika, Manolo Blahnik uses the same factory she does and if that weren’t enough cred, she’s also expanding to have her shoes crafted in a Tuscan factory used by Gucci.
With her manufacturing in place, Erika focused on function, style and branding. She decided to name her business Elizée and incorporated in 2019.
“Elizée means the tradewinds in French, joyful in Hebrew and Elizabeth is my middle name,” says Erika of her Los Altos-based business. “It was inspired by my passion for travel.”
Already seeing steady customer growth, Erika’s luxury shoe collection is an assortment of pumps, sandals and booties, all handcrafted in Italian nappa leather—a top-quality leather that undergoes a unique tanning process which creates softer, more pliable hides—and all featuring 3- to 4-inch heels. With influencer sightings including Kathy Ireland, Access Daily and The Real Housewives of Orange County, the high-glamour, comfortable shoe line is also creating buzz with fashion editors, celebrities and stylists.
Erika designs each shoe herself. She looks at the trends and her team in Italy gathers leathers for her to approve based on mood boards she creates. Functionally, she avoids placing seams in sensitive areas like ankles or big-toe bunions, resulting in a shoe interior that feels soft and doesn’t cause discomfort.
“I really study and I don’t want to do anything that I don’t understand really well,” notes Erika. She even traveled to London to meet the shoemakers to the Queen as part of her research.
The defining feature of Erika’s shoes is the product innovation. To achieve her goal of making a luxury high heel with all-day comfort, Erika created an insole called Plush Contour. She did it by analyzing what makes shoes comfortable: They need to be made from the best traditional and high-tech materials and approved by podiatrists.
Unlike most heels with just a piece of cardboard between the outsole and insole, Elizée’s high-density poron memory foam combines with a layer of responsive gel that molds to your foot and absorbs the impact of your footsteps.
“Traditional luxury shoes are slim and very narrow, and to achieve that look they use thin padding—and sometimes just cardboard or thin foam—which leaves very little between your foot and the street. Using materials typically found in sneakers goes against the grain,” explains Erika, adding, “Louboutin red bottoms wouldn’t work with an insole like mine.”
But that’s okay with Erika, whose target customer is not just the Louboutin girl but also the woman who hasn’t worn high heels in a while and would like to try it again.
Erika is proud to say, “People are surprised at just how comfortable they are.”
Nee Lau, owner of The Mandarin, is passionate about good food. He can describe favorite dishes in exquisite detail—from a tender, herb-stuffed rotisserie chicken from a market in Avignon, France, to “the best venison” at Wild Hare, a long-since-closed Menlo Park eatery that once resided in the same spot that now houses Nee’s own restaurant. Although The Mandarin is his first solo venture as a restaurateur, he’s more than ready for the role.
Nee’s introduction to the food and beverage industry came at age 14, just shortly after he emigrated to Redwood City from China’s Guangdong province with his mother and three siblings. “I could barely speak English,” he says. “I didn’t even know A-B-C.” Nee enrolled at Sequoia High School and took on a part-time dishwashing job at nearby Give Pizza Chance.
By age 16, he was managing the pizza spot and learning about the food business from owners Rusty Epps and Bill Abney, whom he still affectionately refers to as “my bosses.” The two men became mentors and role models to the teenage Nee. They taught him to drive, helped him with his citizenship test and introduced him to a variety of dining experiences. More importantly, he says, “They also taught me about right and wrong, to enjoy life and to have fun while you’re doing what you do.”
Respecting his mother’s wishes that he pursue a financially lucrative career path, Nee earned a computer science degree from San Jose State University. “I hated it,” he says plainly of his field of study. Even so, he built a tech career at Excite@Home and then moved on to Lucent Technologies, where he rose to the role of senior network engineer, eventually leaving the tech industry when a reorganization at Lucent relocated his job to the East Coast. Nee took a severance package and traveled for six months.
He returned home with a desire for work that incorporated his love of restaurants and good food and suggested to his mother that the family go in together on an eatery. They opened their first restaurant in Vallejo in 2003 and followed with five more over a six-year period, all in the North Bay and Sacramento. (The family has since closed all but two of the properties.) During that time, Nee also earned his MBA from San Francisco State.
A long-held love of wine led Nee to create Amourvino Winery in Napa in 2013. Since its inception, the winery has been his primary business. As 90% of Amourvino’s wines are sold in China through direct partnerships, Nee spent much of his time before the pandemic traveling to his homeland on behalf of the business.
When pandemic restrictions halted travel to China, Nee was stuck at home. “I was bored out of my mind, and my wife wanted me to get out of the house,” he recounts. Although he wasn’t looking for another restaurant project, the opportunity arose when he learned from a friend that Menlo Park eatery Black Pepper had closed, and the building’s owners were looking for someone to take over the lease.
Nee considered the possibility of another family restaurant and consulted with his brother, “a professional restaurateur,” who cautioned him that the space was too big. Nee, familiar with Peninsula demographics and having faith in local diners, decided to pursue the project on his own. He didn’t have a concept in mind, but he knew that whatever he did, the food would have to be top-notch. “I had a vision to run good quality food that I’d be proud of,” he states.
Keeping the space’s interior modifications to a minimum, Nee instead focused on staffing and menu development. With a small team in place, and Nee jumping in where needed—”I was not afraid to get my hands dirty,” he says—The Mandarin opened in July 2021. The name, suggested by one of Nee’s sisters, is an homage to the restaurant opened by Cecilia Chiang in San Francisco in 1961. “Cecilia Chiang always promoted Chinese cuisine, and I’ve always had a sense of pride about that,” Nee says. “She’s a woman I admire, who did something amazing.”
Chinese flavors and cooking techniques are the foundation of the restaurant’s pan-Asian menu, which comprises equal amounts of American-Chinese and traditional Chinese dishes, along with a few fusion creations, like the Singaporean-style Golden Crab dish. “I’m very straightforward: I think food is food. There is no prejudice against American-Chinese or Chinese-American,” he emphasizes. “Traditionalism and fusion can cross over—as long as the food is good, and the ingredients are fresh and local.”
In developing the menu with his chef, Nee opted for quality over quantity. “A typical Chinese menu is usually about 300 items,” he notes. “I didn’t want that many. I wanted the chef to pick out the best.” Topping his list of traditional must-have “chef’s specials” is the tea-smoked duck. Also on the list: eight treasure duck, a labor-intensive dish that must be ordered two days in advance. A deboned, skin-on duck is stuffed with sticky rice, dried shrimp, dried scallops, cured daikon, heritage pork belly, Chinese sausage, salty egg and peanuts and then (in a nod to Give Pizza Chance), wrapped in dough before being steamed and baked. The crispy, thin outer layer of bread isn’t part of the traditional recipe. Nee taught himself to make this dish at home several years ago from watching a YouTube video and added the dough layer on a whim.
Familiar American-Chinese dishes populate the appetizers section of the menu, including pot stickers, moo shu variations, and the ubiquitous Chinese chicken salad. Diners will find familiar dishes like honey walnut prawns and General Tso’s chicken among the family-style entrées. Kung pao chicken is available in two varieties: an American-Chinese version, which includes vegetables, and the traditional Chinese version, which Nee says is vegetable-free. Offering two takes on the dish is a way to bridge the gap between traditional and American-style Chinese dishes. Customers in the know can request either, and the staff has been trained to offer the traditional option to Chinese customers who might prefer it.
Despite pandemic-related dining restrictions, business has been good. “When we opened, we were very lucky, very busy,” Nee says. With a solid menu in place and a growing clientele, he wants to add to The Mandarin’s offerings. An avowed lover of sushi, Nee is planning to include some traditional Japanese dishes later this year. And, of course, there will be a comprehensive wine list, which will include “about 100 wines.”
Through his Menlo Park dining venture, Nee is sharing his passion for good food, welcoming the opportunity to educate customers about the restaurant’s menu and traditional dishes. It seems that he’s taken the sage advice of his mentors to heart, enjoying life and having fun while doing what he loves.
“It was love at first sip,” says pikklepuss owner Juli Alderson, of her introduction to shrubs during a friend’s socially-distanced get-together in 2020. She was so smitten with the fruity-tart blueberry beverage, that she got the recipe from her friend, bought a book on shrubs and kicked off a quarantine kitchen project that evolved into an eco-conscious small business with award-winning products.
Shrubs (also known as drinking vinegars or drinking shrubs) are made from fruit macerated in sugar and combined with vinegar to create a sweet-tart syrup that can then be mixed with water, alcohol or both. The history of shrubs in the U.S. goes back to the Colonial period, during which two variations of the beverage evolved: an alcoholic version that paired a syrup of citrus, sugar and aromatics with brandy or rum and a non-alcoholic fruit vinegar that was popular as a summer thirst-quencher. In recent years, shrubs have seen a resurgence, both as a healthy beverage and as a darling ingredient of craft cocktail makers.
“I’ve always loved a flavor profile that’s slightly sweet and slightly tart, and so I think that really struck a chord with me,” notes Juli. An enthusiastic cook with a penchant for reverse-engineering restaurant meals at home, she credits her upbringing in rural Alberta, Canada, with providing a foundation for creativity in the kitchen. “My family did a lot of preserving when I was growing up,” she recalls, “and we had a huge, acre-sized garden.
A country kid with city dreams, Juli moved to Toronto to attend Ryerson University and later began a career in sales with Cintas. But she had a long-held goal to land in Manhattan. “That was the pinnacle,” she says—until she made a visit to San Francisco. Juli arranged a stateside job transfer, first to San Diego, where she met her husband-to-be, and finally to Redwood City in the early 2000s, where they settled and started a family. “I love it here; we’re in a really great community,” she shares.
Working from home during the early months of the pandemic gave Juli an opportunity to develop her shrub-making skills while holding down her day job as a global sales manager for Cintas. Once she had a few solid recipes, Juli assembled a portable cocktail kit and began sharing her shrubs with friends during outdoor gatherings. The feedback was positive and encouraging, and the idea for a viable business began to coalesce. “I wanted to make it easier for people to spend more time socializing,” she says, “and less time doing mixology.” Her idea was to create a concentrated mixer that needed nothing more than the addition of alcohol and/or soda water.
Having what she calls “an entrepreneurial mindset,” Juli has always kept a running list of business ideas throughout the years and had written the word “pikklepuss” on her whiteboard sometime in 2015 or 2016—a callback to her mom chastening, “Don’t be such a picklepuss,” meaning sour face, when anyone woke up in a grouchy mood. “I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be a fun name for a company?’” In the midst of perfecting her shrub recipes, Juli looked at the whiteboard one day and had a lightbulb moment. “I just said ‘This is pikklepuss.’” The name in search of a company had found one
In early 2021, Juli had what she calls a listen-to-the-universe moment. On the same day that she was assembling her minimum viable product (rough packaging containing shrubs and a cocktail kit) to mail to friends for their feedback, she was also having a conversation with her longtime employer about her future and decided she was ready for a new path. “I was burnt out and looking for a change,” she explains. Parting ways with Cintas on the last Friday in February, she officially launched pikklepuss as a full-time venture the following Monday.
A one-woman show, Juli does everything herself—from making the shrubs at Kitchentown in San Mateo to bottling them and fulfilling orders that come through the pikklepuss website. Her farm-to-glass approach includes using locally sourced, organic and non-GMO ingredients and composting or upcycling fruit solids to reduce waste.
The pikklepuss product line consists of four shrub-based mixers for cocktails or mocktails: Citrus Tonic, Razzle-B Lime, Pear Ginger and Strawberry Pepper. “I just felt as though those flavors came together the best, and they didn’t need any more tinkering,” she states. Pear Ginger and Strawberry Pepper each earned a Good Food Award in February 2022 for their balanced, elegant flavors.
Juli also created a curated cocktail kit around each mixer, with names like “The Ultimate Gin and Tonic” and “The Ultimate Raspberry Daiquiri.” Each kit, packaged in a colorful box, includes a mixer, selected bar tools and a snack. The Gin and Tonic and Raspberry Daiquiri kits also contain an upcycled food product—candied citrus peel and raspberry fruit leather, respectively. Think of each collection as a cocktail party in a box: just add friends and your libation of choice.
The universe again brought unexpected opportunity Juli’s way in November 2021, when Redwood City-based Balsam Brands reached out with an offer she couldn’t refuse. “It was so perfectly aligned with my interests,” she shares. Taking on a full-time role has meant transitioning to part-time with pikklepuss for the time being.
Long-term, her goal “is to be the Fever-Tree of shrub mixers,” she adds, name-checking the premium mixer business. But for now, next steps include focusing on distribution and sales so that she can get pikklepuss mixers into more glasses. And as a shrub evangelist, she’s ready to spread the word about the beverage she fell for at first sip. “The saddest thing is that a lot of people don’t know what a shrub is,” she points out. “And I would just love to share them with the world, because they’re so delicious.”
Yakitori is the Japanese style of charcoal grilled and skewered meats . . . here’s a mix of choices.
izakaya ginji
San Mateo
This casual spot is as close to a Japanese pub as you’ll find on the Peninsula. Izakaya Ginji offers a wide variety of items on their menu including sushi rolls, donburi (rice bowls), Japanese curry dishes and “Japanese Tapas” such as Garlic Teriyaki Tontoro (pork cheek) and Ika Stick Karaage (dry fried seasoned squid). But it’s their yakitori menu that shines. Served from 5PM-8:30PM, preparations include soy-marinated, salt-seasoned or “tare” sauce-basted veggies and meats with offerings like chicken gizzard and quail eggs for the more adventurous foodies in your party. 301 East 4th Avenue. Open Thursday from 11:30AM-1:30PM; Monday through Wednesday and Friday through Saturday from 11:30AM-2PM; Monday through Saturday from 4:30PM-9PM. Closed Sunday.
sumika grill
Los Altos
If you’re looking for an authentic Japanese experience, this no-nonsense yakitori restaurant delivers. The moment you walk in, you’ll smell tantalizing aromas emanating from the kitchen’s charcoal grill. Yakitori items on the menu span a range of chicken, pork, seafood, veggie and beef selections, including American Wagyu beef with apple onion steak sauce and asparagus roll wrapped in black pork slice. Seasonings vary from ponzu and miso to plum sauce. Lunch offers additional items such as donburi and bento boxes. 236 Central Plaza. Open daily from 11:30AM-1:30PM; Monday through Thursday from 5:30PM-7:30PM; Friday through Sunday from 5:30PM-8PM.
hikari sushi & grill
Redwood City
Hikari offers a wide variety of different Japanese items to please just about everyone, from noodle dishes to nabe (hot pot) and plenty of sushi rolls. As an extra bonus, they have a selection of grilled skewers perfect for the yakitori beginner. Highlights include the kamo (duck breast), hotate (scallops) and shishito peppers topped with bonito flakes. It’s the perfect place for those who want to try yakitori without being intimidated by an overwhelmingly large menu or too many offal offerings. The setting is clean, modern and comfortable. 490 El Camino Real, Suite 140. Open daily from 11:30AM-2:30PM and 4:30PM-8:30PM.
There is a stereotype about artists working alone in cold, drafty studios, miserable in their poverty and isolation. It might make for good drama but in reality, contemporary artists want and need all the usual creature comforts as well as the camaraderie of fellow creative spirits. That is why places like Art Bias, an artist collective in San Carlos, are so vital both to the individual artist and the community.
Located in the busy industrial area of San Carlos, Art Bias has been in existence for five years, but its inception goes back much further. In 1993, a group of artists joined forces to create the Redwood City Art Center in the downtown area. As often happens, the group was displaced when the building was bought by a developer. Fortunately, a former office building at 1700 Industrial Road became vacant and the artists took the lease on the second floor. Gradually, the first floor area opened up and soon the building filled to its current capacity of 50 studios.
Artists working in a wide variety of media—ranging from painting, drawing and assemblage to photography and jewelry design—occupy the studio spaces, which vary in size from 100 to 800 square feet. Artists are charged according to studio size and are welcome to design and decorate their spaces as they wish. Doors can be closed for privacy and common areas, perfect for conferring with fellow artists, can be found on both floors.
A walk through the collective reveals an amazing array of inspiring spaces, each reflecting the artist’s chosen craft as well as the ability to create cozy yet efficient ateliers.
Open to the public weekdays from 9AM to 4PM, this unique setting exudes a feeling of warmth and welcome, where visitors are invited to enjoy art on display, talk to the artists and, perhaps, make a purchase.
Visit Art Bias on any given day, and you’ll likely find a contingent of artists on-site, since tenants can access their studios 24/7. “This is what is so appealing about a place like this,” observes board president Jeanette Karthaus. “It’s not a static gallery experience.”
Neither Jeanette nor fellow board member Alistair Jeffs are artists but, like the other six members of the board, they bring business and high-tech acumen to the nonprofit. Alistair serves as liaison to the Industrial Arts District, a five-block area designated by the City of San Carlos to support and encourage the arts in the city. “San Carlos has said that arts and crafts are important and has identified this as the area for it,” explains Alistair. He cites a need for artists to have more professional development and business skills—like software knowledge and working with QR codes—and summarizes his goal succinctly: “How can I help the artist thrive and be successful?”
Jeanette is tasked with tenant relations and promoting Art Bias to the community. She also had the difficult job of keeping the organization going through the ups and downs of the pandemic. Closed during the early lockdown phase, the studios reopened for artists as soon as it was feasible. According to Jeanette, tenants were given a discount on rent and Art Bias saw very little attrition during the past two years.
The board is also responsible for the fiscal health of the collective and Jeanette explains that the main income sources are rents and jury fees. Tom Chapman, an artist and the only staff member (he serves as facility manager), has overseen the jurying process for a number of years. Tom shares that five of the resident artists meet to consider applications, which include a portfolio. A four out of five vote is necessary to be accepted and criteria varies but, explains Tom, “The most important thing is that the work is good.”
“We are looking for working artists who are serious enough that they want to invest in a studio,” adds Jeanette. And with such a variety of needs, personalities and media, how does it all mesh? Tom laughs, “It’s like living in an apartment house. Everyone here gets along really well.”
In addition to the individual studios, there is ample space for the display of art. Hallways on both floors serve as galleries, and a large community room features both two- and three-dimensional pieces. Two tenants, Zdenka Bleile and Lindsay Hogue, have stepped into the role of curators, overseeing the quarterly exhibitions throughout the building. “To be honest, we stumbled into it because we have been here since the art center moved to this location,” says Zdenka. “We ask artists to submit paintings and select groupings that work well together. We have a hanging system so we hang all the paintings ourselves.” All of the art on display is available for purchase with 100% of sales revenue going directly to the artists. Artists are also allowed to teach in their spaces.
These displays and Art Bias’s involvement with outside events like Silicon Valley Open Studios promote the artists’ work to the public. Jeanette says that the entire community comes together for the Open Studios and their own holiday events. “That’s when you really get to understand how magical this place is,” she notes.
Each artist has the opportunity to show their work and to interact with visitors, explaining their background and process. “There are artists in studios working,” notes Jeanette. “It’s not just a showcase.” The board deemed these events important enough to embark on a new program, First Sunday Open Studios, which began in March 2022.
