The Super Bowl of love is just around the corner. Cue all the arrangements for heart-shaped boxes of candy, flower bouquets, and romantic dinner dates. Here are a few other lovable suggestions that are variations on classic Valentine’s Day gift themes, and all are available in Sonoma County. Click through the above gallery for details.
When much-needed rain is pouring down, answer back in style with rainwear and other tools to help you enjoy (or endure) those splashes. Here are a few bright finds to keep you dry and moving cheerily toward spring. Click through the above gallery for details.
First it was Pete Buttigieg’s crystal-encrusted wine cave. Now it’s Justin Trudeau’s doughnut-gate. If there’s one thing that seems to spark controversy on social media these days, it’s politicians getting shiny — or glazed — things.
Just weeks after Buttigieg drew criticism for hosting a fancy fundraiser at an exclusive Napa Valley winery, the Canadian prime minister is under attack for buying $4 gourmet doughnuts (and posting evidence of this on Twitter).
Picked up some of Winnipeg’s best to keep us going through another full day of Cabinet meetings. Thanks for the fuel, @OhDoughnuts. #shoplocal pic.twitter.com/9vrgWnUdxo
— Justin Trudeau (@JustinTrudeau) January 20, 2020
To add to the doughnut drama: Trudeau got his pastries from the Winnipeg gourmet doughnut shop, Oh Doughnuts, and not from Canada’s immensely popular doughnut chain, Tim Hortons.
“Elitist,” said Canadians outraged by the price of the pastries and Trudeau’s destination for doughnut shopping. “It all depends on the doughnuts,” said the staff at Sonoma Magazine. (One person, who will remain unnamed, added: “what could be sweeter than the words ‘Justin Trudeau’ and ‘doughnuts’ in the same headline?”)
Now, we’ve never tried Oh Doughnuts’ take on the popular pastry, but we have paid $4 (and more) for Sonoma County doughnuts and we did not regret it one (fried) bit — as a matter of fact, if Justin Trudeau would like to come here and buy a few fancy doughnuts for our next staff meeting, we can only say: Mais Oui!
And so, Mr. Trudeau, if you are reading this, click through the above gallery for a few places where you can buy us doughnuts — sans controversy and regrets.
Don’t get Sondra Bernstein started on the joys of drinking wines made from the grenache grape.
“I could go on and on about grenache, as it’s my favorite of the Rhone varietals,” the Sonoma restaurateur and caterer said. “I love its versatility with food and the very different expressions that winemakers can create using the same variety.”
Two decades ago, Bernstein opened her first Sonoma County restaurant, the girl & the fig, in Glen Ellen and later moved it to the square in Sonoma and installed the fig café at the Glen Ellen space. At both restaurants, her wine lists focus on wines made from grapes native to France’s Rhone Valley: grenache, syrah, mourvedre, cinsault, viognier, marsanne and roussanne among them.
Now many of Bernstein’s vino offerings are locally made grenache, an emerging darling of Sonoma red wines that’s winning fans for its unabashed, zinfandel-like fruitiness, the spice of syrah and shiraz and the polish of Pinot Noir. It’s the key ingredient in what’s known throughout the world as GSMs — blends of grenache, syrah and mourvedre — the grape of choice for many dry rosés and cousin to the white grape grenache blanc.
But it’s grenache noir (grenache black) that’s capturing the palates of those seeking something new in a California red wine.
“Twenty years ago, wines made from grenache were far and few between here,” Bernstein said. “Maybe we had three or four when (the girl & the fig) opened in 1997, though none were from Sonoma. Now we feature over a dozen wines made from grenache and have many hundreds to choose from.”
The aroma and flavor descriptors for grenache run a wide gamut, from lavender, Bing cherry and plum to black pepper, licorice and Asian spice.
Some grenaches are opulent and jammy, others laser-focused, with fresh fruitiness and palate-whisking acidity, and still others earthy and brooding.