Jeanette speaks with justifiable pride about the continued success of Art Bias and how the tenants reflect the community at large. “In terms of diversity, race, age and media, it’s all here,” she says.
Jeanette is also quick to point out that it is not the physical plant that makes this venture work so well. “The building is not the draw here,” she reflects. “This is an older building in an industrial part of town—it really is the community.”
Studio #101 – Natalie Ciccoricco
Natalie was a freelance translator looking for a creative outlet. In 2015, she began making collages using embroidery thread, fiber, paper and wood. “Since I started renting my art studio, I have seen an increase in my production and sales. I have been able to take on more custom art projects for hotels and corporate clients, which has accelerated my shift towards becoming a full-time professional artist. Being part of an art community has also been a benefit to my art career, as we can learn so much from each other.” Natalie credits Art Bias with being just the boost she needed to progress. “It gave me confidence to take things to the next level,” she notes. “Renting an art studio has truly been one of the best decisions I’ve made as an artist.”
Studio #113 – Deborah Shea
Deborah studied with Wayne Thiebaud at UC Davis and also attended a summer arts program with Ruth Asawa. “They were both wonderful artists,” she says, “and definitely influenced my work.” Deborah cites pastels as her favorite medium (“You are working with almost pure pigment.”) and is currently focused on large-scale florals: “I am constantly amazed by all the beautiful gardens I see in the neighborhoods. I love to capture all the beauty in florals—exploring the abstract shapes, finding the path of light, creating transparency and building the luminous color of the flower centers and petals.” She considers having a studio space as a critical step in defining yourself as an artist. “I come to my studio every day and revel in a creative space I can call my own,” she says. “To be able to focus, spread out and dedicate yourself to your art is magic.”
Studio #212 – Zdenka Bleile
Zdenka is a native of Prague who began making art via drawing, painting and cut linoleum as far back as she can remember. Although she had a successful career as a freelance graphic designer, she felt the call of more creative work. She began painting with oils, working in an impressionistic manner. “Abstract art was always something I admired, but I didn’t know how to tap into that side of me,” she shares. “I was fortunate to discover a new medium: oil and cold wax. It immediately resonated with me and allowed me to move further away from descriptive reality. It is a joy to let go and immerse myself in a flow of imagination.” Zdenka considers her Art Bias studio as much more than a physical space. “It is my refuge from distractions, my connection to the art world and art community and my inspiration.”
Studio #103 – Jil Coolidge
Jil is a painter whose history with the collective dates back to the Redwood City Art Center. “I have been an artist since I was 15 when I asked my mom to show me how to draw a horse,” she recalls. “I was forever after obsessed with sketching and drawing.” After a career in the airlines, Jil set up a studio to paint and teach workshops for both kids and adults. “I started with watercolor and still lifes, then used my travel photos to work with destinations, always focusing on principles and methods.” Jil enjoys painting familiar spots on virtually any beach she visits and is fortunate enough to have studios on both coasts (here and Nantucket). She says about Art Bias, “It’s an incredible mix of artists, and I am very happy to have such an inspiring group of like-minded creatives.”
Art Bias: Open to the public Monday to Friday, 9AM-4PM For a tour of the facility: jeanette@artbias.org 1700 Industrial Road, San Carlos • artbias.org
As Peninsula gardens come alive with a splash of spring colors, don’t be concerned if you see a silver Prius casing the neighborhoods of Palo Alto.
“I drive up and down every street looking right and left,” says Dee Gibson about her seasonal ritual. An avid gardener herself, Dee has a clearly-defined mission: Identify five beautiful, show-stopping gardens to spotlight in Gamble Garden Spring Tour, the primary fundraiser for the historic two-and-a-half-acre property.
Free and open daily during daylight hours, Gamble is a go-to spot for relaxation, inspiration and education as well as a spectacular photography backdrop for every imaginable milestone.
However, back in 1981, when Elizabeth F. Gamble, the granddaughter of the co-founder of Procter & Gamble, bequeathed her house and garden to the City of Palo Alto, the local landmark’s future was rooted in uncertainty. The gift came with minimal guidance and no plan for how to fund its upkeep. In 1985, after lengthy debate, the decision was made to turn Gamble Garden into a nonprofit public garden, with restoration and maintenance to be entirely supported by private donations. The idea for the Spring Tour germinated that very same year.
Closing in on four decades now, the ticketed event includes access to five private Palo Alto gardens, along with a host of free community, shopping and horticultural activities at Gamble Garden. “The stewardship of the property is taken very seriously by this group—we’re committed to keeping our garden thriving as a place where people can go 365 days a year,” says Spring Tour co-chair Debbie Bensen. Debbie’s Spring Tour counterpart, Robin Allen, echoes the sentiment: “We think of ourselves as a hidden gem in Palo Alto.”
Representing the Spring Tour selection committee, Dee explains what happens when she spots a potential candidate. “I knock on the door, and I say, ‘You have a lovely front yard. Now may I see your backyard?’” Partnering with homeowners eager to support Gamble’s cause, the highly-curated result reflects a mix of styles—traditional to contemporary to drought-tolerant—and a diverse selection of plants, many available for purchase back at Gamble Garden. “If you see something you like and think, ‘I wonder where they got that?’ you’ll be able to buy it,” shares Dee, who will be hitting the road again soon, with an eye out for 2023.
“I’ll be looking as soon as the tour’s over,” she confirms. “Since the tour is in the spring, it’s very important to see what gardens look like in the spring.” For a sampling of what to expect, enjoy this PUNCH preview.
A Sense of Place
Arterra Landscape Architects
This sophisticated garden was designed to complement a historic 1930s Spanish home while reflecting the homeowner’s modern lifestyle. The updated landscape preserves its park-like beauty through a sequence of outdoor spaces that progress from formal to informal, moving outward from the house. Highlights include a courtyard garden with a central reflecting pool, a meadow of native no-mow grasses and a woodland garden with a heated bench under the shade of a 100-foot-tall coast redwood. A cool, neutral palette extends throughout the garden, which features California native plants and Mediterranean plants suitable for our climate. Low-maintenance, drought-tolerant plants emphasize form and texture over floral display. The lush, natural landscape offers a strong sense of place and a calm refuge for family and friends.
Entertaining Haven
Thomas Klope, Thomas Klope Associates
This historic home features a majestic deodar cedar, gnarled old oak, manicured front lawn and allée lined with agapanthus and boxwood. Despite the home’s formal lines, relaxed family living is celebrated and cherished, as evidenced by the tree swing and mini-obstacle course hanging from the branches of the giant cedar, and the treehouse with a fireman pole and pulley system nestled in the branches of the oak. Magnolias and pittosporum shield a side yard from the din of busy neighboring streets, creating an oasis that invites recreation and enjoyment. Within the yard, a solar-heated pool and pool house provide all the amenities for adult gatherings and teen hangouts. French doors connect the main house to an outdoor terrace and nearby fire pit, allowing for seamless indoor/outdoor living and entertaining.
A sense of sanctuary, a love of nature and an appreciation for classic style are reflected throughout this recently remodeled 1920s Birge Clark home. English laurels and stucco walls, softened by Virginia creeper vines, surround the property and give it the feel of a secluded private getaway. A custom-built gate at one corner reveals a cozy seating area featuring cushioned chairs and a stone fire pit. An old flowering cherry tree serves as a picturesque backdrop to this enchanting space. A pool and fountain serve as focal points for the backyard, drawing friends and family outdoors to gather and relax. New plantings blend in perfectly with existing landscaping, giving the property a refreshed atmosphere while maintaining its original character. An abundance of flowers including roses, camellias, azaleas, lavender, winter daphne and star jasmine provide heavenly scents all year round.
Whimsical Cottage:
John Black, Verdance Landscape Architecture
A winding path makes its way throughout this garden, connecting multiple gathering areas with playful touches and eye-catching gems at every turn. A terra cotta path and Provence lavender at the front of the property pay homage to the family’s Gallic heritage. Style meets function in curving planter boxes, a grape stake fence and bicycle rack sculpture. Points of interest include a repurposed Talavera tile birdbath, a back wall filled with driftwood sculptures and graffiti art and a custom-built steel pergola with cutout designs that cast gorgeous patterns of sunlight. Natural elements—ranging from columnar apple trees and creeping fig vine to giant ferns and giant redwood trees—offer an abundance of beauty. It all adds up to a garden that’s as pleasing to look at as it is to spend time in.
Zen Palette:
Sutro Architects, Ground Studio Landscape Architecture, Fox Landscaping
Sleek, modern simplicity, a monochromatic palette and free-flowing spaces characterize this garden designed for family living. The homeowner’s modern aesthetic is reflected in the home’s custom-made steel gates, open floor plan and clean, simple lines. Plant variety is kept to a minimum but repeated in abundance to maintain a consistent look and feel. This repetition of elements is evident in the paved pathways that traverse the property and in the undulating kurapia grass that anchors the front and backyards. A contoured hillside with a dramatic slice-through defines the property and provides separation for a tranquil retreat amidst the hustle and bustle of Silicon Valley. An in-ground trampoline and zip line are seamlessly incorporated into the landscape, making this a place where children can truly play, while still staying true to the homeowner’s minimalist style.
The line between a practice shot and the money shot began to blur when photographer Colin McRae returned home and started developing his camera rolls.
Sometime in 2006, the Berkeley-based photographer was working a commercial job that began with a helicopter liftoff from Hayward followed by a half-hour flight to shoots in the South Bay. Peering out from the chopper and passing time, Colin started snapping 35-millimeter images to warm up. His lens soon gravitated towards the peculiar topography below where vibrant colors flashed like pop art beside lines that zig-zagged through the Bay.
Image by Colin McRae
The explanation for the spectacular aerial views: miles of ever-changing salt ponds abutting the Peninsula’s bayside—from Redwood City to the southern point of the Bay. With portions formerly used by Cargill Corporation for salt production, the ponds continually shift in shades and tones with ephemeral cycles caused by salinity.
By way of an illuminating biology lesson, microorganisms thrive as salinity levels increase, and three in particular—
Dunaliella, Halobacteria and Synechococcus—create the colors seen in the water. When brine is concentrated, the algae impart a green hue whereas increased salinity causes an uptick in the population of brine shrimp that darkens the water to produce a deep-red pigment.
Image by Colin McRae
“The colors change all the time,” Colin observes. “I’d fly over areas that were brown and the next time they’re red.”
Over years of assignments, Colin amassed some 95 unique images for a series he’s titled The Abstract Art of the San Francisco Bay Tidelands, which he’s shown at the McLoughlin Gallery in San Francisco. It’s an ongoing act of observation that he’s continuously adding to—that is, whenever a helicopter ride presents itself.
Image by Colin McRae
PUNCH offers a sampling of Colin’s chopper’s-eye view of the Bay, a selection of his work that reconsiders the borderlines of beauty.
“I love the abstract nature of it. When you’re looking down from a distance, it is beautiful,” Colin says. “It’s striking. It’s something that you’d never see anywhere else.”
Here’s a quiz: What was the first bridge to span the San Francisco Bay? As you’re crossing the Dumbarton Bridge, just look to the south and you’ll see the answer. Opened in 1910 after three years of construction, the Dumbarton Rail Bridge carried rail traffic between Newark and Redwood City, replacing the need for less efficient freight ferries. Declared “a great engineering feat” in its day, the steel bridge shaved the rail route between San Francisco and Oakland by 26 miles. At a cost of $3.5 million, the structure was the most expensive bridge built in California at the time. Southern Pacific Railroad engineers used 6,000 carloads of rock to stabilize the sludgy marshland sufficiently to support the massive crossing on concrete pilings. When the Dumbarton Rail Bridge was functional, boats needing to pass through the Bay would signal the bridge operator, who relied on a diesel engine to swing the bridge open—a process that required about two minutes. The last freight train crossed the Dumbarton Rail Bridge in 1982. After it fell out of use, the bridge was permanently welded open to allow for unimpeded traffic flow on the water. The San Mateo County Transportation Authority purchased the bridge in 1994, but the future of the abandoned span remains undetermined, with no immediate plans to refurbish it or remove it.
In 1996, Jill Andre was working at her dream job as a designer at Tenth Planet, an educational software firm that focused on children’s literacy projects. But 2000 brought an economic downturn and she was laid off. “It was a great job because I got to draw all the time,” she reflects, “and if the dot-com bust had not happened, I would still be there.” As one door closed, however, another opened and allowed her to pursue her ultimate goal: to become a fine artist.
A Bay Area native who eventually settled in Menlo Park, Jill also acknowledges that her career path was never in doubt. “I always knew I was an artist,” she says. Her father owned a lumber yard, so Jill grew up around construction. She started making scale models of furniture as a child, and it seemed natural that she would pursue a degree in interior architectural design. Since this was before the widespread use of computer aided design (CAD) software, Jill had to use all of her drawing abilities. “I used drawing as a form of problem-solving,” she recalls. After completing her degree, she began to seek out ways to expand her skills.
Courtesy of Jill Andre
Jill found an outlet close to home, thanks to Stanford University’s Continuing Studies Program. She enrolled in Edward Stanton’s Master Artist Class in 1999 and returned each year for the next 15 years. The reason for her adherence to the program was Stanton’s unique teaching method. The class, intended for people with art expertise who wanted to draw, used live models but in a rather unorthodox manner. Instead of the model remaining still, Stanton would encourage them to move, dance, perform and take non-traditional poses. “Sometimes there would be props, music or smoke from a smoke machine,” explains Jill. The objective was not to make a realistic rendition but an expression of what they were seeing: “When the model is moving, you make a drawing that is informed by that, but isn’t that. As a result, none of our work looked alike.”
Jill found that the welcoming environment of the class helped her to find her own style.
She works quickly and most of her figures have “tiny heads, elongated torsos and stylized, generalized facial features.” The off-beat life drawing course, which got the nickname “The Drawing Circus,” was more about process than product, although Jill often completed 10 to 15 drawings per class. “What it did was develop a language in each of us, our own language,” she now realizes.
Courtesy of Jill Andre
Those Drawing Circus sketchbooks, all of which Jill kept, would come in handy as she began to pursue a career as a painter. Jill’s work always encompasses the figure and architecture and she still prefers to work with models who move. Using Open Acrylics and clay board (2-inch-deep panels), her figures dance, jump and take yoga poses. She cites David Hockney, Pierre Bonnard, Wayne Thiebaud and Henri Matisse as some of her inspirations and that is evident in her color palette. Jill refers to those sketchbooks, as well as iPad drawings, as a basis for her exuberant canvases. Lately, she has been creating works in a modular fashion, with small panels that fit together, somewhat like a jigsaw puzzle. She pulls up an example in which figures dance and drink champagne. “It’s a picture of a party because I wish I could do that,” she laments, referencing our pandemic isolation.
Essential to every artist is a suitable place to work. Jill brightens when describing her live/work studio in the Mission District of San Francisco. It is a large space with copious amounts of natural light. She is able to hang a lot of her paintings on the walls surrounding her work area, creating a ready-made gallery. This has allowed her to participate in both SF and Silicon Valley open studio programs. She finds, however, that she prefers Instagram as a way to get her work in the public eye.
It is fortunate that Jill’s studio is also a living space because she has, for several years, been overseeing the new build of her family home in the Willows area of Menlo Park. She laughingly describes how she has worked with an architect on the project, “using all of my rendering skills.” She uses rapid visualization to hash out details in a room with her free-hand drawings superimposed, so the architect can understand her suggestions. How does he feel about these revisions? “He loves them!,” she exclaims. “He’ll say, ‘I wish I could draw like that.’” She is hopeful that the project will be completed by summer, in time for her son Beau’s 21st birthday.
Courtesy of @Coreyleephotography
When she is not painting or overseeing a construction project, Jill also teaches art at Palo Alto’s Athena Academy, a private school for dyslexic children. She started out instructing just a few days a week but is now there every day and clearly enjoys it. When she was hired, Jill warned the administrators that she would be a non-traditional instructor. “I don’t teach to a syllabus,” she explains. “Art is my area of expertise. I let the kids make things and then I offer them additional techniques and materials—I am like their assistant.” Although the students are dealing with the challenges of dyslexia, Jill recognizes that they are also natural creators. “The most important thing is that they have some kind of happy moment in their day,” she says.
When asked how she manages to juggle so many roles, Jill is quick to acknowledge that she has help with tasks like accounting and social media, as well as a studio assistant. “I let them do what they do best and I do what I do best,” she says. It’s obviously a wise course of action for the artist, who describes herself as extremely focused: “Once I am in the pool of creativity, I can’t get out.”
That original 2000 setback was, perhaps, a blessing in disguise for Jill Andre. She has achieved her goal of being a working artist with an energizing city studio, and she has also found fulfillment as an art teacher. When asked what the best thing about being an artist is, Jill quickly responds, “Wherever I go I am happy, because when I look at things that interest me I’m off to one of the most fun places I know to go—my imagination.”
Pragmatism and efficiency aren’t commonly associated with creative fields like design; but for Menlo Park-based interior designer Stephanie Zaharias, these attributes complement her creativity and fuel her drive to satisfy her customers. “I embrace my pragmatism,” she says. “I got into this business because I hired an interior designer for our home. She charged us an exorbitant amount of money for throw pillows. That ordeal resulted in our first argument as a married couple—we named it ‘the pillow fight.’”
That pillow fight was a major impetus for Stephanie leaving her busy tech-sales career to pursue a career in design. The career change also provided more flexibility for raising her growing family: “I said to my husband, ‘I’m going to go back to school and learn about landscape architecture and interior design, and even if I don’t end up working in the field, I’ll be able to apply what I’ve learned in our own home.’”
Stephanie is on a mission to make Zaharias Design the antithesis of firms that resort to superfluous billing, and she is sought-after for her streamlined and efficient project management method. Looking back at her 20 years in the design business, she reflects on the consistent growth of her firm, attributing it to her transparency about costs and expectations and service-first approach. “It’s always been a steady stream of projects, each increasing in scope,” she explains.
Stephanie says what distinguishes her from interior designers and home decor influencers who utilize the buzz of social media and press is her approach to obtaining clients. “I don’t put a sign on my job sites with my name. I don’t love self-promotion,” she shares. “I prefer to have a small practice and be selective but not in a pretentious way. Rather, if I’m working with nice people, nice people tend to congregate, so I get referrals that way.”
Looking at Stephanie’s projects, it’s clear that design subtleties like joinery, meticulous seams and uninterrupted lines are some of her trademarks. “My design aesthetic is thoughtful, unexpected and sophisticated but not in a stuffy way. By sophisticated, I mean that the fine details have been studied, so they are cohesive and complementary,” she says. “I don’t like loud bling and abrupt transitions, and I’m not one to follow a trend.”
Stephanie leverages virtual design support such as draftspeople, which allows her to keep her overhead low. Even during uncertain times like 2020 and 2021, she’s been able to manage her various projects and address their needs simultaneously. “Thanks to technology, I’ve had great luck with a talented pool of creatives, distributed all over the country,” she says.
Courtesy of Bernard Andre
Last year’s supply chain issues, which Stephanie sees continuing through 2022, inspired a more robust use of the secondary (consigned or auction items) market. For instance, she filled a recently completed 3,500-square-foot project in Sonoma with approximately 40 percent of the lighting and furnishings sourced from online outfits such as Chairish and 1stDibs. “Because of the pandemic and supply-chain issues and because this project came about very quickly, I had to get even more creative with sourcing,” she says of these sites that offer items that have been gently used or were samples or returns. “Lots of furnishings that can be had on the secondary market aren’t necessarily ‘used’ items. Many are design firm returns or custom items that ended up not suitable for a project.”
The secondary market not only relieves some of the strain from supply-chain issues but it’s also a more sustainable way to furnish a home. Stephanie takes it a step further, saying that using this market is a way to counter what she calls the “copycat effect” of today’s aesthetic in homes. “What’s happened is that because everyone has access to the same key influencers, there’s a copycat effect happening,” she notes. “This buy-it-now approach has fostered a complete imitator aesthetic and deadens the pursuit for individuality.”
Stephanie explains that people are losing interest in “the hunt” for a special interior piece and instead opting for the “one-click” shopping approach without leaving their homes. “It’s a big problem,” she stresses. “Are we all going to live in these identical spaces?” She finds Europe to be trending in the opposite direction, holding firm on the sacrament of individuality within one’s interior space. “I worry that one day only the elite will be interested or have the ability to source bespoke items, creating a wider divide that already exists for design and the services we provide,” she says.
Growing up in the diverse Hollywood Hills area of Los Angeles and living in Europe for a year broadened Stephanie’s view and appreciation for modern architecture. “I follow architects as much as interior designers,” she says of the synergy needed to build and design a cohesive, liveable space.
Courtesy of Paul Dyer
Living on the Peninsula and coming from the world of tech, she understands the need for quiet spaces: “Because of the intense pace of this area, a lot of my clients need calm when they get home. I work really hard to tailor a home to my client’s needs, often an escape from Silicon Valley’s dynamic atmosphere.” Stephanie likes to keep technology out of sight unless otherwise advised and employs techinques like installing outlets in drawers. “I hide as many things as I can,” she says. “My clients love not seeing cords.”
Even as Stephanie designs ways to unplug from technology, she also encourages connection. “When I interview a prospective client,” she notes, “I’ll ask things like how long they linger at the table or whether they like to snuggle on a sectional.”
Using space wisely, regardless of a home’s square footage, is another trademark of Zaharias Design, and one Stephanie personally embraces. “Our family of six has lived in the same smaller home in Menlo Park for 22 years by choice,” she says, “and I make sure that when clients expand, their ability to preserve family intimacy is still there.”
When you ask her about Edward, Lee Harper’s eyes get misty as she reflects on the tight connection they share. “Edward and I are just madly in love. We are so simpatico,” she confides.
“Could he be any more handsome?” Lee asks rhetorically, as she affectionately regards Edward’s scaly yellowish-brown skin, hard protective shell and stubby legs, while hand-feeding his darting tongue a red bell pepper chunk. “When the sun is setting and the sky turns pink,” she continues, “I take Edward out and we go on these long, romantic walks.”
That Edward happens to be a 22-year-old, 180-pound African spurred tortoise seems apropos in this magical setting that goes by the name of Palo Alto Junior Museum & Zoo (JMZ). With her braided thick golden tresses, Lee, a senior zookeeper, looks like she herself has stepped out of the pages of a fairy tale, and indeed, much like Snow White, she’s on a first-name basis with every living creature around her.
“That’s Thor,” she says, introducing us to a hamerkop perched on a railing. “He’s an architect extraordinaire.”
“And that’s Manusela,” she adds, pointing to a clearly extroverted (and screeching) white Moluccan cockatoo. “He’s our stand-up comic until our lemurs arrive.”
Tucked into a corner of Rinconada Park in Palo Alto, the fully reimagined and recently reopened attraction is home to more than 50 species—many allowed to roam freely with visitors. “We call the concept ‘Loose in the Zoo,’” explains John Aikin, JMZ’s executive director who worked his own brand of wizardry to transform the outdated facility. “What I’ve heard from people as they’re looking all around with ibises flying overhead is, ‘I feel so immersed, I feel immersed in their world,’ and I think that makes a big difference. Instead of feeling separate, they are in it.”
Courtesy of Artem Mazarov
The Origin of the Animals
Backing up, the first question that begs to be answered is how did a zoo find its way into a residential Peninsula neighborhood? It all started with the museum, originally founded in 1934 as the first dedicated children’s museum west of the Mississippi—if not in the country. “There was a wave going on that was trying to solve the ills of urbanus by providing activities for children,” supplies John Aikin. “And so this community jumped on that bandwagon and were able to get Works Progress Administration funds to operate the museum for a while.” The museum’s previous structure opened in 1941, and the desire for animals for teaching then led to the creation of a companion zoo in the late 1960s. Per the prevailing style, the facility was built as a “typical 1960s bathtub zoo,” as John describes it. “They wanted everything to go down a drain, so the animals were put in cages and sterile environments.”
Although a beloved community fixture, the museum and zoo clearly lagged behind as needs and cultural norms shifted to embrace accessibility, natural habitats and living landscapes. A former director of conservation at San Francisco Zoo, John joined JMZ in 2008 with a mandate to take the Palo Alto facility to the next level. “It had a connection to the community like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and I fell in love with the place,” John recalls. “When I was hired, the head of community services and the city manager both looked at me and said, ‘This place needs to be rebuilt, it needs to be accredited and it’s got to be funded by the private sector and you’re the guy to do it.’”
Reimagining a Zoo
When the Palo Alto Junior Museum & Zoo reopened on November 12, 2021, it marked the culmination of an exhaustive community initiative that took more than a decade. Ultimately designed by CAW Architects in Palo Alto and s
Courtesy of Artem Mazarov
pread across three acres, the $33 million project nearly doubled the facility’s footprint—made possible by $25 million in funding raised by Friends of the Palo Alto Junior Museum & Zoo and another $8 million contributed by the City of Palo Alto. At 15,200 square feet, the main museum building features interactive exhibits that invite exploration of natural phenomena like gravity, motion, force, electricity and balance. “What the exhibit designers try to do is to get kids to use all of their senses,” John explains. “Kids learn more when their curiosity is engaged.”
From the indoor exhibit space, a vibrant passage, designed as an homage to the great zoo gates of Europe, beckons visitors to step outside. Under a lofty outdoor netted enclosure lies the 18,800-square-foot aviary-style zoo, with eight distinctive exhibit areas: Big Treehouse, Meerkat Canyon, Raccoon Creek, Underwater Tunnel, What Lives in that Hole, Rabbit Meadow, Tortoise Hill, Macaw Tree, Water Bird Pond and Wildlife Circle. That first element, the Big Treehouse, effectively ties the space together through a sprawling, whimsical network of ladders, rope bridges, crawling tubes and viewing platforms. “It’s about kids relating to the animals, having empathy for the animals, trying to understand them from their point of view,” John relays. “What we’re trying to do is help them frame questions up here. What does it take to be a canopy animal? You have to be brave, you have to be able to grasp, you’ve got to be able to climb, you’ve got to balance. And so they’re doing all of that up here.”
As for the facility’s central theme, what exactly does it mean to be “Loose in the Zoo?” With the exception of a few species, the birds and animals—whether they’re pet and wildlife rescues or brought in from accredited zoos—move about freely. Walking down a pathway, you’ll see fulvous whistling ducks tucked in for an afternoon nap near the water’s edge, nod to a brilliantly-plumaged peacock in passing and look skyward at the sound of scarlet ibises soaring immediately overhead.
Which, um, triggers another question: Isn’t there a risk factor walking under all these birds? John is quick to provide reassurance. “As a person who has taken care of birds and worked with birds all his life, I know about bird poop—when they poop, how they poop and where they poop,” he says. “Most birds won’t poop when they’re flying, so there are actually only a few birds that do poop on people.”
With that in mind, John strategically positioned the zoo’s tree branches away from pathways to ensure safe passage for visitors and staff below. “This place is so perfectly orchestrated,” confirms longtime zookeeper Lee Harper. “I have never ever been pooped on, nor have I ever seen any guests get pooped on.”
Courtesy of Artem Mazarov
Come and Get It!
One of nature’s other basic instincts—the need to eat—helps foster an even closer connection between the wild and human species here. In the exhibit area known as Wildlife Circle, through a progressive series of sounds, zookeepers formally announce meal time and make it an interactive experience. “Wildlife Circle is the place that we have trained all the birds to come for food,” John explains. “They’re each trained to a different percussion instrument so we can call them in by species.”
The meerkats wait for the bell. For Thor, the hamerkop, it’s a click, click, click. Violet, the African spoonbill, responds to a honk, and Apu, the peacock, starts salivating at the reverberation of cymbals. Beyond the visual spectacle, it’s an intimate educational opportunity, as visitors who volunteer to help at feeding time quickly discover. “Flamingos are filter feeders, so they use pumping action,” observes John. “When you’re feeding them, you can feel them using their tongues to pump water through their bill systems.”
When an African spoonbill is gently nibbling a piece of tasty fish out of your palm, it’s easy to romanticize the role of a zookeeper, but Lee thinks it’s important to provide a realistic perspective. Originally starting as a volunteer (she estimates 4,000 hours), Lee chased her passion when transitioning into a part-time zookeeping role 11 years ago. “Zookeeping is not for the faint of heart,” she discloses. “To the public, it looks like you get to be Dr. Doolittle, but there’s a lot involved behind the scenes.” Preparing meals. Cleaning enclosures. Landscaping. Repairing exhibits. Monitoring animal health. Demonstrations. “You’re always hustling,” she says. “It is heavy-duty, hard, hard, work.”
That being said, Lee never tires of the staff’s camaraderie and the countless inspirational moments that punctuate each day—heightened by the facility’s commitment to being the most accessible zoo possible. She continues to volunteer in her off-hours and relishes the magic that happens after the doors close each night. “Even though you’d think I would take it for granted, every time I enter, I feel transported. The guests have left, the sun is setting, the moon is rising and all the animals are out,” she describes. “There are flamingos walking around, and I become so emotional because it feels like I’m in a dream. I’ll take Edward out, and we’ll go watch the fish together. It’s exactly like Night at the Museum—it does have that magic.”
Courtesy of Artem Mazarov
All in the Neighborhood
When JMZ reopened in late 2021 after two years of construction, John admits to holding his breath—wondering if the vision they worked tirelessly toward would fully be realized. He recalls the relief he felt after leading Dick Peery, one of the zoo’s major donors, on a walk through the “Loose in the Zoo” exhibit experience: “At the end of the tour, he said, ‘John, I’ve seen flamingos before but I have never seen flamingos before.’ When they look you in the eye, it really changes the way you think about flamingos.”
For Lee, witnessing and helping foster the multi-generational engagement with this landmark facility is especially rewarding. “Not only have people grown up in the zoo, their kids have grown up here and now, they’re bringing their grandkids and great-grandkids,” she says. Lee also emphasizes that when it comes to visiting the zoo, inclusivity extends to everyone—regardless of age. “With older adults, it could be very simple to say, ‘Oh, feeding the flamingos is only for children,’ but that’s not what’s happening,” she smiles. “We’re a children’s museum and a neighborhood zoo.”
If meals begin with the eyes, then feast upon the artwork displayed inside these eateries.
quail + crane
San Francisco International Airport
Dangling above the dining area inside the Grand Hyatt at SFO’s restaurant is the installation The Infinite Gateway of Time and Circumstances by Jacob Hashimoto. The interwoven canopy creates an impression of drifting in and out of visibility through clouds, much like an airplane, and is representative of the hotel’s extensive public art collection of paintings, sculptures and mosaics. With a combination of Eastern and Western influences, choose from dishes that range from ramen and dumplings to oven-roasted fish and meats. Suddenly, picking your friend up from the airport doesn’t sound like such a chore. 55 South McDonnell Road. Open daily from 6AM to 11AM; 5PM to 10:30PM
Courtesy of Irene Searles
flea street
Menlo Park
It’s only fitting that a staple of Menlo Park’s dining scene should have walls adorned with the town’s most celebrated contemporary painter—one who lives merely a mile from the restaurant. Jesse Cool’s Flea Street and artist Mitchell Johnson team up yet again to display his works of colorful Americana on the restaurant’s walls in an exhibit running through mid-April. As the winter season begins to thaw, allow a thoughtful menu of fresh, organic and local ingredient-driven selections from chef de cuisine Bryan Thuerk to accompany the views of Mitchell’s brilliant landscapes and abstractions. 3607 Alameda de las Pulgas. Open Tuesday through Saturday from 5PM to 8PM. Closed Sunday and Monday.
Courtesy of Jessica Sample
roger
Mountain View
Before you even lift your glass, you’re treated to a new angle of our solar system. On the wall of The Ameswell Hotel’s Roger Bar and Restaurant is a series of mosaic astral images from Palo Alto’s Ala Ebtekar that uses negatives from the Hubble telescope. The hotel’s eclectic art collection, which is augmented by a virtual QR code tour, is curated by owner Philip (Flip) Maritz to reflect the region’s creative genius and natural beauty. Paired with the art is a menu cultivated from local partnerships with The Midwife and The Baker’s bread, Mary’s Chicken and Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch to emphasize marinated proteins and seasonal vegetables with bright salads. 800 Moffett Boulevard. Open for dinner Tuesday through Sunday from 5PM to 10PM; for the bar from 4PM to 12AM; and for brunch on the weekends from 10AM to 2:30PM. Closed Monday.
Owner Harry Johal carefully selects a Pinot Noir and pours a crimson colored glass for customers at his tasting bar at The Wine Stop in Burlingame. He relays how the independent wine shop evolved over decades to become a local fixture. “Some customers have dealt with all three generations of our family,” explains Harry. “They still call once a month to see what’s new even though they have moved to the East coast.” As a third generation manager of the family-owned business, Harry cites lessons from his grandfather and father who steered the store through the changing wine and spirits industry for over 35 years.
One of just a handful of businesses to survive in downtown Burlingame since the mid-1980s, The Wine Stop offers Peninsula residents a place to discuss wine pairing, learn about different varieties and taste. “While we carry wines from around the world, our focus is on Napa and Sonoma wines,” he underscores. “We are very fortunate that they are right in our backyard and making some of the finest wines in the world right now. From a price to value ratio, I would put them up against French or Italian wine anytime.”
Image by Paulette Phlipot
While Napa Cabernet remains one of Harry’s favorites, he sees a trend in Cabernet Franc and Petit Syrah making a comeback with wine lovers. He also notes an uptick in interest in sparkling wine and champagne. In terms of value, Harry points to Argentina and Spain for pallet-pleasing wines at competitive prices.
Over the years, Harry and his father knew they needed to expand the business to keep pace with the fast growing California wine industry. “My grandfather started the business in 1985 on Burlingame Avenue and it was heavily spirits driven. That’s just how the clientele was back then,” notes Harry. “When my father came into the business he split the store and put a wall in between the spirits and the fine wines and that is when we got into California wines.”
Their story reveals a longstanding relationship with wineries and wine makers that’s allowed The Wine Stop to attract a large following: their newsletter now reaches over 100,000 subscribers across the U.S. “My dad recalls the time during a recession when the owner of Caymus winery Chuck Wagner sold 600 cases of wine to us at a great price,” says Harry. “Chuck went back and forth from Napa in his jeep making deliveries to The Wine Stop for days. He is now one of the top winemakers in the world.”
Raised on the Peninsula, Harry attended local schools including Burlingame High School. In college, he remained local, developing a strong knowledge of wine, while earning a business degree at Menlo College. “I started tasting wine when I was nine years old,” he remembers. “My dad said just make sure you spit it out.” While attending Menlo College, Harry put his skills to the test and joined the college wine club, which competed internationally: “I have a bit of a knack for tasting. When I first joined, I participated in a blind tasting with six whites and three reds and I nailed every wine to the varietal. After I got all of the wine right they said I could join the team.” Shortly after college, he started helping his father and really applied himself to buying for the store and meeting the winemakers on many trips to Napa and Sonoma.
Image by Paulette Phlipot
To say The Wine Stop is a family affair is an understatement. Harry with the help of his brother, Indy, runs the business along with Harry’s wife Sarina who plays a major role. “Sarina helps quite a bit with setting up events, working with distributors and managing all of the emails and newsletter.” The parents of three children with the youngest only nine months old, Harry and Sarina still find time to sample wines in the evening. “The children are always interested and they hear my dad, my brother and me discussing wine.” Although retired, Harry’s father gives his input often in a morning email. “My father comes in and looks at the shelves,” he smiles, “and asks me why I am not carrying certain wines.”
Image by Paulette Phlipot
With a reputation for a keen knowledge of wines locally and abroad, Harry enjoys offering pairing suggestions to customers. “I pride myself in picking the right wine for a customer who asks what to serve with short ribs for instance. Then I like hearing how it works out,” he emphasizes. “We will tell you the story of every label including the winemaker and the vineyard sourcing. We can get into details about it.”
The spirits side of the business continues to grow as well with many handcrafted brands available. “The bourbon craze is a huge trend and we can’t keep it in stock,” underscores Harry. “We have to limit sales of certain brands to one bottle per household. Rum is another area we expect to grow in 2022. There are a lot of rum aficionados around.”
The Wine Stop offers tastings Monday through Saturday from noon to 6PM. In addition, throughout the year, they host wine tasting events featuring representatives from local wineries. “Our tastings are usually complementary and we want to do more educational tastings in 2022 for our customers to learn about wines in different regions,” adds Harry. “One of the things I love about the wine business is that it is always changing. I am glad we have stayed in downtown Burlingame and that we feel a part of the community.”
Had things turned out differently, Mademoiselle Colette patisserie would be wowing customers with their flaky, buttery croissants and elegant entremets in central Texas, instead of here on the Peninsula.
“I almost opened Mademoiselle Colette in Austin,” recalls founder and proprietor, Débora Ferrand. “Everything was ready to go: I had the space, the permits, my business plan.” But at the eleventh hour—after two years of intense research and business planning—her husband was offered a worth-moving-for career opportunity in the Bay Area.
While some people might have given up or stowed their dreams for a later date, Débora was determined to open her business sooner than later. After she and her husband and their four boys settled into their new home on the Peninsula in 2014, she started the arduous process of finding a home for Mademoiselle Colette as well.
Image by Paulette Phlipot
The time-consuming search took her from San Mateo to Mountain View with no luck. And then: a ray of light. Literally. “When I entered the space in Menlo Park,” she recalls, “it was early in the morning—and the sun, you know, just invaded. Everything was sparkling inside.” Friends and colleagues suggested she consider looking elsewhere, but “I really felt it was a good choice,” says Débora.
Determination seems to be in the Brazilian native’s DNA. From childhood, she dreamed of moving to France, and at age 18 put her university studies on pause and relocated to Paris. She began working in the fashion industry as a model and completed her university education in psychology. Despite the perks of modeling, she found the work itself boring; a career in food had piqued her interest.