Grenache is widely planted throughout the world, including in the Central Valley, where massive yields of low-quality grapes go into jug and bag-in-box wines. It’s a niche variety in Sonoma County, with just 209 acres planted (vs. 12,478 acres of Cabernet Sauvignon). The variety loves a warm, Mediterranean climate, so climate change could encourage more plantings of grenache in future years.
There are a number of Sonoma tasting rooms that offer grenache, in its black, white and rosé forms. Some key producers don’t have tasting rooms, yet their wines can be found on restaurant lists and in wine bars. (Two to check out: Peter Mathis Wine and The Grenachista Wine Co.)
These five wineries welcome visitors to taste grenache and several other varieties. Check their websites for hours of operation and whether appointments are required.
Although Benovia partner and winemaker Mike Sullivan is largely known for his excellent Russian River Valley chardonnays and pinot noirs, he has a soft spot for grenache.
That’s because the grape is planted in his family’s Four Brothers Vineyard on Sonoma Mountain, where volcanic soils and aromatic wild herbs lend savory notes to the Benovia 2016 Sonoma Mountain Grenache ($42).
It shows the polished side of the varietal, layered and complex, with herb and saddle leather notes accenting the bright dark-red fruit. The supple tannins are supported by crisp acidity.
3339 Hartman Lane, Santa Rosa, 707-921-1040, benoviawinery.com.
Longtime residents of Alameda, Jeff and Alexandra Cohn moved their winemaking from Oakland to Santa Rosa and established a tasting room in downtown Sonoma. Jeff worked for years with Rosenblum Cellars owner/winemaker Kent Rosenblum in Alameda, while launching Jeff Cohn Cellars on the side.
Syrahs in several forms — including two made in collaboration with Rhone Valley winemakers — are the most obvious of Cohn’s wines, yet his 2016 El Diablo Vineyard Russian River Valley Grenache ($45) is noteworthy for its bold richness, minerality and structure.
The 2016 Misc. Stuff Sonoma County ($55), a blend of grenache, syrah and mourvedre, is smoky and savory, with a chocolate note to the ripe blueberry and blackberry fruit.
535 First Street West, Sonoma, 707-938-8343, jeffcohncellars.com.
Erik Miller started the Kokomo label in 2004, and in 2008 partnered with grapegrower Randy Peters, who farms vines in Dry Creek Valley, Russian River Valley and the Sonoma Coast.
Zinfandel and pinot noir are Kokomo staples, though the 2018 Pauline’s Vineyard Dry Creek Valley Grenache Rosé ($26), 2017 Dry Creek Valley Grenache ($38) and 2017 Cuvee Red Blend Sonoma County ($26), with a wallop of grenache and syrah, show Miller’s deft hand with the grenache grape. “Grenache has a great future in Dry Creek Valley,” Miller said. “We’ve only scratched the surface.”
4791 Dry Creek Road, Healdsburg, 707-433-0200, kokomowines.com.
In 1977, Charles and Molly Meeker bought their first vineyard on West Dry Creek Road in Healdsburg and started their winery in 1984. Charlie, a movie executive in Los Angeles, made the wines on weekends and became known for his zinfandels and merlots.
The Meekers sold the Dry Creek Road property (now Bella Vineyards + Wine Caves) in the late 1990s and established a new winery near downtown Healdsburg. Charlie turned over day-to-day winemaking to his son, Lucas, in 2007.
Lucas has a way with grenache, which is quickly becoming one of Meeker’s most popular wines. The 2016 Hoskins Ranch Dry Creek Valley Grenache ($38) has crisp acidity, firm tannins and a core of juicy cherry, dark berry and strawberry-rhubarb flavors. The 2017 Reserve Hoskins Ranch Dry Creek Grenache ($45) is a cut above.
21035 Geyserville Ave., Geyserville, 707-431-2148, meekerwine.com.
George Unti and his son, Mick, founded Unti Vineyards in 1997, based on their shared love of Rhone Valley and Italian wines. Their Dry Creek Valley vineyards and wines made from them reflect their tastes, and grenaches noir and blanc are particular favorites.