A decade into her fashion career, “I started to work in parallel in the food business,” she says, gaining front-of-the-house experience in restaurants. She also pursued a culinary education, taking classes at the famed École Lenôtre and completing Le Cordon Bleu’s professional patisserie diploma program. The transition from fashion to pastry made sense. “For me, it’s the beauty,” she notes. “And after that, you have an amazing experience.”
Visual details are part of the Mademoiselle Colette experience, including the shop’s décor, which Débora designed herself. The result combines the elegance of an old-school Parisian patisserie with the comfortable feel of a neighborhood bistro. Dominating the space is a glass-fronted marble counter, displaying the exquisite selection of pastries. Small tables with café chairs invite customers to sit and enjoy a croissant or croque madame for breakfast or linger over a salad or slice of quiche and a glass of wine for lunch. Decorative accessories that Débora acquired from antique fairs over the years add a personal touch.
While some customers assume the shop is named eponymously—“everyone calls me Colette now, it’s so funny,” she remarks—Débora named the shop for two Colettes: her late mother-in-law and the author Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette. Of the latter, Débora says, “She represents a lot of things that speak to me. She was a very free woman and very modern for her time.”
When Mademoiselle Colette opened in Menlo Park in 2015, customers were lined up outside the door, and everything sold out before noon. “It was magic,” Débora shares. “At the same time, I was very worried to see how we would handle this from now on. We were not expecting this at all.”
Realizing that her small kitchen would not be able to meet the demands of the growing clientele, Débora sought a larger commercial kitchen that could accommodate production. In 2016 she found a 6,000-square-foot space in Newark—much bigger than she had envisioned. But a space that size invited possibilities. “I said, ‘Okay, I have a kitchen like this; we need to open other locations,’” she recalls.
Image by Paulette Phlipot
In 2017, she opened Mademoiselle Colette Palo Alto and in 2019, Mademoiselle Colette Redwood City. The look and feel is the same across all three locations, but each has its own personality. “I kept the same color, same kind of counter,” she says. “But all the rest is unique, because at each shop everything was picked by hand.”
Regardless of the location, pastry is front and center. Almond croissants are among the bestsellers, as is Débora’s favorite, chausson aux pommes, a buttery, flaky puff pastry turnover that encases a not-too-sweet apple filling. For a teatime indulgence or special occasion, choose one of the pretty, petite entremets—like the light, tropical Le Voyage, an assemblage of lemon sponge, mango cream and passion fruit coulis. A must-have for chocoholics is the aptly-named Entremet Chocolat, a compact study in chocolate with a surprising caramel center.
The attention to detail that is evident in the products starts with their ingredients. Local, organic and seasonal choices are the priority as much as possible, with farms like San Martin’s Spade & Plow providing produce. One of the few imported ingredients is French butter (beurre d’Isigny), essential for croissants and puff pastry and chosen specifically for its flavor and butterfat.
Coming into 2020, Débora was on track to open more Mademoiselle Colettes, but pandemic closures forced a revision of that plan. Within two weeks of the shutdown, Débora and her team had pivoted to takeout and delivery options and have maintained both, even after reopening to dine-in customers.
She is now working on the next evolution of Mademoiselle Colette, which includes hiring, training and team-building. In October 2021 Débora hired Simon Pacary, award-winning former pastry chef of Michelin-starred Le Parc Franck Putelat in France, to fill the executive chef role at the Newark location, where he will manage the kitchen team and oversee pastry production.
Image by Paulette Phlipot
“I would like to bring Colette to another level of pastry,” says Débora. “And I was looking for a special chef that has the same vision as me. When I met Simon it was crazy—it was a good connection.” Recipe testing is in the works, with the goal of introducing more classic French pastries and featuring a monthly special creation from Simon.
The past seven years have been a whirlwind of successes, challenges and adaptations. “I’ve learned a lot of things, and it’s been a very enriching experience. I’m proud of what we did; I have an amazing management team, and I’m very lucky,” says Débora. For the foreseeable future, she’ll focus on catering, online retail and high-end wholesale to restaurants and hotels. And another Mademoiselle Colette location isn’t out of the question. “Maybe one more,” she says with a laugh, “because I love the projects.”
The 90 miles of coastline that cradles Big Sur is an assembly of the elements. One side has vast forestation sprung from craggy peaks that tumble westward for the inevitable cascade into the Pacific. At this crux lies the iconic roadway offering up continuous vistas for beholding the splendor.
No surprise that Big Sur is still considered “the greatest meeting of land and water in the world” more than 100 years after watercolorist Francis McComas first coined the enduring description. Some beauty is untethered to age.
An afternoon of absorbing fresh perspectives demands a sunset of internal contemplation and no other venue on the Big Sur coastline is better suited for this activity than the natural baths formed by hot springs found along the cliffs within the Esalen Institute. Eye to eye with a setting sun, I’m floating in tranquility while engrossed in the elements.
Pretty soon I’m met with a startling juxtaposition. I hover in a heavenly pose as thunderous waves crash far beneath me—amplified by a clever design in acoustics created by the cement structure to reverberate the ocean waves—all the while inhaling a foul stench emitted by the all-natural, sulfuric hot springs.
Even in heaven, I muse quietly to myself, is the smell of hell. The odor is minor and fleeting against the wind as a weekend in Big Sur presents itself with the new light of an inbound day.
Courtesy of Aila Ventana Big Sur
A Bed of California Stars
You wouldn’t visit New York City to then sleep on Staten Island, so why limit your evenings in Big Sur to anything short of excellence?
The Alila Ventana Big Sur takes center stage along the coast and sits perched above its cliff-hugging neighbor, the Post Ranch Inn.
The Ventana is an intimate retreat that reveals an ambiance of relaxation as you climb the winding road from Highway 1 onto its 160-acre property. Complementing the region’s diverse natural offerings, there are rolling meadows, groves of redwoods and a constant oceanic view. Two dining options, the Big Sur Smokehouse and The Sur House, sit within the property to create a holistic experience with no need to wander far.
Leaving nothing else to be desired, my room provided numerous avenues for serenity, from the egg-shaped bathtub to a personal three-foot hot tub. The suites are thoughtfully decorated to reflect the arboreal presence outdoors and a repetitive symbol of circles creates a consistent sense of unity. The plush bathrobes provide a hooded covering to promote privacy when passing through the grounds, suggesting that guests of the Ventana may be of certain celebrity stature. (Rumors of a recent visit by a world-famous country-pop star were swiftly confirmed.)
Courtesy of Alila Ventana Big Sur
Tapping into the experiential travel market, the Ventana has begun offering a variety of excursions that range from guided tours of Jack Kerouac’s former stomping grounds to mushroom foraging in the nearby undergrowth. I opted for an afternoon in the surrounding oak tree forest with Master Falconer Antonio, who introduced me to his roster of raptors.
The Falconry experience began with an engaging biology lesson to understand how these birds of prey hunt to feed. Antonio explained the traps of anthropomorphism—or the attribution of human qualities onto an animal—advocating to maintain a sense of separation between us and them.
However, the falconer’s enthusiasm suggested otherwise as he released his Harris hawk named Aerial into the thicket. Antonio positioned me in front of his black glove and summoned the hawk towards us. He told me to maintain eye contact and imagine how this visual, of the hawk suddenly appearing through the brush with outreached claws, is the final sight for unfortunate prey.
I was bedazzled by the perspective and smiled as Antonio admitted how he imagines flying vicariously through his birds. Some anthropomorphism, it would appear, is undeniable.
The magnificence of Big Sur is not shrouded in the dark for that’s when the minimal light pollution provides an opportunity for expansive stargazing. I joined Tara after dinner for a stroll through the countryside in an illuminating Starbathing experience.
Although it was winter, she identified the Summer Triangle with Vega shining the brightest and answered my stream of inquiries about the timeless narratives built around the shapes in the constellations.
Tara is a Big Sur lifer and spoke to how living here forces you to embrace all the elements. See a busted water pipe? Fix it now because each property has its own water system as there’s no municipal network or governance. Or if you come upon an accident on Highway 1, stop to help because the closest ambulance might be 45 minutes away.
The spirit of connectivity isn’t a marketing ploy for the residents of Big Sur, rather, a necessity for their longevity.
Courtesy of Alila Ventana Big Sur
Chews with Views
Just about every eatery along Big Sur comes with a panorama but only one has the outlook seen from the terrace encircling Nepenthe. The historic restaurant (even Kerouac sang its praises in print) offers classic American grub such as their Ambrosia Burger, a ground steak sandwich served on a French roll with their notable ambrosia sauce. Add a pint of the Mai Tai IPA from Alvarado Street Brewery (from just outside the region in Monterey) to earn all the local points.
While staying at the Ventana, the dinners and breakfasts at The Sur House are delicious with a mushroom risotto entrée that hits the perfect umami notes while a scrumptious French toast initiates the day with a rich brioche bread from the Lafayette Bakery in Carmel.
Deetjen’s Big Sur Inn is often considered the oldest business still in operation and part of this success is due to the charming, dimly-lit restaurant located inside a former barn. Relics from generations past adorn the walls and the tables are neatly set with an interior designer’s touch. The menu adapts with the bounty of the day’s produce and I opted for the mouthwatering chicken dish accompanied by a bottle of red wine to wind down my evening.
Courtesy of Alila Ventana Big Sur
Lace Up
I followed a local’s recommendation to Andrew Molera State Beach for a hike to the ocean. Just minutes from embarking, a rushing river overtook the trail. I hiked up my pants and with socks and shoes in hand, trekked through the cold waters towards the riparian edge. The hike was mostly flat and weaved through a meadowed landscape and I kept Antonio’s advice for spotting raptors in mind while peering over the treetops.
The path leads to a remote beach where the Big Sur River feeds into the sea. Along the beach were man-made structures formed of driftwood to offer respite from the howling winds.
Further south along the highway reveals a short hike to the McWay Falls, a waterfall that flows out of the forest onto the beach. It’s a minimal jaunt that’s ideal for anyone seeking views without the price of a hill climb or time constraints.
The abundance of nature encourages a macro perspective; however, for more introspective thinking or a chance to work on your personal development, the schedule at Esalen is updated weekly and replete with yoga and classes for mindfulness. The nonprofit is a Zen-friendly retreat center with a rich past of visitors and faculty.
I took the Saturday afternoon “Your Big Breakthrough Session” with Justin Michael Williams, who gently guided us through exercises to pursue our personal goals. He promoted a “yes-and” approach to life rather than stymieing ourselves with insecurities or doubt.
We ended with a singalong and a group of strangers began feeling strangely familiar. I headed for the door and with the Pacific by my side, ventured northbound again, but at a meandering pace.
Elite athletes may attempt to tune out the noise to focus on the hustle but for ultra-runners Leor Pantilat and Erica Namba, every sensory in-take contributes to the run.
The married couple are elite backcountry endurance runners who have finished first in multiple local races and set speed records on some of the most gorgeous trails in the state. They’ve run over 50-mile distances in competition and have gone even farther just for the fun and a chance to test their athletic limits.
By day, Erica works as a physical therapist for the County of San Mateo and Leor is a corporate counsel for Robert Half. For 15 years, Leor has been an ambassador with the outdoor brand La Sportiva, which has helped sponsor his endless endurance. The couple reside in San Carlos and have just welcomed their
first child, a baby daughter
who’s already earning her miles on the trail—swaddled inside a baby carrier.
On their runs, the two aspire to a headspace enveloped by the elements. Erica would never think to plug in music when the symphony of the chirping birds is more than enough. Meanwhile, Leor can become so enthralled by the outdoors that time seems to melt away.
“Sometimes it’s just, wow, I just did an 18-hour adventure—what did I think about? Not much,” he admits, laughing.
The two met in 2012 via OK Cupid (“I tell people I ordered him off the Internet,” Erica quips.) and married in 2017. Their weekends often include remote trails, a symphony of foot strikes and if they’re lucky, charting a path towards an outlying alpine lake to float atop the icy waters, becoming utterly engulfed in the natural world.
PUNCH caught up with the two ultra-runners (and their newborn) for a chat about the runner’s high, how to promote the best trail etiquettes and why the Peninsula is the ideal region for their tireless endeavors.
Courtesy of Leor Pantilat and Erica Namba
I read that one of your favorite running spots is Woodside’s Huddart Park—is that still a favorite and what strikes you about it?
Leor: How peaceful it is. It’s almost entirely forested there, a mix of redwoods and Douglas fir. There are creeks, it’s rarely ever busy and there are miles of trails. You can connect into other parks from there and it’s near where we live so we don’t have to travel far. And we both love Edgewood. Erica is a volunteer there.
Erica: Edgewood is my favorite park around here because of the biodiversity and all the native plants. Every evening when we go out there, you never know what you’ll see. A lot of times you’ll see hares, bobcats and tons of deer. It’s just such a gem. It really showcases what the Peninsula was like before development—and it’s a really important piece of land for us to preserve.
You promote recreating responsibly. Of course, we always hear ‘pack it in, pack it out’ and ‘leave no trace behind,’ but what does this mean to you?
Erica: I worked at Philmont Scout Ranch in 2005, and that was my first wilderness experience. It was kind of a crash course and the gold standard of how you should behave in the wilderness. Eventually moving on and being an outdoor enthusiast, you witness so many infringements. Like, can we just throw orange peels? It’s like, ‘Oh yeah, it’s biodegradable.’ But then you read about it more and how it takes two years for that to biodegrade. We live in a densely populated area and if we all just did what we wanted, then we wouldn’t have these pristine lands to enjoy for everyone.
Leor: In Russian Ridge, we see people cutting the switchbacks and part of recreating responsibly is to stay on the trail because otherwise a used path becomes an actual path before you know it.
Erica: I think it takes 17 people to pass through one pristine area for it to become a path. Oh, I hear the baby crying. [Erica leaves to retrieve their daughter.] We are addicted to our lifestyle so it was really hard to transition to having a baby, but we kind of see it as a new beginning to explore things that we’ve already done with new eyes.
Leor: We try and do a hike with her every single day, seriously. And right now it’s in a carrier, but soon she’ll graduate to a stroller or backpack. Hopefully she’ll love nature as much as we do.
Courtesy of Leor Pantilat and Erica Namba
If she’s out hiking daily, is that even a question?
Erica: That’s why we live on the Peninsula. You know, we don’t need to live on the Peninsula. Leor can work remotely and I’m a physical therapist at the San Mateo Medical Center. I can find work anywhere. But we love the nature here and the ease of getting to these beautiful, world-class trails on a daily basis. And then being able to hit the mountains on the weekends.
Is a runner’s high something that you feel each time you go out or is this something that you’re searching for?
Erica: I don’t get it every run but I’m coming back from having this baby. When you hit that runner’s high, usually it’s a combination of all your muscles and joints being in this perfect length/tension relationship. And you’ve probably got this beautiful scenery that looks extra beautiful and the sky just opens up. That’s the feeling that’s just priceless. I think we both go out into every run that we embark on with the hopes that we hit that. There are plenty of runner’s highs to be had in these Peninsula hills.
Courtesy of Leor Pantilat and Erica Namba
What’s a fresh goal that you’re currently working on?
Leor: Public access to public lands is a huge priority for me. I joined the Ventana Wilderness Alliance board and there are a lot of issues down in the Big Sur area with public access, whether it be unreasonable post-fire closures or locals wanting to just cut off access to public beaches or lands.
Erica: And he’s gotten really into learning about all the species in all these places that we visit. He’s just totally engrossed in it all.
Leor: I enjoy meteorology and ecology, especially conifers, they’re my favorites: endemic conifers to California. When you visit these places, at some point you want to learn more about them—peel back a layer. Not just run with your head down, you want to learn the beautiful trees that I’m seeing along the trail or when can I expect the thunderstorm to avoid putting myself in an unsafe situation? You start to want to know more about meteorology, the plant communities and the animals and their characteristics.
A source of inspiration. That’s what it means to be a muse, and it’s a role I take quite seriously. I come from the streets of Los Angeles, but luckily, I was placed in a shelter and then rescued by Wags and Walks, which led to my “exhibition” on petfinder.com. How did I end up in Palo Alto? It’s important to understand that long-time figurative art collectors Pamela and David are drawn to interesting people and complex faces. As Pamela explains, “One reason I am drawn to the figure is that each one tells a story.” When she looked at my whiskered, hopeful face, Pamela felt a zing of connection and decided to transform my bleak beginnings into a bright new chapter. In 2013, Pamela and David brought me home to the Peninsula, forever intertwining my life with theirs and the stimulating world of art acquisition. They’ve given me so much, but I’ve brought them equal measures of happiness—to the point that I’ve inspired them to explore the dog-human bond in art. “I never imagined that I could become so obsessed with collecting the art of dogs,” Pamela says, “but I also never would have imagined how much this tiny little rescue dog would change our lives.” That’s how I became a muse for artists—with works ranging from commissions to cameos—and I frequent galleries, art shows and Instagram (@pamelahornik). In an expression of gratitude, my image can even be found on the wall at the Wags and Walks Adoption Center in Los Angeles. Pamela and David now have dozens of pieces—by artists like David Hockney, Alex Katz and Jordan Casteel—and hope to stage a show some day so they can share what they’ve discovered: “Dog art brings people joy.”
Photographer Gino De Grandis captured this Perfect Shot while teaching a night photography class by the Shoreline Trail in Burlingame. “The idea was to capture the aircraft’s takeoff lights perfectly passing behind the control tower,” he notes. “The image is so sharp that you can even see the monitors inside the control tower.” Gino adds that the camera was set on a tripod: 400mm lens, 8 seconds exposure, aperture 5/6 ISO 100.
Growing up in East Los Angeles, as one of four children of Vietnamese refugees, Rosy Cohen knew that though her opportunities seemed limited, she would achieve her aspirations to become a lifelong learner and educator. “My mom worked her butt off with resilience and grit, taking two buses to work and back each day,” she recalls. “She taught me to be resourceful and optimistic—and education was always deeply valued in my childhood home.”
At 14, Rosy worked as the bookkeeper for her family’s nail salon, drawing further inspiration when her older sister attended Harvard University. Coming from a background of under-resourced schools, Rosy credits enrichment programs and inspiring teachers and mentors with helping her cross from East to West L.A., where she became a first-generation graduate of UCLA. Along the way, Rosy recognized that learning was more than just standardized tests. To be a “thinker, doer and maker,” as she likes to say, requires immersing yourself in creative endeavors that not only teach skills but also build confidence, team-building and community.
However, after graduation, Rosy put her love of education on the back burner to take a position in business, making it possible to pay off her student loans and secure financial stability. Over the next 20 years, she built a successful career in finance, married her husband Josh and began to raise a family—initially in San Francisco before moving to Burlingame in 2010. “Even though I was comfortable on the corporate track,” she recalls, “a nagging voice kept calling me to pause, reevaluate and explore.” In 2019, Rosy gave herself permission to do just that.