The 2018 Dry Creek Valley Grenache Blanc ($28) is made in a high-acid, scintillating chablis style. On the red side, the 2016 Dry Creek Valley Grenache ($35) has heady aromas and succulent dark-red fruit character, with mouthwatering acidity.
A Grenache-Mourvedre-Syrah blend, the 2016 Dry Creek Valley Cuvée Foudre ($55), was aged in large oak casks and combines the lively raspberry fruit of grenache and the firmer tannins and earthiness of Mourvedre and Syrah. It’s pure, complex and with a lingering finish.
4202 Dry Creek Road, Healdsburg, 707-433-5590, untivineyards.com. Open daily but by appointment only
January and February are citrus season in Sonoma, which is easy to forget because supermarkets are filled with it year-round and most of it is pretty good. Citrus keeps well and can be shipped long distances without a compromise in quality. But it’s best in winter, when we most need its dose of bright color and lift-me-up flavor.
Meyer lemons are a thin-skinned, sweeter-flavored cousin to the more common Eureka lemons and can be found in supermarkets, farmers markets, and, often enough, your neighbor’s garden. This tangy seasonal relish is adapted from a recipe in A. Cort Sinnes’ book “Mad About Meyer Lemons.”
Makes about 1 cup
Remove the seeds from the lemon slices; cut the slices into small dice.
Put the lemons into a medium bowl, add the shallots, vinegar, parsley, and chives and toss together gently. Season with salt and pepper, taste, and correct as needed.
Cover and let rest for 30 minutes so that the flavors will blossom and mingle.
Leftover relish will keep, covered and refrigerated, for up to five days.
• Tossed with hot pasta and a generous splash of olive oil
• Alongside roasted vegetables, meats, or poultry
• Drizzled over summer tomatoes or zucchini
• Spread on top of a cream-cheese bagel
• As a garnish for steamed rice, quinoa, farro, or barley
• Spooned over halved avocados or drizzled over avocado toast
Sonoma-based artist Kathryn Clark surveys a wall of her studio where a hand-stitched assemblage of pale-gray fabric swatches is affixed to a board with pearl-headed push pins. “Homage to Democracy,” as the work is called, is splashed in the light, and Clark, a self-described activist, is contemplating her next move.
The piece will become a 7×7-foot translucent tapestry representing both a map of Washington, D.C., and what Clark sees as the disintegration of government by the people, one cotton-organdy city block at a time. Clark arms herself with densely detailed city plans tattooed with colorful legends, bolts of cloth from one of San Francisco’s few remaining fabric stores, and a list of heady books that illuminate the smoldering social and political fires of the 21st century — predatory lending, demagoguery, money laundering, war-time refugees. From these sources, she produces large-format fabric works that express with quiet urgency the corrosive effects of the world’s most insidious threats, both visible and clandestine.
“There is this chipping away at our Constitution that happens daily now,” she says, gesturing toward what is the first in a series of quilt works that will include cities like Kyiv, Caracas, Hong Kong, Budapest, and London. “I offer a geopolitical perspective on politics through maps of cities where democracy is flailing.”
Clark moved to the town of Sonoma full time in July 2019 with her family after first purchasing her house, just a 15-minute walk from the Plaza, in 2011 as a getaway from San Francisco. “I love Sonoma all year, but fall and winter are really why I love it here,” she says. “The weekend crowds have mostly disappeared, the Plaza lighting ceremony kicks off the holiday season, and the restaurants shift their menus to reflect what’s growing around us.”
Born in Knoxville, Tennessee, and raised in Tallahassee, Florida, Clark is the product of a Bauhaus marriage: her father was an architect, her mother a textile artist who died of leukemia when Clark was only 17. She studied art and architecture and ultimately found her way to urban planning, where she worked under New Urbanism visionary Peter Calthorpe.
While her interest in architecture followed her father’s career, she did not associate her textile talent with her mother until she married, had a child, and began experimenting with painting and photography as a stay-at-home mom. “I remembered my mom’s huge loom,” she says. “And then I had an epiphany: No wonder I wanted to work in textiles.”
In 2011, as she was turning 40, the artist stumbled upon her calling, creating large-scale works that bring light to issues of social justice. “The goal of my work is to provoke a conversation,” she says. “But I’m an introvert, so this is my way of speaking out.”
Clark synthesizes the information she gathers from books, articles, podcasts, and Instagram feeds for months or even years before beginning to execute, vetting ideas and designs with organized peer reviews.
Public institutions, not private collections, are where she strives to have her work shown.
Her “Washington, D.C. Foreclosure Quilt,” was purchased by the Smithsonian’s Renwick Gallery. The quilt-and-embroidery piece, rendered in linen, cotton, and recycled thread, documents the effects of the 2007 recession and the economic distress of the subprime mortgage crisis that lingered long after disappearing from the headlines. Comparable maps for Detroit, Cleveland, Miami, Las Vegas, Albuquerque, and other municipalities followed.
In 2018 she completed “Paul Manafort Money Laundering Blanket,” which depicts the glittering zig-zagging of transcontinental bling from the U.S. to Belgium, Ukraine, Russia, Cyprus, and the Grenadines, in hand-embroidery and beading on cotton organdy and gold silk. Her “Refugee Stories,” shown at the Riverside Art Museum in Riverside, California, uses embroidered panels to illustrate the path of Syrian refugees into Western Europe.
Clark, her husband, Dave, and their daughter had lived in San Francisco’s West Portal neighborhood for 13 years before they bought the home in Sonoma. In the house, she discovered an original hand-colored drawing as well as a photocopy of a magazine feature about the home from April 1948.
The home had come in a kit designed by draftsman Alpha Sehlin, known for marketing “Affordable Swank for the WWII Generation.” Clark’s own take: “Mid-century for the working class.”
Also appealing was the compact, 950-square-foot floor plan, the third-of-an-acre lot crammed with raised garden beds, and a slower pace of life (locals are “more relaxed and less cutthroat” than in the city, she says). Among other improvements, Clark and her husband refurbished the kitchen and planted a dwarf olive tree in an established mini orchard of lemon, plum, apricot, pear, nectarine, and cherry trees.
She also decorated the walls with paintings, prints, drawings, and textural pieces by artists she finds inspiring, including Robert Motherwell, Kiki Smith, Sonya Philip, ReCheng Tsang, and her 83-year-old mentor, San Francisco artist Myrna Tatar.
Then she turned her attention to the yellow tumbledown shed in the backyard. After it was determined to be beyond rehabilitation, she tore it down and designed a gleaming-white, board-and-batten box to her own exacting specifications.
Measuring 640 square feet with a ceiling that soars to 16 feet at its peak, and large windows in loadbearing places that made Clark’s contractor squawk, the studio is a spry younger sibling to the main house across the courtyard. It features a storage loft, a guest bedroom, a small library-lounge, and a large trussed work table.
It’s here in her self-designed and purpose-built studio that Clark’s maps, fabrics, tracing paper, sewing machine, iron, rotary cutters, and spools of thread are scattered about like decorative objects: the tools of an artist whose work is anything but decorative.
We’ve updated this 2020 story to include some new oyster spots in Sonoma and Marin counties.
It’s oyster season. At least technically, since January, February, March and April have an “r” in them, which makes them safe, according to popular lore. Though a true oyster lover’s passion for the briny little creatures is bound by no calendar, the cold waters of winter truly make it the best time to shuck, slurp, and savor our favorite bivalves.
Here’s the twist: As close as Sonoma residents are to oyster nirvana (aka Tomales Bay), I’ve always held to the idea that an oyster is an oyster no matter where you eat it, coast or no coast.