Image by Annie Barnett
She found herself thinking back on her early love of education—and how profoundly she had benefited from enrichment programs in her community. Beyond school and home, Rosy envisioned creating a “third place” where students could find stimulation, challenge and support. From that vision, Grupology was born. Initially teaching classes out of her garage, Rosy began to partner with local schools to teach enrichment classes like entrepreneurship on campuses. When the pandemic hit and schools shut down, Rosy quickly pivoted her approach. “I wanted to do online learning at some point—I just didn’t realize I’d be doing it so quickly,” she says of the switch. “I love human connection and doing things hands-on, but we had to shift.”
During the height of the pandemic in February 2021, Rosy took another chance by opening a brick and mortar while growing Grupology’s online presence. “I’m an optimist,” she says, “and I knew, at some point, we were going to get out of this.” It became clear that both learning platforms were warranted. “Everyone’s child learns differently, so having online and in-person instruction has been ideal,” she adds. “Parents appreciate the flexibility to be remote. I get a lot of positive feedback from parents, saying, ‘Rosy, we just want our kids to love learning again.’”
Grupology’s physical space on Chapin Avenue, tucked away behind Burlingame Avenue businesses like Delfina, presents a distinctly different K-8 learning environment. There’s a calmness when you enter, with unadorned white walls that serve as a blank canvas for emerging creators. “I don’t like sensory overload for the children,” explains Rosy.
Image by Annie Barnett
Large picture windows bring in natural light, and two window benches, full of cozy pillows, entice young readers and journalers. In Grupology’s curated bookstore, students can explore titles and read them at their leisure before or after class. A maker lab is filled with thousands of KEVA blocks, and there’s a variety of spaces designated for teaching core and elective classes. Similar to a tech company’s conference room, at the head of a large modular table is a 55” flatscreen. This is where Grupology’s hybrid (remote and in-person) classes take place. “Offering hybrid learning has been great. Students can take classes with a cousin or friend in another part of the world,” Rosy says of the connections that shared learning can build.
The majority of students who take in-person classes come from local public schools with the company’s virtual programming drawing students from San Jose to Marin. Conceptualizing a creative, interactive curriculum around basic skills like math and writing is not easy, but it’s what Rosy sees as her company’s differentiator from other learning centers or tutoring sites. “We are the anti-Kumon,” she emphasizes. “We don’t do rote memorization. Learning is not a linear process.”
For instance, International Spy School, a class that Rosy teaches, incorporates geography, math, critical thinking and collaboration as the kids act like spies and travel around the world solving top-secret missions. After a 15-year career in derivatives trading, Rosy’s husband, Josh, also pivoted to become Grupology’s full-time math teacher and curriculum developer, and leads Grupology’s math department. A lemonade stand is used to learn about budgets—and math is applied to the real world through subjects like financial literacy, sports analysis and election math.
Rosy is also proud of Grupology’s writing curriculum, saying, “You hear a lot about STEM, but there aren’t a lot of places where kids can explore writing. The poetry that kids are producing from our Poetry & Perspective class is amazing!” Grupology emphasizes the full writing process, meaning that editing and revising are integral steps to finishing. “As we build out our writing program, we realize that we have to get these kids to write and then sit down and provide feedback on voice or construction,” she says. “It’s not just about seeing that red ink—we’re very thoughtful about how we provide feedback.”
Living on the Peninsula, Rosy feels fortunate to have access to a rich pool of teachers, mathematicians, technologists and business leaders. Applying real-world expertise from her business career, she’s been successful at assembling a team of subject matter experts from a wide range of backgrounds. “It’s the chance to be a professor for a few hours without a full-time commitment,” she points out, “so it’s an enriching opportunity for them as well.”
Rosy views her own growth as an educator as an integral part of Grupology’s growth, gleaning insights through Nueva’s Innovative Learning Conferences, along with other intensive training programs.
Rosy and Josh’s children (now in fifth and sixth grades) are also entrenched in Grupology’s campus. “We are lucky that our boys are not embarrassed by us,” Rosy shares, “so they take classes with mom and dad too.” Advanced chess players, their sons also participate as junior coaches in training. Two years after Grupology’s launch, Rosy is gratified by the progress she sees kids making every day. “We love helping students understand the ‘why’ in learning,” she says, “and I will always be on a journey to spark joy in learners.”
Growing up on the Peninsula, Greg Alden noticed that his day-to-day life carried a noticeably different flavor than steeped-in-tech Silicon Valley. “Some of my earliest memories are of sneaking the Andes chocolate mints from the housekeeping carts when no one was looking,” he recalls with a smile. “I remember driving to a hotel with a new mattress on the roof of our Volvo station wagon because Room 13 needed a new bed and wondering why someone would take the time to fold the end of the toilet paper roll into such a nice triangle shape.”
That Greg was born into the hospitality business is a truism—and one that resonates even more deeply in 2022, as he continues to steer through tumultuous (and yes, ‘unprecedented’) times in the hotel industry. The milestone 50th birthday that Greg’s been anticipating perfectly coincides with the 50th anniversary of Woodside Hotel Group, the collection of independent hotels boldly started by his parents in 1972.
“I was born the year the company was founded,” Greg affirms. “My formative years of growing up were the formative years of my parents building this business and they just kind of went in lockstep.”
Courtesy of Travis Watts
As Woodside Hotel Group’s origin story goes, Greg’s parents, Ellis and Katherine, were East Coasters who shared a dream of coming west. “California was literally the golden land to them,” Greg explains, “the land of opportunity.” In 1966, the couple settled in Menlo Park and began to raise a family; Ellis pursued a law career and Katherine programmed computer simulations for Stanford Research Institute. The California dream they envisioned crystallized just after Greg was born: An opportunity came up to buy a 36-room bluff-facing motel on the Sonoma coast. As Greg recounts, “That started the sight-unseen-no-experience-whatsoever transition from being a lawyer and a super computer programmer into learning the hotel business.”
With an eye to renovate and expand what is now The Lodge at Bodega Bay, the entrepreneurial hoteliers bought adjacent land—and grew organically from there. Working with a bootstrapping, family-run mindset, they built and opened the Napa Valley Lodge in Yountville in 1979, The Stanford Park Hotel in Menlo Park in 1986, the East Bay’s Lafayette Park Hotel & Spa in 1987, followed by the purchase of the Monterey Plaza Hotel & Spa in 1993.
“The commonality of all our properties is their unique sense of place and welcoming spirit,” notes Greg. “The iconic locations and experiences are distinctly California—whether it’s smelling the fresh Pacific breeze in Monterey or sipping wine in Yountville.”
The Alden family resettled in Woodside, which is where Greg, along with his older brother and younger sister, came of age. “Woodside back then felt like a casual, country town with lots of memories of riding my BMX bike, meeting friends at Roberts and just sitting out at the town center and watching cars and horses go by,” he reminisces. “I feel like it was a pretty free-rein childhood.”
Image by Annie Barnett
Throughout his youth, Greg’s parents always referred to the company as a family business. Still, he says, he never felt unduly pressured, and indeed, his siblings pursued different paths. After graduating from Menlo School, Greg attended Dartmouth College as an art history major followed by post-graduate studies in architecture in Florence. He initially joined Woodside Hotel Group to help with redevelopment and renovations but left to pursue his MBA and explore the world of real estate investment. The turning point came in 2005, when his parents announced their plans to step down. “They built the business bigger than their dreams had ever been,” he reflects, “really, from being a sole innkeeper to running an organization competing with top-tier hotel companies.”
For Greg, it was decision time: In or out?
He followed his gut and went all-in. “At the core, I’m a people pleaser. I’m a middle child. I just love hospitality and the joy that comes from uplifting others,” he reasons. “And I grew up watching my parents create special places, and that was really where my heart was.”
Assuming the role of president and CEO, Greg learned by doing, grateful that his parents prioritized hiring seasoned hospitality veterans at the property level and visionaries in the corporate office—the perfect blend of mentorship. Under his oversight, the company cemented its stake as the largest operator of independent luxury hotels in Northern California, with five owned and managed hotels, nine restaurant/café/bar venues and three spas. With the addition of San Francisco’s Hotel Driscoll in Pacific Heights and the Harvest Inn in St. Helena, Greg also brought third-party management into the fold.
Now residing with his wife and three children on a neighbor-friendly Menlo Park cul-de-sac, Greg views one professional task as absolutely vital in his mix of responsibilities: “Every day, I read every guest comment—Yelp, Google, TripAdvisor, you name it, for every hotel and every restaurant. I read every single one of them because our core principle is to enrich people’s lives and I care so much about delivering that experience.”
Courtesy of Caitlin Atkinson
With Woodside’s hotels consistently ranked top in their markets, Greg is energized by the feedback: “‘We got engaged there,’ ‘We come every year on our anniversary,’ ‘We had a lovely meal’—sometimes, it’s just a great cup of coffee being proactively topped off or having a s’mores kit unexpectedly offered at a fire pit.” When a ball does get dropped, he views it as an opportunity. “We can take that suboptimal experience, circle back with the guest and write a last chapter that’s even better,” he says. “We can deepen our connection with that individual by showing empathy, by apologizing and by offering to make it right.”
In a reflection of the current times, an appreciative review recently caught his eye. “We hadn’t been away for two years because of COVID,” shared the guest in her post, “and we went to the Sonoma Coast and were able to just relax and inhale deeply and feel good about things again.”
“You read that,” beams Greg, “and you say, ‘Wow, we did it!’”
For Greg, “We did it!” can also be construed more broadly, given the pandemic’s shadow that’s fallen over the entire hospitality industry. “On March 19, 2020, we were forced to shut down every hotel, every restaurant, every spa,” he recounts, clearly still shaken by the memory. “We had to make a lot of gut-wrenching calls on what to do to downsize the organization, to be able to ride out the uncertainty of the storm and to ensure that we could survive to hire people back and continue to be an employer.”
Two years later, Greg sees the bounce-back happening, as Woodside Hotel Group’s scenic locations offer respite and escape—along with a unique ability to blend business and leisure. “People can go to Monterey Plaza and they can work and have a meeting,” he notes, “and then they can go play a round of golf or go to the aquarium with their kids.”
Courtesy of Paul Dyer
Positioned as an “Oasis in Silicon Valley,” even The Stanford Park Hotel in Menlo Park carries that unique sense of place with artwork tied to Stanford University and the Peninsula. The walls and hallways are full of local lore: An aerial view of The Dish. Crystal Springs Reservoir. Original Big Game programs. Portraits of Stanford luminaries including U.S. Presidents, Supreme Court Justices, Olympians and Nobel Prize winners. “By being regional and family-run, we can make sure that our hotels really feel like they’re a part of the fabric of the community,” observes Greg as he passes through the property’s cozy Menlo Tavern, which serves as a gathering spot for both Peninsula locals and guests.
In conjunction with Woodside Hotel Group’s 50th anniversary, the company is rebranding its properties as the Woodside Collection, to reflect the common thread of “West Coast hospitality” that ties the independent hotels together. And although Greg hasn’t had time to fully process this milestone year, his sense of purpose is unwavering: “I feel resiliency and a desire to double down—I think about my parents who came here with this unbridled optimism and energy and love for Northern California and that’s what we want to share.”
Words by Sloane / Louis Persinger featured on the right
As I write this today, it would have been my mother’s 100th birthday. I was born to her very late in life (especially for that era), and so I’m not as old as her birthday might make me seem.
A true child prodigy, my mom’s lifetime violin career began with lessons at age four, and by six she was discovered to have perfect pitch. At eight, she won a scholarship to study with the famed violinist Louis Persinger. At 13, she had her own national radio program and at 16 was a soloist with the Cleveland Orchestra. At the age of 18, she won a fellowship at the Juilliard Graduate School in New York City.
Her career took her all over the world, but her most fascinating accomplishment might have been her time entertaining the WWII troops. At age 21, she was the first concert violinist sent out by the USO Camp Shows, and her stories and photos are featured in the Women’s War Memorial in Washington, D.C.
My mom spent three years traveling to more than 25 countries performing for hundreds of thousands of troops and almost perished several times. In September of 1944, she and her fellow musicians were sent to London. Here are some passages from letters that she wrote back to her parents, my grandparents, during that time.
“The most horrible part about the bombs, I think, is not the noise of the explosion, but the terrible shaking of the earth that it causes. All the pictures fall off the walls, and the window glass breaks, and everything jumps around. Then the deadly quiet which follows, until you hear the ambulances screaming.”
“We are almost dying of the cold. We travel around in open trucks and live in unheated barracks and wash in cold water. It’s impossible to get thawed out at any time.”
“Yesterday we were spending the afternoon playing in the wards and it’s remarkable how the boys who are all bandaged up make jokes about each other. We have already seen some of the boys who came over on the ship with us who have been fighting on the front lines and are back here in the hospital three weeks later with their legs and arms blown off. It’s worth a million dollars to see these faces light up when we come into their wards.”
“We are really sweating out the winter in the ETO. Haven’t gotten thawed out since we’ve been here and most of the time I feel like a frontline infantryman wading around in water and mud and riding in open trucks through rain, sleet and snow.”
“Not long ago, I was talking to a boy in a hospital who had what is known as ‘combat fatigue.’ For some reason or other when the boys get like that, they can’t seem to bring themselves to write home. Whenever possible, I get the addresses of the families and write them. I tell them that I’ve seen their husband or son, that he’s being well taken care of and explain more or less why they haven’t heard from him and that in a little time he will be normal again.”
“Today we played for the rear end of Patton’s third army, which was a pretty big rear end. That show of ours the boys saw was the last thing they did before going on over the Channel into combat again…It’s a shame that the army didn’t let us accept the command performance before King and Queen but they saw we were so badly needed in the field that they wouldn’t pull us in to do it.”
“I guess I should feel strange being in France now, but these past 17 months have been just one continuous move and I’ve gotten to the point where it doesn’t seem unusual to be anywhere. The backs of all the park benches are gone as the people took them off to use as firewood. We are in a beautiful spot here but it is very heavily mined, so we have to be very careful about watching where we step.”
“The camp where we’ve been playing for the repatriated allied soldiers of war is nothing but mud and tents covering several square miles. We play three shows a day on outdoor stages and the audience is so large that you can see them almost as far as the eyes can reach. The boys are brought to the camps in 2 1/2-ton trucks and they’re packed so tightly that they all have to stand. The procession of trucks seems never-ending—all day and night they are coming in. They stand in line for their first cooked meal in two years, still wearing their German prisoners’ clothes.”
“Life has been so full and beautiful that it’s almost more than one can accept. It’s May 8th, and it is V.E. Day. That itself gave me a warm glowing feeling. I could hear cannons going off—cannons of celebration and not of war. It’s been a great honor playing for these boys.”
When I reread her letters, I stand in awe of her adventurous spirit. Happy 100th Mom.
In the heart of residential Belmont lies a mysterious kiosk that tends to confuse people passing by. Could it be a large mailbox? A remnant from an old playground? Or perhaps an oddly-designed piece of city decor? The structure stands out from its surroundings with its blue door, medieval design and turret top. Known as the Belmont Kiosk, the circular building lies at the intersection of three streets: the busy Alameda de las Pulgas, Arthur Avenue and Covington Road.
The Kiosk was built in 1924 in conjunction with the attempted creation of Belmont Country Club Properties, a proposed 1,000-acre development in Belmont. It was marketed as a luxurious community of estates complete with hiking trails, a golf course and a central country club. Modeled after a French medieval grain silo, the Kiosk served as the promotion office for the franchise.
However, due to overspending and the Wall Street Crash of 1929, Belmont Country Club Properties turned out to be an unsuccessful venture that left behind the eye-catching silo, a clubhouse, a swimming pool and a golf course in its wake. Even after the course closed down and the pool was filled in, the little Kiosk continued to stand tall. In 1997, Pantano Properties donated the local landmark to the city of Belmont in memory of Florence Pantano. After being re-dedicated in 2007, the Kiosk continues to hold court as the focal point of a median mini-park that welcomes visitors.
On a fog-shrouded morning at Palo Alto’s Baylands Nature Preserve, a mockingbird perches on a toyon bush, eyeing the vibrant red berries. Black-crowned night herons nestle into the tall shoreline grasses while side-by-side flocks of American avocets and dowitchers create a light and dark patchwork pattern in the water.
“There’s a shorebird palooza and duck-a-rama going on here,” exclaims John (who goes by Jack) Muir Laws, as he greets a small group toting backpacks, spotting scopes and binoculars. “Get ready to get your nature geek on!”
Bird watching would be the default assumption, and yes, that will happen here. But the agenda of this gathering is nature journaling, a hobby turned movement that’s flourishing—with Jack leading the charge.
“A nature journal is a notebook in which we use words, pictures and numbers to describe natural phenomena that we encounter,” he explains, as workshop participants settle in around him, unpacking sets of drawing pencils and paints. “It’s a way to engage with our observations, our curiosity and questions and make connections to other things that we’ve seen.”
Jack pulls out a small white board and deftly sketches loose lines with a blue marker. “On shorebirds, it’s really helpful to squint your eyes and go for general values of light and dark,” he demonstrates with quick strokes. After a short, interactive tutorial, it’s time for individual exploration and study with a plan to regroup and share discoveries. “Decide what’s interesting to you,” Jack emphasizes. “Let your curiosity determine your focus.”
Image by Irene Searles
And indeed, the act of chasing his own curiosity is what set Jack on this unique path that he’s chosen to walk—accompanied by the likes of long-eared chipmunks, spotted towhees and shasta blue butterflies, and an impassioned community of nature journalers.
With a given name of John Muir, it might seem like Jack was predestined to align his journey with the natural world. The question can’t help but pop to mind: “Are you related…?” No, Jack says, he’s not a direct descendent of the famed naturalist. “That’s what my mom and dad named me,” he relays, explaining that John was a nod to his maternal grandfather and Muir his paternal great-grandmother. “But I strongly suspect that that had a role in me becoming a person fascinated with natural history and conservation in California,” he concedes.
Although Jack dons a blue wool cap to ward off the morning chill, much like his legendary role model, he’s the wearer of many hats including naturalist, educator, artist and author. The numerous publications written and illustrated by John Muir Laws include The Laws Field Guide to the Sierra Nevada, The Laws Guide to Drawing Birds and The Laws Guide to Nature Drawing and Journaling. Jack doesn’t hesitate when asked to synthesize the common thread in his work: “My goal is to help people fall in love with the natural world to the point that they step forward to become stewards to protect it.”
Given that fostering love is a tall order, Jack concluded that he needed to clearly define it first. Reflecting on the relationships in his life helped him pare it down. “I believe that love is the act of sustained, compassionate attention,” he summarizes. “If I am teaching people how to pay attention, I am teaching people how to fall more deeply in love with the world.”
And that’s where the nature journal comes in. “The journal is the tool that unlocks the door,” he explains. “It’s the key.”
Jack credits his family with guiding him to that key—and ultimately the calling that he now shares with others. Both of his parents relished nature and natural history (his mother leaning toward botany and his father toward birding), and growing up in San Francisco, Jack turned Sutro Forest into his own personal jungle to explore.