Sure, there is that whole sea-air thing, and the winter months are a lovely time to visit the North Coast — so I’ve decided to split the difference, heading from Petaluma to the tiny towns of Tomales and Bodega Bay then winding back a few miles to Valley Ford. It’s my take on an adventure-filled, slightly-off-the-beaten-path loop to uncover the ultimate oyster-eating spots.
Ready to go? Shell yeah!
THE ORDER: Half-dozen raw oysters, two baked Bingos, and a 2018 Pinot Gris-Chenin Blanc blend, because that’s how I roll.
THE SCENE: The restaurant is barely open for the day, but I’ve got to get an early start. Two dozen oysters aren’t gonna get in my belly on their own. Behind the counter, restaurant owner Jazmine Lalicker is tackling a pile of unshucked oysters with a quick flick of the wrist. The sunny bench seats by the window (with pillows) haven’t yet been snapped up.
I always forget how much I love the small, unassuming Kumamotos. If you’re a beginner, start with these sweeter petite half-shells and work your way up to larger, chewier oysters. The Bingos, however, I’ll dream about all day. A mixture of Cognac, mayonnaise, Parmesan, and garlic makes a crispy and browned crust. Bonus points for the oyster liquor that pools inside the shell, perfumed with garlic. I’m not afraid to admit I licked the shells — even though a small child looked at me with utter disdain.
REGRETS: Not taking a flying leap into the day with an oyster shooter.
100 Washington St., 707-981-7891, theshuckeryca.com
THE ORDER: Half-dozen raw oysters on the half-shell and seafood chowder with a crisp and minerally white wine. You don’t sit at a bar and order a Shirley Temple. Nor does it really go with oysters.
THE SCENE: Belly up to Marin’s oldest saloon, just across the county line. Though the dining room and outdoor patio are delightful, the antique wood bar is much more convivial. Take a peek at the to-and-from chalkboard where you can see which locals have bought a round or two for a fellow drinker. The full menu is available at the bar, from oyster po’boys to chowder, fish tacos, and smoked trout salad. To make dining easier, you get a wooden tray that extends the eating surface — convenient to oyster-liquor sippers. Raw oysters are served on ice, which is so much nicer than piles of salt. Ice-cold oysters with a touch of mignonette, sip of wine, spoon of hot chowder. Repeat. Everything is so right with the world.
REGRET: The oyster po’boy I didn’t have.
26955 Highway 1, 707-879-2002, williamtellhouse.com
Digestion is about the most exciting part of this leg of the trip. Not that the drive to Bodega Bay isn’t lovely, but a combination of rogue farm implements, bicycle riders, and winding roads along these windswept hills requires attentive driving rather than rubbernecking.
THE ORDER: Half-dozen raw oysters, five cooked. Margarita, rocks.
THE SCENE: Like walking into your super-cool grandma’s house. Everything here is warm and cozy, brightly colored, with a slightly Southern drawl. It’s easier to plop down at the bar than sit alone in the dining room. Plus, it’s a lot funnier to listen in to someone else’s conversation than the one in your head saying, “God, I don’t know if I can eat another oyster.” I pray over the margarita a little. The Tomales oysters are a little bigger than I’m hoping, but the jalapeño-honey mignonette adds just the right sweetness to the briny raw oysters. I’m more excited about the baked oysters. Their signature Rocker Oysterfeller is a cheeky take on the old school Oyster Rockefeller, made with arugula, bacon, cream cheese, and a cornbread crust. That and the Estero Gold cheese-blanketed oysters are delish, but I fall in love with the Louisiana Hots, an oyster bathed in hot sauce and garlic butter. My resolve is renewed, I can eat at least one more oyster. With a little more garlic butter this time.
REGRET: Being afraid of the Hangtown Fry. Not hanging out with my bar mates just a little longer.
14415 Highway 1, 707-876-1983, rockeroysterfellers.com
THE ORDER: Half-dozen barbecued oysters, coffee.