On a botany field trip organized by his mother, 7-year-old Jack observed one of his mother’s friends sketching the flowers that she saw in a notebook. “I was absolutely fascinated,” he recalls, “so anywhere Neela would go, I would sit down next to her and watch.” Before the next family adventure, Jack’s mother presented him with his own notebook journal and supplies. “She noticed exactly where my focus was,” he reflects, “and met me at that spot to help me take the next step.” Jack’s grandmother also played a pivotal role by giving him his first watercolor set and lessons in art. “Don’t worry about making it perfect,” she told him. “Have fun with it.”
He cites another formative moment that happened on a birding trip in Point Reyes. Jack watched in wonder as his father quietly approached a willow bush. “He began to make this ‘pishing’ noise with his lips—‘pish, pish, pish, pish’—and this tiny bird started to dance closer and closer to us,” he recounts. “My dad was Dr. Doolittle! He was speaking to the birds.”
Jack’s father pulled out a field guide, and together they determined that the olive-greenish bird was a ruby-crowned kinglet. “Once you’re hooked on the birds, everything else kind of comes from that,” he says. “I discovered that these field guides were like little troves of treasures that you could go out and find—every walk became a treasure hunt.”
Courtesy of Robert David Siegel
Diagnosed at a young age with dyslexia, Jack struggled in high school but always found respite in nature. For one of his classes, he loaded his backpack up with hefty field guides to hike the John Muir Trail. With the additional support of influential biology and history teachers who encouraged his scientific curiosity, Jack found his way to UC Berkeley where he pursued a major based on natural history and environmental education.
Throughout his academic studies, teaching roles and the career that followed at the California Academy of Sciences, Jack continued to draw and keep journals of all his adventures and discoveries. While working at an outdoor education program in Marin, his journaling drew the attention of students, who began to use their free time to join him. Jack witnessed this outlet—so familiar and ingrained in him—resulting in a transformative experience. “Teaching somebody facts is proverbially giving somebody a fish,” he realized, “but when you teach them how to observe, how to ask questions, how to wonder, how to nature journal, you’re teaching them how to fish.”
Another watershed event came as Jack sat with his grandmother, just before she passed away. Pondering what he would regret not doing in his own lifetime, he reached two conclusions: he wanted to have a family and be a father and also to create a field guide to the Sierra Nevada, a definitive guide that he wished had existed when he hiked the John Muir Trail.
Jack left his job at the Academy of Sciences to study scientific illustration at UC Santa Cruz and then spent the next six years meticulously documenting all the natural treasures between Yosemite and Mount Whitney. “During the spring, summer and fall, I’d be hiking in the Sierra Nevada with the backpack on and a notebook, stopping at every plant—sit down, key it out, make a painting, move on to the next,” he says. “Paint, paint, paint, until I’d run out of paper and run out of food. I’d resupply and then do it again.”
Published by Berkeley’s Heyday Books in 2007, The Laws Field Guide to the Sierra Nevada was released to rapturous reviews. As additional publications followed, Jack realized his other life goal when he met his wife, Cybele Renault, an infectious disease specialist. About 10 years ago, they settled in San Mateo to raise their two daughters. Referring to themselves as “The Adventure Girls,” Amelia and Carolyn are always readily equipped with shoulder bags packed with their nature journals and field supplies.
A decade after moving to the Peninsula, Jack continues to be awed by the natural bounty surrounding his family. “When you look at the corridors of wildlife habitat we have here, we are living in an absolutely amazing place,” he notes. “The bay is lined with these incredible bird magnets and then we’ve got our coastal range hills with so much protected and preserved open space.”
Courtesy of John Muir Laws
The Peninsula now provides daily inspiration for Jack’s primary focus, which is getting the tools for nature journaling into the hands of as many people as possible. At his website johnmuirlaws.com, the tagline reads, “Nature Stewardship Through Science, Education and Art,” and the offerings there provide a vital hub for a rapidly-growing community. Free online lessons. Events and workshops. Nature journal clubs. Educator resources. A naturalist store—with Jack’s field guides and books, along with art supplies. “There’s no paywall, so all of my classes are available for anybody, anywhere, at any time,” Jack says. “Taking a class gives you some structure and regular practice, and once it becomes a routine, it gets a lot easier.”
Acknowledging that it can be intimidating to get started, Jack provides quick assurance that you don’t have to be an artist, writer or scientist to enjoy nature journaling—the goal is to notice things, to pay attention: “If you make an observation that you otherwise wouldn’t have made or you ask a question that wouldn’t have occurred to you, your journal page is successful, no matter how it looks.”
That being said, Jack also believes that drawing isn’t a gift but a skill that can be learned at any age. “You will become an artist if you just start doing it on a regular basis,” he asserts. “The skills actually develop surprisingly fast.” And how will you know what to focus on? Jack suggests giving yourself a specific search pattern. “What you’re looking for initially is two things: wonder and beauty,” he says. “Look for micro-beauties like a leaf or the way the sunlight hits moss and then be on the lookout for the little mini-mysteries—phenomena and events—that you don’t fully understand.”
Although recognized as a leading advocate for nature journaling, Jack knows he can’t drive the movement alone. That’s why he has worked closely with numerous teachers, homeschool groups and environmental educators across the U.S. for more than 30 years to jumpstart nature journaling programs. “This is such a useful skill that we need to teach the teachers and share this skillset more broadly,” he explains.
To accomplish that, Jack makes resources such as the curriculum Opening the World through Nature Journaling and the comprehensive guide How to Teach Nature Journaling (co-authored with Emilie Lygren) available as free downloads from his website. How does he make a living when he provides so much au gratis? He credits the nature journaling community—those who can afford to do so—with supporting his work through donations. “People have been really generous,” he says appreciatively, “and that then allows me to turn around and be really generous too.”
Image by Irene Searles
Currently offering three online classes a week—along with an ever-increasing number of nature journal video tutorials—Jack looks forward to returning to regular workshops in the field. As the sun pushes through the morning fog during the recent outing to the Palo Alto Baylands, the gratitude among the attendees is palpable. Brian shares that he’s been journaling since 2019. “I wanted to learn to draw,” he recalls, “and if you type in ‘draw,’ Jack’s name comes up pretty quickly.” Amy, who bought her first notebook in 2016, nods with a smile: “I thought I could find hope in beauty and nature.” High school senior Fiona chimes in with her take. “I love asking questions,” she says. “I’m big on curiosity.” Heather agrees, adding, “There’s something about nature that makes us better people.”
As Jack tracks the burgeoning number of nature journalers—and the passionate engagement he sees—he’s continually reinforced in his mission. “There’s always something to be curious about if we choose to be curious,” he reflects. “Fundamentally, we’re teaching people how to fall in love with the world and how to celebrate their own capacity for learning and growth.”
At Harley Farms Goat Dairy, which sits at the quiet edges of the coastal town of Pescadero, 17 miles south of Half Moon Bay, a mother goat hovers protectively over her two new arrivals. When I kneel down to greet them, a tiny, white kid approaches me, her tail wagging like a puppy as she starts to nibble my finger. The garden tumbles with flowers while rolling hills of tender green grass spread out around us in the filtered morning light.
Originally a cow dairy built in 1910, this idyllic property was left derelict until Dee Harley took it over in 1990. “The land was really overgrown, the buildings were broken down,” Dee recalls, “but something about it spoke to me.” With strong support from a tight-knit agricultural community, Dee grew her property from the original nine acres to more than double that and also created a thriving business.
Image by Paulette Phlipot
Today, Harley Farms is home to around 200 goats, an elderly donkey named Rosie and eight Anatolian Shepherd dogs that guard against mountain lions with an assist from two llamas. Award-winning, handcrafted goat cheese made at the refurbished dairy drove Harley’s rapid growth, but visitors who knew nothing of the cheese were drawn by the charm of the property and the lure of fields full of adorable goats.
Dee realized she could harness that fascination and expanded offerings to include extensive tours, farm-to-table dinners and private events. She has hosted thousands of visitors by placing the natural beauty of the land and the refurbished buildings at the heart of Harley Farms’ endeavors.
The door to the small shop where Harley Farms Goat Dairy sells its famous cheese creaks when I push it open. In a small but important way, the creaking door holds the secret to its magic. “My dear friend [local wood carver], ‘Three-Fingered Bil,’ who made this door, believed that when a door creaks it gives you the feeling you are entering another world,” Dee Harley shares. ”Everything here is real—the beams on the ceiling, the wooden planks of the floor, the goat milk paint that colors it, every product we sell—it’s all completely authentic. I think people can feel that.”
In her 32 years of running Harley Farms, Dee has used that gut sense for what feels right to craft her mission, operating with a combination of instinct and hard-won business acumen. Originally from Yorkshire, England, Dee was always drawn to farming, and she worked land from the UK to Honduras before finding herself captivated by the charm of a small parcel of abandoned acreage on the San Mateo County coast.
Image by Paulette Phlipot
When Nancy Gaffney, an expert cheese-maker from Davenport, recommended that Dee get goats to help clear the fields and use the milk to make cheese, a path through the wilderness started to emerge. “I went from looking out of the window wondering what I could get going to having six goats that quickly turned into twelve,” she reflects with a smile. “It just kept growing from there.”
Success came quickly and Harley Farms won awards from the American Cheese Society before going on to take prizes in international competitions. Chevre, in a variety of flavors—spanning honey and lavender to dill to herbes de Provence—headlines the roster of star cheeses. But the delicate Fromage Blanc and an aged Feta also claim places in the hall of fame. “It’s the salt air and the green grass that give the cheese its unique flavor. I mean, we even beat the French, which is really saying something,” remarks Dee, the shock still evident in her tone all of these years later.
In the early days of running Harley Farms, the cheese business was all-consuming with about 300 goats fueling distribution channels around the country. Dee got the old dairy up and running and connected the milking machines to the certified kitchen via an elegant pipeline system, but keeping up with demand became grueling. In 2008, Dee had another one of the epiphanies that have always guided her decision-making. “I literally woke up and realized we had to change,” she recounts. “I pulled out of all the distributing contracts and brought the whole business closer to home. I sold off half of the herd in the following days.”
In tandem, she took full stock of the property’s assets. “People were showing up all the time—curious about the goats, wanting to buy cheese or just to enjoy the gardens and pond,” recalls Dee. She discerned that she could create new revenue streams by charging for tours and hosting events on the property.
Dee launched into renovations, starting with the rustic loft above the shop, which now features a long table—the focal point of farm-to-table dinners—crafted by Three Fingered Bil from a tree trunk uprooted in a flood and made without a single nail. Turning her attention to the pond and secret garden, Dee cultivated settings perfect for weddings and corporate events. To round out the venture’s entrepreneurial options, Dee upgraded the farm shop, expanding Harley’s goat milk product line to include soaps, lotions and balms, as well as kitchen creations like jams and goat milk pot de creme.
Image by Paulette Phlipot
Dee looks back at this time as one of the critical junctures in how she managed the farm. “I still to this day use the health of the goats to determine our direction,” she explains. “If their hooves aren’t trimmed, it means we’re diluted somewhere and it’s time to get back to basics.”
At Harley Farms, the rhythm of life is dictated by the natural demands of animal behavior. In the spring, between February and April, around 250 baby goats are born. “This farm goes from being a very lovely, peaceful place to absolute chaos,” Dee says good-naturedly, adding that the kids are bottle-fed by people rather than suckled by their mothers. “We do this so that they’ll bond to us because we will be their primary caregivers,” she explains, “and it also allows us to control the flow of milk.”
Most of the young herd are sold off in summer, but around 50 goats are retained to be mated with a few visiting males the following September. “We always keep some of the baby goats and cycle out elderly female goats who are ready for retirement,” Dee continues. Because Harley only needs female goats, the males are given to San Francisco Grazing where they’re tasked with chomping down excess brush around San Francisco International Airport and the Presidio.
Many of the people who work with Dee have been with her for the long haul. Roberto Zavala Castillo and Salud Corona Telles joined Harley Farms in the early days before she could guarantee their paychecks. Roberto maintains a strong presence and helps Dee mend fences, repair buildings and care for the goats. Salud learned the art of making cheese by hand from Nancy Gaffney and in turn, trained her daughter, Rebecca, who has now been making cheese for 18 years. During high season, they make around 100 pounds of cheese a day.
Thinking about these long relationships and the shifting nature of life at Harley Farms, Dee becomes reflective. “Looking back, I made use of people’s interests. We’ve been able to build this around the people and the skills they have,” she says. But she also credits the location with making it all possible. “We are a part of a tight-knit rural community. I think you can feel that when you come here.”
As Harley Farms looks to the future, the spotlight is shifting to the next generation. Dee’s son, Ben, graduated with a degree in Organic Food Systems from Washington State University and has returned to help his mother run the farm. ”It’s a business, and you’ve got to be reliable and you’ve got to be sustainable, but it’s also a lifestyle,” Dee points out. “He’s got that in his soul. He understands the movement of the farm, the rhythm of the seasons.”
Image by Paulette Phlipot
Ben is introducing new ideas, like a goats-for-hire program, that would allow for small landowners to clear fire-hazardous brush from their properties. He’s also driving a project that includes the purchase of six cows, British Whites, that will be harvested for their meat, which will be added to Harley’s goods in the shop.
In the meantime, new longer tours take small groups farther into the farm, with springtime viewing of the newborn babies a favorite highlight. Tours frequently sell out, but the farm also welcomes visitors to drop by any day between 11AM to 4PM to greet the goats and donkeys over the fence.
Dee clearly relishes her life at Harley Farms, but she also looks forward to pulling back and enjoying what she’s built. “Maybe I’d learn to drive a tractor if I had a bit of free time,” she smiles. “I would like to have a bit more privacy, but I still want to be able to look out my window and watch goats nibbling a bit of grass.”
Stowed in a small crate that he tucks within his black and sawdusty workstation is Tait Detro’s special box.
He burrows about to produce a block of mesquite, shaped like a wedge. The woodworker says he found it while traveling in the Southwest where he also purchased one of the rarest and most expensive timbers around: the desert ironwood. He lifts it out of the box with reverence.
Tait proceeds to thumb through slices of a pear tree. Next is a square fragment of bloodwood, aptly titled for its naturally red coloring, followed by remaining blocks of ash, remnants from a coffee table that he recently finished.
Identifying and describing each piece, Tait is in his element as he stacks these chunks of exotic lumber upon his knee.
“The aim with these woods, and the reason why I keep them, is to use them as tiny accent pieces. For instance, I used some wenge as drawer pulls in a desk I made. It has a nice, rich color but it’s also hard—which is what you need since you interact with a drawer pull,” he explains while assembling a display of these precious materials.
Courtesy of Tait
“I use this box sparingly and as carefully as I can. I value it. This wood has to be used responsibly.”
Equipped with a vision and guided by devotion, Tait designs and builds fine furniture as the sole pair of hands behind Potaito Fine Furniture. In the less than two years since he began, Tait’s produced around 20 pieces of furniture including a desk, dining table, writing desk and a chair inspired by the 1950s Danish designer Børge Mogensen.
He works on commission—past clients include corporate Google and a chic hotel and restaurant on Long Island—and sometimes Tait works out of necessity; such as when he moved in with his girlfriend and they needed a coffee table and a spatula.
Potaito (pronounced like the starchy vegetable) is both whimsical and a play on his first name, continuing a nickname he’s had throughout his life since friends and his two older sisters often call him Taiter or some variation.
“I lean into it,” he says. “I don’t want to come off as pretentious and a lot of fine furniture can be—especially with the price tags. It’s a good indication of what I want my furniture to be about: approachable and fun.”
Tait adopted an early affinity for lumber as a boy raised among its stacks. The Los Altos native’s father, Tod, is the owner of the East Palo Alto-based Knotty Hole Woodworks, a cabinet shop specializing in high-end custom cabinetry and millwork. Tait’s summers were spent at the warehouse in between his years at St. Francis High School in Mountain View and then San Francisco State University.
His first foray into his own professional woodworking endeavor was in 2015 when he launched Potaito Boards, skateboards Tait made using locally sourced and reclaimed wood. Some of the boards he made were direct offcuts from people’s kitchen cabinets found throughout the Peninsula.
In 2019, Tait enrolled at The Krenov School of Fine Furniture at Mendocino College—a reputable and intensive two-year (six days a week) woodworking program. Tait was utterly fulfilled. He’d scrawl quotes from professors in the margins in his notebooks: “Rush slowly,” his professor Laura Mays once imparted.
Image by Gino De Grandis
Each semester concludes by completing a single project and Tait’s first semester ended with a cabinet that he delicately assembled. His mother LaDon now has it and Tait finds himself continuously inspecting and touching it up whenever he visits home.
“The Krenov philosophy is that you’re never a ‘master craftsman’ and I wouldn’t call myself that,” he says. “You’re putting on labels and expectations, and it’s kind of weird. With woodworking, you’re never done learning.”
His process of creation begins with wood but Tait isn’t interested in just any old slab. He’s drawn to recycled wood, pieces that would have otherwise gone to a dump if he didn’t intercept them. He recently saw a post on NextDoor about a fallen tree and came home with a slab of black acacia. (“Having a tree taken out? Call me,” he pleads.)
Designing begins with sketches before he creates a model scale of the project, sometimes entirely out of cardboard. This allows him to lock down the geometric angles before it’s too late to make changes. “You can make a cheap mockup now or an expensive one later,” Tait grins, referencing another quote he learned from school.
He’ll test the sharpness of his chisel by gently scraping against his arm and if a strand of hair slides off, he knows it’s optimal. From there he works alone, off in a corner of his dad’s imposing warehouse. Although he’s surrounded by industrial-sized machines that churn out wood products with speed, Tait steadily turns wood by hand while thin shavings fall to the floor beneath him.
Image by Gino De Grandis
“Not everything handmade is inherently good and not everything automated is inherently bad. If it’s a good design and thoughtfully made, I think that’s good,” he reasons. “I don’t want my furniture to be trendy but something people will own for as long as they care to use it. I want it to have endurance and a long lifespan. I want people to feel like they spoiled themselves.”
The primary focus for his business is to source recycled, domestic wood while accepting new commissions but Tait is looking out even further, envisioning his own woodshop, perhaps in the industrial sector of San Carlos.
Until then, he’s rummaging through the resources found at the warehouse. Leaned up against the wall near his workstation is a stockpile of various slabs, leftovers from Knotty Hole Woodwork projects. Tait sees potential.
He pulls out a strip of white oak where oxidation occurred, creating discolored patches of dark grey.
“They saw this and thought it was no good,” he says while admiring the unique piece, “but when I saw it, I thought, ‘Hey, that’s pretty cool.’”
Good design never goes out of style. Such a statement couldn’t be more true for this Palo Alto Spanish colonial’s full renovation. With its stately positioning on a corner lot, nestled among other period homes, this original Birge Clark home was the perfect project for a busy family of four to revitalize and make their own.
Tiffany Mansfield and Lisa O’Neil of Mansfield + O’Neil Interior Design, which has Peninsula and Marin offices, spearheaded the home’s interior design and were already acquainted with the client’s aesthetic, having previously worked with them on other projects. “Our collaboration started 15 years ago,” Tiffany notes. “This is actually the third home we’ve worked on together.”