THE SCENE: Fishing boats and crab pots along Bay Flat Road are within oyster-shell-throwing distance. I’m headed for what looks like a bait and tackle shop because, well, it is. That is not mutually exclusive to also selling some dang good barbecued oysters with garlic butter. These aren’t the tiny sweet ones, but hearty, palm-sized oysters that can put up a fight with the shuckers. Overly optimistic tourists huddle outside on picnic tables. Locals gather at the tiny tables and bar stools inside, gingerly slurping the hot oysters served on the half-shell and laughing at the shivering tourists. Slivers of extra-garlicky garlic bread are ideal for sopping up any remaining juices. I could now safely repel a vampire, should it come to that.
REGRET: Coffee and oysters taste awful together.
1850 Bay Flat Road, 707-377-4238, fishermanscovebodegabay.com
As the sun drops in my rearview mirror and the oyster shells cease crunching under my tires, I take a deep breath — or at least as much as one can with two dozens oysters in tow. What’s become obvious is that oysters are delicious no matter where you eat them, so long as they’re freshly shucked, the wine is cold, and the company is good.
“Cooking together or sharing food is a great way to learn about someone else. It bridges generations, and it’s a really beautiful and safe way to interact with each other,” says Gwen Gunheim, co-owner of downtown Santa Rosa’s Miracle Plum marketplace — a haven for local foodies — and cofounder of its popular cookbook club.
The club, which meets every two to three months, began in January 2019 with just 22 members and has since grown to over 100. At each gathering, members bring dishes from a cookbook chosen in advance and share a potluck meal. “What’s so cool is that the club is made up of people who are as curious about food as we are, and we’re just sitting around talking,” says co-owner Sallie Miller. “It’s literally bringing people together around food.”
Aura-Lee Salmeron of Sebastopol attended her first meeting last June. “They choose really great cookbooks … and I like to experiment,” she said. “Plus, we get to eat together, and I get to meet new people.” Salmeron also feels good about the club’s request for a small donation that goes to a charity of the cookbook author’s choice.
Members include both beginning home cooks and professionals, and the atmosphere is non-intimidating. “We tell them, ‘Bring what you can,’” says Miller. “The whole point is that you come to share.”
This January’s cookbook selection is “Heirloom” by Sarah Owens, a lushly photographed homage to traditional food practices such as preserving, fermenting, and sourdough baking. It’s a warming choice for the winter season, which, Gunheim says, “feels like a time for community.”
The club’s next meeting, featuring recipes from “Waste Not: How to Get the Most from Your Food” by The James Beard Foundation, is Sunday, April 19, at Miracle Plum, 208 Davis St., Santa Rosa. You don’t need to have purchased the book at the store to participate. Suggested donation $5-$20. Call 707-708-7986 for more information. RSVP hi@miracleplum.com.
Chef Chris Ball of Cotati’s Down to Earth Cafe didn’t know he wanted to open a second location in Windsor, but when opportunity came knocking last December, he answered. Or, maybe more appropriately, he leapt at the sunny corner spot just off the Town Green that for several years has struggled to find an audience as Taco Lab, Boardwalk and, most recently, Cocina Mana.
Just a week in, however, Ball has quickly spun up a breakfast and lunch spot that’s finding a steady stream of fans. Sometimes a restaurant just happens to be the right concept in the right place at the right time.
The cafe is located just steps away from the sprawling, new(ish) Oliver’s Market, and Ball says the same kind of folks who shop for things like artisan cheese and local IPAs are usually those who appreciate his house-cured pastrami, brioche bread pudding French toast, hand-cut Kennebec fries or poached albacore tuna melt.
Having worked at a number of high-profile restaurants in the Bay Area as well as Scotland’s tony Witchery, Ball appreciates all the foam and tweezer plating but has turned his attention to elevating simple comfort food for a more everyday audience.
For example, take the green egg ring. Though it’s not dangerous to eat, a greyish-greenish ring around the yolk is a sign the eggs have probably been boiled too long and too hard. It’s a minor culinary detail to many but one Ball says he just hates to see on his plate.
“No self-respecting chef would serve an egg with a green ring (around the yolk).”
In the kitchen, Ball holds up half a hard-boiled egg, showing off a rich, yellow yolk that’s lighter on the edges and dark and creamy in the middle. It’s a perfect eight-minute egg. Having worked for more than six months on perfecting the six-minute ramen egg (it’s a quest, people), I appreciate the meticulous detail.
It’s not fancy food. It’s just good food without shortcuts or compromises, at a fair price. It’s food that’s down-to-earth.
Much of the lunch menu at the Windsor location is the same as at the Cotati restaurant, so if you’re a fan, you’re in luck. Breakfast (served all day) is unique to the Windsor restaurant, and though the dishes are familiar — scrambles, pancakes, French toast — they’re far from ordinary.
Green Avocado Toast, $12: I wanted to hate this dish, because $12 avocado toast? I’m tired of overpriced avocado toast. You’re tired of avocado toast. Ball’s version, however, is more colorful than a Lilly Pulitzer dress, with ripe green avocados, pink pickled onions, red and white shaved radish, a sunny hard-boiled egg (the good ones), ruby red cherry tomatoes and crisp sourdough bread with a drizzle of olive oil.
Chilaquiles a la Rafael, $14: My favorite dish (besides tamales) at Cocina Mana were their gut-filling chilaquiles. Ball has kept some of the staff and with them, this recipe. This version comes with two eggs and grilled toast and isn’t quite as spicy as the original, but it’s still a favorite.
Eggs Benedict, $13 to $24: There’s no ham in this version because Ball says he can’t find a local ham he really likes. Instead, get spinach and mushroom, house-cured bacon or fresh Dungeness crab. Meyer lemon Hollandaise is made fresh every few hours, which, if you know anything about this delicate sauce, is a good thing.
Brioche Bread Pudding French Toast, $9.50 to $11.50: Forget everything you know about French toast and dive into this luxurious sliced bread pudding with whipped cream and syrup. Don’t be a hero, and start with two slices. If you can eat three, you may risk diabetic coma.
Tuna Melt, $17: Fresh tuna is poached for this upgraded version of the classic. With a light lift from lemon and shredded lettuce with house-cut potato chips, it’s childhood elevated.
Pickled Beet and Arugula Salad, $14: A pile of peppery greens studded with pink pickled beets, herbed goat cheese, pickled onions, cara cara oranges and candied pecans with a light vinaigrette. I could eat this every day of my life and be happy.
Fish and Chips, $17 to $21: Fresh North Coast rock cod is dipped in a light beer batter (and plenty of cornstarch), giving it a lacy, fizzled crispness that crackles in your mouth rather than lying there like a sodden blanket. The fish is clean and whisper-light rather than a rubbery mess smelling of low tide. It’s a bit of a revelation served with hand-cut fries (pretty much no one goes to the trouble of making fries anymore), spicy remoulade, a wedge of grilled lemon and coleslaw.
Pastrami Reuben ($14): Ball’s house-cured pastrami is thinly sliced and slightly crisped, stacked with sauerkraut, Swiss and spicy remoulade on marbled rye. Each element of this sandwich plays nicely with its neighbor, rather than anyone trying to steal the show.
Butterscotch Pudding ($7): No melted butterscotch chips here (which tend to give short-cut puddings a gritty texture). Smoother than Michael Buble doing a Sam Smith cover in silk pajamas.
The restaurant is still getting its sea legs as Ball balances both restaurants, but it seems to have already found a fan base of existing patrons and new Windsorites seeking seriously tasty comfort food.
Your month-by-month passport to an outstanding 2020. We deliver a dozen perfectly timed experiences—from a backwoods foraging trip to a hike above it all to the quirkiest festival around—that get to the heart of what it means to play (and eat!) right now in Sonoma County. Ambitious? Yes. But we wouldn’t have it any other way.