With just a little more than the house’s front facade left standing, the 6,500-square-foot structure was completely rebuilt to match its early 20th-century architecture, but with modern materials. The project, which took three years to complete, was a collaboration between Palo Alto-based Fergus Garber Architects, the designers and the homeowners who had specific ideas of how they wanted their new home to feel and function.
Image by Paul Dyer
A defining feature of Spanish and Monterey colonials is a full-facade cantilevered balcony on both the front and back of the house. This appealed to the homeowners as they wanted to create a seamless indoor-outdoor vibe. Contemporary nine-foot black steel and glass doors that open onto the exterior patio bring light into the home, and stone floors in the great room extend to the outdoor patio, continuing the indoor-outdoor narrative. The architects optimized design within the confines of the lot, which included raising the ceiling of the first floor to gain more light and dropping the foundation so that there was no longer a step onto the patio. “We maximized the interior square footage while maintaining optimum outdoor space by creatively approaching the lot’s tight configuration and complicated city regulations,” says architect Catharine Garber. The firm’s experience working with period homes and the Palo Alto Historic Resource Board expedited the building processes for added efficiency.
Tiffany, the renovation project lead for the design firm, actively engaged from the moment the slab was poured. She knew early on what the homeowner envisioned for the space, which made the project harmonious and highly collaborative. “The home’s architectural roots inspired the interior design and the Spanish glam aesthetic, as we called the look, required a unique approach,” Tiffany explains. “We created an eclectic, yet approachable, family-friendly space in a Spanish-style home with a touch of glam. The homeowner was clear on that from the beginning, and it drove the project.”
Courtesy of Dana Spaeth
The home’s color story is the ideal blend of Old World and modern with corals, creams, turquoise and gold used as a guiding palette. “This project, unlike the client’s first Palo Alto home, has restrained pockets of color against a neutral backdrop,” says Tiffany. The neutrality ties in well with the period of the home and the lack of wood design elements like baseboards and moldings. “The color black was also important, and our primary color palette pops off of it beautifully,” she says.
Natural white oak wood on the interior doors and the majority of flooring was one defining neutral element that allowed more bold colors to shine. “The original dark stained doors and beams were heavy and outdated,” Catharine explains. “The new design features lighter and more modern wood finishes to lighten the space and allow the interior colors to take center stage.” The wood also plays well off the satin brass hardware and coral and turquoise colors in textiles and upholstery.
One room in the house was of particular interest to the homeowner. She was very specific about the parlor being more stylized than the other spaces in the home. “She wanted it to feel elegant with the use of bolder colors while still maintaining a high level of architectural integrity,” says Tiffany.
Image by Paul Dyer
The kitchen’s minimalist design was intentional as the homeowner wanted to keep the space more as a place to gather than a place to cook. The butler’s pantry, which is situated behind the kitchen stove wall, is where work is done, coffee is made and tasks are tracked. “The pantry is really a hub for the family,” Tiffany relays, “and it allows the kitchen to maintain its minimal and clean feel.”
Additional nods to the home’s Spanish roots include the Walker Zanger Arabesque-style ceramic tiles used on the kitchen backsplash, rounded interior archways, lantern-style exterior sconces and salvaged Spanish roof tiles. “Fundamentally, the interior reflects the Spanish character of the home,” Tiffany says of the end result. “This home has history imbued in it and its architecture and interiors reflect that.”
Preston’s Candy & Ice Cream’s unassuming storefront, with its old-school neon sign and red-and-white striped awning, has been a fixture on Burlingame’s Broadway Avenue for more than 75 years. A sweet slice of Peninsula history, it has been a go-to spot for generations of customers to indulge in locally made treats.
The shop’s quiet exterior belies the activity inside that, even on a relatively quiet midweek afternoon, doesn’t stop: A customer drops in to order a Mocha Almond Fudge Pie for a dinner party, kids crowd the ice cream case for an after-school snack and in the kitchen, candymaker Javier Santiago is mixing up an oversized batch of gooey marshmallow fluff.
At the center of the activity is Irene Preston, the shop’s petite, energetic owner.
Opened by Art Preston in 1946, the eponymously named shop was part of the post-World War II economic boom. (Fun fact: Despite sharing the same last name, Irene and Art are not related.) According to Irene, Art had wanted to be a candymaker from a young age and apprenticed with Douglas Shaw in San Francisco before being drafted to serve in the Pacific theater. When Art returned to the Bay Area after his tour of duty, his mentor helped him set up shop in Burlingame, providing several kiddie pool-sized copper pots that still hang in Preston’s kitchen today.
Image by Gino De Grandis
“Art was considered one of the master candymakers in the United States,” says Irene. A small display of awards in the front of the shop attest to his skills and success. Thanks to Art’s reputation and the shop’s proximity to the airport, Preston’s was tapped to provide the mints for United Airlines in-flight meals. Decades later, Irene and her staff provided candy for Virgin America.
Irene was herself a longtime customer before she and now ex-husband George purchased the shop from Art in 1997. Irene and George were Palo Alto residents at the time, with two college-age sons. George was ready for a career change and Irene supported the plan—although she had no intention of being in the kitchen. She would handle the business side of things, and George would make the candy. “I’m not a candy-maker,” she says matter-of-factly, “I’m a candy eater.”
Although Irene, a UC Berkeley graduate, had never worked in the food business before, her career experience as a graphic designer, teacher and art resource person for the Palo Alto Unified School District provided a good foundation for running the business and managing employees.
When she and George split a few years into the venture, Irene became the sole proprietor, and she’s been running things ever since. She also learned to make candy and has passed those skills on to her employees, training five candymakers over the years.
Walking into Preston’s is like stepping back in time to the middle of the 20th century: the blue-and-white linoleum tiles, delicately-patterned wallpaper and lacy cafe curtains in the shop’s window might remind you of your grandmother’s (or great-grandmother’s) kitchen.
For a first-time visitor, it’s hard to know where to look first. An overwhelming assortment of candies lines the left side of the shop along the wall as well as in, on and around the glass-fronted white display cases. There are bags of colorful gummies, tray after tray of chocolate-covered delights and seasonal sweets, heart-shaped candies for Valentine’s Day or bunnies and eggs for Easter that populate the shop’s shelves and tables. Irene says Easter and Christmas are the busiest holidays of the year, but you can find gifts and treats for most holidays, including Hanukkah and Chinese New Year.
Image by Gino De Grandis
Year-round bestsellers include chocolate-covered honeycomb, crispy peanut brittle and handmade marshmallows. All of Preston’s candies are made in-house, many from Art’s original recipes. “He gave me this binder, and we are only using about a third of it,” Irene says.
Her staff continues to produce old-school treats, like coffee blacks, while also creating new products for changing times and diets, like the vegan chocolate Javier has developed. “He’s so creative!” Irene says proudly. The two have a good working relationship, joking around in the kitchen and playing off each other’s ideas.
“I’m having so much fun with him,” Irene says. “Because most of the times when I come up with an idea—”
“—I’ve already made it,” Javier interjects, finishing her sentence, as they both laugh.
Ice creams, however, are no longer made in-house but are purchased from local producers Loard’s, Mitchell’s and Golnazar Gourmet Ice Cream. Loard’s provides the bulk of the flavor options that fill the cold cases along the right side of the shop.
Image by Gino De Grandis
Cross-pollination between Preston’s and Loard’s goes back to the early days of both businesses, says Irene. “Art and Russ Sayard (Loard’s founder) shared recipes,” she explains. When Irene took over in 1997, Preston’s ice creams were being made at Loard’s facility in the East Bay and, she says, “My candymakers actually went over there once a week to make their syrups and things like that, and then we made all the candies for their stores over here.” But times change, and purchasing frozen treats from different makers allows Irene to offer a variety of flavors and introduce new options to meet customer demand and changing tastes.
The fact that Irene has kept the shop going for the past 25 years is a credit to her tenacity, creativity and passion for the business. But make no mistake, it’s hard work, and at 76 years old, Irene is considering the future of the shop. “My boys are very busy with their own careers, so I don’t have anybody to take over,” she says.
She’d like to see Preston’s legacy continue and would be willing to teach a motivated, new owner, just as Art taught her 25 years ago. “Preston’s goal is to present opportunities to have real candy,” she says, referring to the shop’s handcrafted products. That sounds like a pretty sweet goal.
“I did not want a brick and mortar,” says Siska Silitonga, chef-partner of Redwood City’s Warung Siska, who had spent seven years building her culinary career through pop-up dining events. Then again, she notes, “‘Why not?’ is always my thing.”
Born and raised in Jakarta, Indonesia, and part of the Batak tribe of North Sumatra, Siska learned the business of food from her mother, a professional cook and caterer. “I always had that in my life,” she recalls, “but I never liked it, to be honest.” As a teenager, Siska worked for her mother and learned to cook for a crowd, but she envisioned a different future.
After attending university in Beijing and earning a degree in Mandarin Literature, Siska arrived in the Bay Area in 2002 to pursue a media studies degree at the University of San Francisco. She considered becoming a journalist, but instead she says she “took the Silicon Valley route,” leaving USF for a career in corporate media.
Image by Paulette Philipot
In 2015, after more than a decade in the Bay Area without a community of compatriots, Siska deeply missed Indonesia’s food, language and culture. While searching the internet for Indonesian eateries, she discovered Eatwith.com, a website for immersive in-home dining experiences. Why not create her own Indonesian dining experience through Eatwith? Siska designed a meal that presented Indonesian flavors in a way that would be approachable for her guests. The event was a success and a turning point. “When I look back,” she says, “it was such a freedom. I realized that I could create Siska food. It doesn’t have to be 100% my mom or my grandmother.”
She started a pop-up side hustle, which became a full-time business when she was laid off from her corporate job. She named her venture ChiliCali, because, as Siska says, “Chili has to be with everything in Indonesia, and Cali is for California.”
Her modern Indonesian cuisine, based on bumbu—spice mixes or sauces made with fresh components like red chilis, lemongrass, galangal and makrut lime leaves—combined with local ingredients, was a hit with diners. To reach a broader audience, Siska created a line of cooking sauces in 2017, financed through Kickstarter, and won a Good Food Award for the Sambal Red Hot Chili Base.
Off the Grid reached out in 2018, encouraging her to apply to Instrucktional, their rigorous food truck incubator program. A food truck wasn’t part of Siska’s plan, but it could get her food onto more plates, so she applied. The program gave her a stipend, access to a truck and an immersive hands-on education. At the same time, she was becoming an ambassador for Indonesian cuisine.
Siska described her Instrucktional experience, including the challenges of driving a food truck, in a 2019 essay for Bon Appétit. (Spoiler alert: She may have sideswiped a FedEx vehicle.) The essay also touched on the politics of food and how gastrodiplomacy could help illuminate Indonesian food in the U.S. The piece caught the attention of the Indonesian consulate, and they reached out to Siska to brainstorm ideas.
Pandemic shutdowns brought Instrucktional and pop-ups to a halt. Adding insult to injury, ChiliCali’s commercial kitchen was destroyed by a fire, putting takeout meals on hold. “Why not?” was turning into “What next?”
Serendipity intervened in 2021, bringing Siska together with restaurant-industry veterans Ervan Lim and Anne Le Ziblatt. Ervan, who is from Jakarta and has managed operations for M.Y. China and Live Fire Pizza, noted the dearth of Indonesian restaurants among the Bay Area’s diverse food scene. He wanted to change that. He knew Siska and her food through pop-ups and social media and shared her goal of elevating their homeland’s cuisine.
Image by Paulette Philipot
Restaurateur Anne (formerly of Tamarine and Bong Su), who knew Ervan professionally, was at a transitional point with Nam Vietnamese Brasserie, the modern-casual spot she opened in February 2020. “I was just planning on a wholesale change,” she says, when she and Ervan met to discuss his idea for a brick-and-mortar Indonesian eatery. She was interested. “I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Indonesia,” says Anne. Her family spent a year in a refugee camp there after leaving Vietnam, and her parents spoke often of the generosity and kindness of the Indonesian people.
By May 2021, the new restaurant project was a go, with Anne as principal partner, Ervan as managing partner and Siska helming the kitchen. Warung Siska (a warung is a small, casual eatery) opened in July 2021 in Nam’s place. “It was madness for two months,” recalls Siska.
They made only minor modifications to the restaurant’s original design by Anastasia Contakos, adding Indonesian details to the wall murals and cushy batik pillows, sewn by Ervan’s mom, to the window and wall banquettes. Counter service maintains the friendly, fast-casual vibe.
The compact menu offers a dozen or so seasonally-inspired small plates and mains, plus a couple of light desserts. Chicken Lemper, an Indonesian snack of steamed rice stuffed with shredded chicken that takes more than 24 hours to prepare, is presented musubi-style. Siska’s take on bakwan (corn fritter) incorporates makrut lime leaf and okra and is served with kecap manis, a sweet soy dipping sauce. Main plates include Otak Otak, a steamed, ground fish dish with lemongrass relish, two types of satays and Gulai Sayur, a flavorful vegetarian curry.
Image by Paulette Philipot
The beverage program, under Ervan’s purview, includes several nonalcoholic options, like the pretty, cheerful Soda Gembira (translation: “happy soda”), in addition to beer, wine and sake. Coming soon are cocktails and a custom-blended red wine, all crafted to complement Siska’s dishes.
The restaurant has already received kudos from the local press and the Michelin Guide California. And as for the Indonesian community Siska was missing? “You should see all the Indonesians who come here!” she exclaims. “The Indonesian community has been so, so supportive.”
Asked about what’s next, she says, “If I truly want to make Indonesian food known in the Bay Area and beyond, I can’t just be glued to one place. While I’m here, it has to be the best. But I have dreams, and my vision is bigger than just one place.”
That comment would prove prescient. Siska recently announced her departure from the Redwood City restaurant, which will maintain the Warung Siska name as well as its Indonesian concept and menu. Siska has a new culinary venture in the offing in San Francisco and will continue to produce her ChiliCali brand of cooking sauces. Continuing the trajectory of her career, she’s already making a quick transition and optimizing opportunity. But then again, why not?
Calling all Cupids — the holiday of love returns with a selection of romantic settings
tamarine
Palo Alto
Vietnamese cuisine couples up with our state’s abundant produce to hatch Tamarine, a gastronomic tour through Southeast Asia and the California coast. Begin the trek of bites with the crispy beef ribeye rolls, filled with sliced beef, onion, carrots, sesame and served with fennel kimchi. From there, experiment with the flavors of cymbopogon: lemongrass cooked in garlic, either with the sea bass that’s served with a cold mango and cilantro noodle salad or with the Kurobuta pork shoulder. Dessert unites cultural fusion with the banana beignets, cooked to a crisp alongside coconut gelato and sesame seeds. For reservations call 650.325.8500 546 University Avenue. Open for lunch Monday through Friday from 11:30AM to 2:30PM. Dinner hours are Sunday through Thursday from 5PM to 9PM; Friday and Saturday from 5PM to 10PM.
Courtesy of Stella Alpina Osteria
Stella Alpina Osteria
Burlingame
The Alps are alive in the lowlands of Burlingame at this downtown mainstay, a vision from Chef Matteo Ferrari. Stella Alpina Osteria is a celebration of the chef’s native cuisine, imported from the alpine Piedmont region. The menu features longstanding favorites such as a housemade potato gnocchi that uses a recipe sourced straight from Matteo’s nonna along with braised meats and the signature Veal Osso Buco over Mascarpone Polenta. Uncork a bottle of Barbera d’Asti, add a pair of wine glasses and say cheers to the eve of romantic gush with that one person who doesn’t mind a touch of sentimentality. For reservations call 650.347.5733 401 Primrose Road. Open daily from 5PM to 8:30PM.
ASA
Los Altos
ASA’s menu is divided into a few categories including field, sea and pasture. A blend of panache from Spanish, Italian and American influences, ASA offers a softly-lit dining experience that’s perfect for relaxed conversation. Fetched from the field is a roasted yellow bell pepper filled with a garlic crema. The haul from the sea features crispy-skinned rainbow trout: a boneless, pink fillet basted with a herb lemon preserve. And fresh from the pasture is a tender New York cut-steak served á la Argentina alongside chimichurri with sautéed spinach and silky mashed potatoes. The approach has proven successful: its ASA South sister location in Los Gatos was recently honored with Michelin’s 2021 Bib Gourmand award. For reservations call 650.935.2372 242 State Street. Open Tuesday through Saturday from 5PM to 8:30PM. Closed on Sunday and Monday.
It’s said that during his off-season, Michael Jordan trained with the Joffrey Ballet. One look at his iconic vertical leap, and it’s apparent. In fact, many sports figures commit to rigorous dance training to obtain an advantage over their opponents. Why? Because ballet, more than most other dance disciplines, is anchored in metadata.
“Ballet is a study of small, incremental movements,” says Christine Leslie, executive director and CEO of San Mateo’s Peninsula Ballet Theatre (PBT). “It’s a discipline of the body and the mind. Once you get a pattern or sequence down, you never forget it. You can take a class anywhere in the world, and it will be taught the same.”
For 55 years, PBT has enchanted and educated locals through performances and programming. The company’s Winter 2022 season opens on February 12 with a live performance of Guys and Dolls, the theatre’s first-ever musical production, followed by Cinderella in March, which will feature new choreography by Gregory Amato, the company’s artistic director and adult class instructor.
Sustaining a successful arts program is notoriously difficult, and the company attributes its longevity to a loyal community of fans and participants. So, this isn’t a sad story about a non-profit on the brink of collapse. Quite the opposite. This is the story of a group of administrators, instructors and performers who function as a family, and that family’s expansion is rooted in its dance school and classes.
“We’re in the business of making art,” Christine says of the company she’s been a part of for more than 40 years. She’s watched dancers grow from students in their school to principals heading up their performances. And, that evolution is made possible by the educational programming offered.
The company’s youth programming begins with aspiring dancers as young as six. There are several levels of classes in which students can ultimately apprentice in a performance or go on to study dance at the college level. These schools are the backbone of a successful program like the San Francisco Ballet.
The adult classes, however, are entirely different as they are more about the pleasure of combining movement to music and engaging your mind for a holistic whole-body workout.
The benefits of the adult classes, regardless of the skill level, stretch beyond the physical. “Our adult classes are about the joy of dance, not about technique. Included in that is the joy of music and movement,” says Gregory.
As music by French composer Fauré plays in the background, these adult class offerings include a beginner bootcamp where part of the curriculum is learning the language of ballet.
“All of the steps are in French and as we describe the steps,” Gregory says, “you learn them in French first.” He notes that this is their most popular class, and they’ve had to expand their sessions. “People are coming back to dance,” he observes, “especially those who did it when they were younger. As adults, they are in a different mind space that is more about being with other people, simply dancing.”
Gregory and the company are noticing how ballet is no longer considered an “elitist art form.” They are seeing more young people who may not have had the opportunity to be exposed to ballet. “I love this art form and think it has something to say,” Gregory affirms. “It enriches the mind and the soul. And it helps us have better humanity. The more people we get into the theater, the more people we will touch.”
Hybrid workouts are now customary and though you wouldn’t think ballet could benefit from this form of learning, both Gregory and Christine admit that the remote classes have worked well for them. They are even planning to expand their virtual programming in the coming months.
“It was hard adjusting to virtual at first, because everything we do here is hands-on and visual and so many of the movements are about aesthetics,” explains Gregory. “With the technology, we are able to zero in on a move, on a positioning, which is beneficial for the students,” adds Christine.
Gregory is also quick to distinguish the company’s classes from fitness trends like Barre and Pure Barre. “Those classes have nothing to do with ballet,” he says emphatically. “They are all focused on cardio and weight loss. If you were to dismantle those moves, you’d see that the only thing that they have in common is a bar.”
When Gregory joined the company four years ago, he worked to expand the class offerings for both adults and children. He’s found success, in part, due to the fact that people often underestimate how ballet influences us every day.
“Our next goal is to grow our outreach program to reach people who might not have the opportunity to go see these types of performances,” he says. “We go to schools and introduce students to classical ballet and show them that the dances they see on TikTok are often rooted in ballet.”
Snuggled up on a cushioned lounge chair on a private deck perched directly over Sausalito’s lapping shoreline, I’m mesmerized by the views unfolding in front of me. Dusk is setting in, and I can just make out the outline of Alcatraz Island as the lights on the Bay Bridge begin to pop against the darkening sky. With a deep contented sigh, I relax into the flickering warmth of the indoor-outdoor gas fireplace next to me.
“All the craziness of the world goes away when you close that door,” observes Kass Green, one of the owners of The Inn Above Tide, a waterfront boutique hotel in this Marin coastal hamlet. “You’re in this magical space with the San Francisco Bay out in front of you—it’s just the views and the calm.”
Despite numerous visits over the years, this facet of Sausalito is new to me. Living in such close proximity, I’ve always thought of the picturesque seaside town as a jam-packed day jaunt, so my curiosity was piqued by the opportunity to experience Sausalito as an extended getaway. Anticipating a weekend of active replenishment, we packed our bags, loaded up our bikes and jumped on 280. Quick trip, indeed. An hour later, we arrived at our destination.
Courtesy of Shirley Berman
A Stay on the Bay
As a tourist haven drawing visitors from all over the U.S.—and even around the world—Sausalito offers a wide mix of accommodations ranging from historic properties to upscale hotels and spas to quaint B&Bs. For a “Box Seat on the Bay,” you can’t get closer access than The Inn Above Tide, a contemporary luxury hotel built (literally) over the water.
Back in the early 1960s, William McDevitt saw its former incarnation—a machine shop for the ferries and parking lot—and recognized the untapped potential of the spectacular setting. He initially developed the site as an apartment building before opening his dream hotel in 1995. With 33 rooms and suites, The Inn Above Tide is now owned by McDevitt’s children, Kass and two brothers, who evolved the accommodations from nautical quaintness to indulgent waterfront retreat. Every room delivers panoramic views with expansive suites (as large as 1,000 square feet) providing next-level luxury with features extending to furnished overwater decks, intimate dining areas and lavish spa tubs. “There’s this serene blanket that kind of wraps around you when you walk inside the hotel,” says Kass, “but just steps away, you’ve got all of Sausalito—all the great restaurants and cute stores and access to all kinds of activities.”
Courtesy of Sea Trek
Backdrop for Adventure
A forester and cartographer by trade, Kass parlayed her professional background and passion for Sausalito into the creation of an Adventure Map, which captures recommended hiking, driving and biking routes for nearby attractions including the Marin Headlands, Angel Island and Tennessee Valley. “It’s easy to look at San Francisco and stay glued in that direction,” Kass notes, “but I wanted to share that there’s this wildland experience that’s within footsteps of Sausalito.”
To encourage exploration, the hotel offers complimentary use of touring bikes—and there are additional rental opportunities (with and without power assist) at Sausalito Bike Rentals in town. Scenic, mostly flat, stretches abound, including Sausalito’s buzzy waterfront Bridgeway and the 2.4-mile Mill Valley–Sausalito Bike Path. Knowing that we wanted to tackle the Marin Headlands, we brought my e-bike (my source of cycling superpowers) along for the ride.
After winding our way up Alexander Avenue out of Sausalito, we ascend to jaw-dropping vistas at Battery Spencer and Hawk Hill. From there, the 18% “Whoo-Hoo!”-grade down hits like a roller coaster adrenaline rush, banked against cliffside drops to the Pacific. Our ride continues through rolling hills marked by spottings of military bunkers, the Nike Missile site, the Marine Mammal Center, along with Rodeo Beach and Lagoon.
Kass also created a Sausalito Step Walk, a turn-by-turn guide for getting in steps while exploring the fascinating chapters in Sausalito’s history. Initially a small settlement selling fresh water to mariners, the city’s rich lore includes being a bootlegging base during Prohibition, a bustling WWII shipyard, a Bohemian haven in the 1960s, and of course, a timeless tourist destination. Our hike through Sausalito’s hilly neighborhoods feels like a treasure hunt, leading us up hidden stairways, along lush pathways and past stunning homes and mansions, punctuated by countless declarations of, “Wow! Look at that view!”
The San Francisco skyline is omnipresent in the distance, but up close, it’s all about Richardson Bay, the resplendent body of water named for the English seaman who founded Sausalito after receiving a Mexican land grant in 1838. To honor the setting, we turn to Sea Trek, a one-stop resource for stand-up paddleboarding and kayaking, including classes, guided excursions and rentals. After an easy dry launch from a dock, we set out in a double kayak, interspersing bouts of coordinated paddling with quiet moments of floating and contemplation. We find ourselves enchanted by the seabirds soaring overhead, the bobbing heads of harbor seals and the eclectic colors and styles of Sausalito’s houseboat communities. When the sun breaks through the morning fog, we see the clouds perfectly mirrored in the water.
Courtesy of Copita
Fueling the Fun
Taking full advantage of our suite with a view, we enjoy our hotel’s complimentary evening wine and cheese and continental breakfast service—with a special callout to the fresh-squeezed orange juice. Given that Sausalito is also known for its chic boutiques and dining, we’re not surprised to discover dozens of restaurants within an easy stroll. Seated on Bar Bocce’s patio overlooking bobbing boats (Sausalito has 13 marinas), we make lunch of a shaved artichoke salad and mushroom pizza with fontina, caramelized onion and garlic. Visit Monday through Thursday and you can play a game of bocce before or after your meal. At Sausalito Bakery & Cafe, we claim a bayfront window nook while we nosh on a tuna nicoise salad and roast turkey sandwich with cranberry and brie.
For dinner, we select Copita, a vibrant modern Mexican eatery and tequileria created by cookbook author Joanne Weir and longtime Sausalito resident Larry Mindel. After our waiter Bernardo talks us through the menu and Copita’s 60 brands of tequila, we clink glasses of red sangria (picking up distinctive accents of cinnamon and cloves) and a Copita margarita, followed by a Maestro Dobel reposado, which will be sipped and savored through the meal. We relish chef Aaron Sabido’s deliciously spiced and tangy mix of seafood in the Coconut Campechano ceviche and tuck into the flavorful Quesabirria (slow-cooked lamb and Oaxaca cheese quesadillas) and Enchiladas de Pollo en Mole Manchamanteles.
Courtesy of Felipe Passalacqua
During our stay, we also score a table at the award-winning Sushi Ran. Founded in 1986 by famed chef/owner Yoshi Tome, Sushi Ran maintains its reputation as one of the top Japanese restaurants in the U.S. As we sip our selections of warm sake and Japanese whisky, we enjoy a starter of Shrimp & Basil Dumplings before focusing on the dazzling display of fresh fish—a sushi plate sampler (six offerings including nigiri of maguro, salmon, hamachi and ebi) and delectable maki, including a spicy tuna with seven types of Japanese spice.
Walking back to our hotel, we remark that Sausalito’s nights are blissfully quiet. So it’s the muffled notes of live music that draw us into the No Name Bar, a venerable Sausalito nightclub and hangout since 1959. We grab two drafts and find a table to soak up the atmosphere and familiar tunes from Fleetwood Mac and Steely Dan. Knowing that there’s no Golden Gate Bridge to traverse tonight, we settle into the scene, grateful that we’re only steps away from our waterfront home away from home.
Can you imagine a seven-pound diamond? You’re looking at one. I’m what Humane Society Silicon Valley (HSSV) refers to as a “Diamond in the Ruff.” I was brought to HSSV because my owner couldn’t take care of me anymore, and I was super shy at first because everything felt unfamiliar. Knowing that I needed a low-key home where I could adjust at my own pace, HSSV put me into their “Diamond in the Ruff” program for special-needs animals, and that’s how Kimberly found me. She took one look at my sweet Chihuahua-mix face and knew I was meant to be her “Chica.” Sure enough, when I’m with Kimberly and her friends, they treat me like I’m one of the girls. It’s such a relief to feel calm and secure again—Kimberly swears it’s the spa music she plays for me, and I do find it lulling and relaxing. Even though I was initially shy, it didn’t take me long to show how sweet and affectionate I can be. Now Kimberly takes me everywhere—I love to speed walk (I can go for miles and miles), dine in outdoor restaurants and travel too. Since I’m so small, I’m always happy to hang out in Kimberly’s little carry bag—which lets me pop my head out so I can see everything. Kimberly thinks of me as her little gem and even told her friends, “Since I got her, every day has been seven pounds happier.”
An undeniable impression lingers after taking a simple stroll through the Allied Arts Guild in Menlo Park and for some, Sharona Wolff included, its influence may become everlasting.
Before she evolved into a goldsmith, Sharona was creative without an outlet as she wandered by the Davide Bigazzi Studio one afternoon in 2014.
“I walked past here and Davide had a sign saying ‘Jewelry Classes,’” she remembers. “I walked in and said, ‘Do you really teach people? When do I start?’ I had never done it before but if we’re lucky in life, we’ll meet someone like Davide.”
Raised in Australia, Sharona had moved to the U.S. following some 20 years working in the tech world and as an international executive of Bentley Engineering Ltd. She was drawn to the Bigazzi Studio—a workshop with a distinct aroma: a bouquet of metal, steel and copper all melded together—because it resonated deeply. She continues to work out of the Florentine master goldsmith’s studio and has even led classes there herself.
“I thought about it for a while,” she says of becoming a jeweler, “and in a sense, it was a natural fit. I did grow up surrounded by gold and mining …”
On the website for her business, Atelier Wolff, which she launched in 2018, you’ll discover examples of her radiant jewellery (she opts for the British-Australian spelling). Platinum granulation is her signature as are earrings of gold and rings that pop with brilliant gems.
These are pieces meant to be worn, and absolutely meant to be seen.
Spotted on Sharona’s finger is a ring that’s dark blue with vitreous edges. The stone is tanzanite and the ring happens to be the second piece of jewelry she ever made as a student in Bigazzi’s class. He had tried to warn her that the design was too complicated for a novice jeweler; nevertheless, Sharona insisted. She included 46 solders in the custom 17-gram pink gold and continues to don the blue bijou as a totem for her evolution.
“I’ve had some men ask if this is women’s jewelry—no, I make it with a person in mind,” she clarifies. “Some people have said, ‘Why don’t you use more diamonds?’ I like color. And I predominately make gold jewelry. What I don’t make are very small pieces. What I’m looking at here is the jewelry that I always wanted to make as a child. It has a presence. It is a statement.”
During a recent rainy afternoon, Sharona has the Bigazzi Studio all to herself. Sounds from her favorite composer, Johann Sebastian Bach, waft from the corner. She inherited her love of Bach from her father, who was of German descent and moved to Australia to work in the mining industry. Sharona’s mother is an environmentalist and her parents’ influence of explorative geology and eco-awareness guides Sharona in her work. She only works with lapidaries she knows and trusts who assure her that the miners who unearthed these gems were paid and treated fairly, and that none were children.
Sharona is the eldest of three siblings and began absorbing languages by the time she was ten when a mining manager’s wife taught her Spanish. Today, Sharona has acquired German, Italian, Japanese, and several Pacific Island dialects and cites Russian, Arabic and Hebrew as next on her language list.
As the daughter of mining parents who traversed Australia, Africa and Asia, Sharona grew accustomed to rapid relocation. She lived in over 20 different places before becoming an adult and she once stayed at a school for just two weeks before jetting off again. (Menlo Park is the 34th place she’s lived.) She embraced the nomadic upbringing and relished in the breadth of life experiences.
Upon receiving her degree from the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology with a major in cartography, Sharona directed the flight chart production of the Royal Australian Air Force and later transferred into tech.
When she was 15 years old, the notorious pop hit “My Sharona” had entered the air waves and she’s rolled her eyes ever since. “I’ve been to a few places where they played it on my first day of work,” she admits.
Cartography and geomatics, in addition to serving her well with jewelry design, are repeatedly referenced throughout her life. She describes cartography as spatial relationships that underpin our entire social infrastructure.
“It’s not a map, per se, it’s a relationship to where we are and how we interact,” she explains. “Cartography is the basis for UPS and FedEx delivering your parcels. It’s a positioning system. One of my favorite places in the world is the Herzog August Library in Wolfenbüttel, Germany. It was established in 1572 and you go in and see the map Vasco da Gama used when going around the Cape of Good Hope. It’s absolutely fascinating to walk through there and all of a sudden you see what you learned in school. Then you start to see globes that draw you in … you want to reach out and touch them—but, of course, you can’t!”
Each piece of Atelier Wolff jewelry is entwined with such storytelling. For instance, while viewing cylinder seals at The Morgan Library & Museum in New York, Sharona was captivated by the symbolism, myths and legends encrusted on these ancient seals. Some stretched back to the Fertile Crescent Era when the sculpted seals had once served as an identity document (similar to what a driver’s license is today) that stored a person’s personal information.
Sharona wanted to create a piece of jewelry that celebrated this influence. She found a carver in Los Angeles who delicately engraved floral imagery and decorations and now the Atelier Wolff collection includes seals inspired by the past but worn for today’s admiration.
“People interpret what we wear. That’s what we do with jewelry or clothing—any adornment really,” Sharona reasons. “When the queen wears her ceremonial jewelry—it’s power, or the story of power. Why do kings wear crowns? They are regalia and symbols of power and authority. It’s telling an interesting story. Kissing the Pope’s ring—that’s a story. It’s telling the story and the believer is buying it while giving it power.”
An active mother of four who resides in Atherton, Marnie Marcin made a commitment to herself that she’d save space for her morning, meditative strolls. The apex of these ambles is the top of “Valpo Hill” in Sharon Heights Park, where this Perfect Shot struck her, “as the clouds appeared to dance in the sky,” she says. “It’s a rejuvenating and mindful moment that helps me get going on a fresh, optimistic note, before diving headfirst into all the business of the day.”
Image by Marnie Marcin
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.
Entering Penflora in San Mateo feels like walking into a secret garden tucked in the midst of industrial buildings. A large archway crafted from tree branches, moss and live greenery frames the front entrance where owner Melissa Olson and her dogs greet you. As you wander through the expansive floral arts studio, you can see how Melissa has let her imagination run free—and how she embraces her own mission of “Accessorizing Your Life Through Plants.”
“Flowers and plants are the soul of a home,” she notes. “Nature is therapeutic and people have had a bit of an awakening to the impact plants can have on their lives.”
Dozens of intricate wreaths and arrangements share space with a florist refrigerator, an orchidarium and plants growing under lights. In Melissa’s office, an artful ceiling fixture made from dried flowers and natural materials showcases her whimsical style. “I am a forager,” she smiles. “My favorite time to collect things is after a storm. My friends laugh when they see me walking down the street collecting.”
For Melissa, it’s an ingrained pursuit—she traces her foliage-strewn path back to her childhood. “I grew up with plants everywhere and my parents had really beautiful gardens,” she remembers. “My mother was always doing arrangements on the fly.”
Melissa also acquired skills through Filoli’s landscape course “Through the Year in the Garden,” where she learned about soil and pruning. She went on to work with homeowners needing a garden refresh and new landscape. Melissa credits her background in landscape consulting with informing her design sensibility when it comes to floral creations.
Part florist studio, part workshop and garden boutique, Penflora offers a fresh take on floral design for Peninsula plant lovers. In the workshop section of Penflora’s many vignettes, Melissa points out a long wooden box. “We melted wax on it to give the feeling of ice and snow,” she relays. The box became a centerpiece for a Hillsborough Garden Club event, an organization in which she is a vital member. “People often bring me their own containers and I fill them with plants and flowers or a combination of both,” she says. “I love that, because the containers express the person’s personality so you can see what they want.”
After studying business at the University of San Diego, Melissa pursued a career in finance at Montgomery Securities in San Francisco. Originally from Sacramento, she and her husband Erik moved to Burlingame and then Hillsborough to raise their family of four boys.
“When I was pregnant with my first child, I ended up staying home and that’s when my creative world opened,” she recalls. Melissa eventually took over the garage and finally Erik suggested it was time to find a new spot. “I did a total makeover on this space, and I continue to tweak things,” she says of her San Mateo studio. “I’ll never be able to move out.” Her family has been very supportive of her business and her sons pitched in to help during the redesign of the space.
Melissa’s work ranges from containers to large-scale floral installations. “I love building stuff,” she summarizes, before describing a project. “I am going to build an arch over the window for the baker across the street—a branch is going to attach to metal work and it will change with the seasons.” Melissa acknowledges that working with living things does require extra attention to detail: “When I find logs and bits and pieces, I cook them at a low temperature to get the bugs out.”
Melissa’s love for plants runs deep. She believes that everyone has an innate tendency to seek a connection with nature and that living things bring energy and personality into a home. “From a health perspective, plants bring air purification, increased humidity and focus to your work,” she adds. “They also have a calming effect.” Melissa also keeps sustainability in the forefront at Penflora with composting and repurposing materials in nearly every aspect of the business. “I have a bent for things that last,” she says.
Throughout the year, Penflora offers classes ranging from wreath making to wearable floral necklaces made from natural materials and plants. “The first class I offered was succulent pumpkins and it was sold out in two minutes,” she says. “I work with things that are in season for each workshop. I think everyone is creative but they don’t have the time to explore it. Every person walks out with an amazing project and a lot of pride.”
Since opening its doors in September, Penflora has experienced some growing pains of a new business. “I don’t have foot traffic, so that is challenging,” Melissa reveals. “Also, I am a one-man show.” On the other hand, she has a strong network with neighboring businesses and has already collaborated on a few projects. “I like to bring beauty and I love bringing the community together,” she says. Melissa also supports other local artisans and sells their products such as honey from a local beekeeper, beeswax candles and bracelets.
Not held back by the traditional constraints of floral arranging, Melissa’s style reflects a new way to incorporate natural materials and plants in everyday life. “I see plants as art,” she emphasizes. “Plants can replace a statue or a decorative object. They make a house feel lived in.”
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