Pacific Coast Highway : the road trip part 4

Shopping was the main order of day 3 in this city known for its microbreweries and more importantly, tax-free shopping! Surrounding downtown Portland is a cluster of neighborhoods each with it’s own distinct character and the shops and restaurants to go with it. Suffice it to say, we did some major damage.

It was the morning of day 4 and, sadly, time to say our goodbyes to Therese and to Portland. However, I refused to leave without trying the legendary maple bacon log at Voodoo Doughnuts featured by Anthony Bourdain in his Pacific Northwest episode. It was even more sinful and scrumptious than I imagined it to be!

After punching in Seattle as the next destination on the GPS, we were on our merry way. Washington state was just as beautiful as I remembered. The Columbia River, Mt. Rainier, the Cascade mountains, Puget Sound, all of this made for a spectacular scenic drive.

My heart did a tiny backflip when the Seattle Space Needle came into view. I’d been to Seattle twice before but could never get enough of Pike’s Place Market. After a quick lunch and coffee from the very first Starbucks outlet, we explored the colorful, noisy aisles of the market. It was too soon when we left an hour later.

Crossing the US-Canadian border was pretty uneventful. The queues weren’t very long and we made it through without a hitch. It was 7:30 when I rang the doorbell of my sister’s place in Richmond and practically knocked her down when she opened the door. If there was any regret that our road trip had come to an end, it was quickly forgotten with the joyful family reunion. I spent the next two weeks spending quality time with my sister and her family and having a blast touring Colo and Lizzy around Vancouver. But that’s another story.

Though we didn’t stick to the planned route, I have no regrets. Life can be full of surprises when you are spontaneous. And though taking the plane is the fastest way to get to where you want to go, there is a richness in the journey of the open road that is absent from flying. But don’t take my word for it, make your own road trip memories. Who knows, I may just see you on the road. :)

Tunes that make me wanna hit the road:

Magic Carpet Ride – Steppenwolf
Runnin’ on Empty / Tender is the Night – Jackson Browne
Slowride – Foghat
Lowrider - War
Free Bird / Sweet Home Alabama – Lynyrd Skynyrd
Midnight Rider – Allman Brothers Band
Boys of Summer – Don Henley
Life is a Highway – Tom Cochrane
Born to Run – Bruce Springsteen
Take the Long Way Home – Supertramp
Summer of ’69 – Bryan Adams
Touch of Grey – Grateful Dead
Long Train Runnin’/ China Grove – The Doobie Brothers.
Midnight Train to Georgia – Glady’s Knight & the Pips
Pink Houses / Jack & Diane / Wild Night– John Mellencamp
Solsbury Hill – Peter Gabriel
Have You Ever Seen the Rain – CCR
Fool in the Rain – Led Zeppelin
Southern Cross – CSN
Baba O’ Riley – The Who
Fly Like an Eagle – Steve Miller Band
Werewolves of London – Warren Zevon
Here I go Again – Whitesnake
Little Green Bag – George Baker
In the Air tonight – Phil Collins
La Grange - ZZ Top
Ants Marching – Dave Matthews Band

Pike Place Market

Pacific Coast Highway : the road trip part 3

Back on the road, I noticed many cars towing speed boats or carrying canoes as well as an ever-increasing number of motor homes. On 101 you’re never too far from the ocean or one of the many state parks. As I pondered the idea of renting a motor home for my next road trip, Therese announced that she was hungry. And why wouldn't she be? It was 3:30 pm! Almost immediately, my tummy growled in agreement.

At the first sign of food, we stopped the car. While the rest of us stretched out the kinks in our joints, Therese scrounged under the seats searching for her left shoe. We tried to help her look for it, but nada. Watching her dismayed expression as she balanced on one foot, we all burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. Who loses a shoe on a road trip?! We figured it must have fallen out when she opened her car door while we gassed-up back in sungitville (we named it so after the less-than-friendly woman behind the counter). It was too far now to turn back, and fortunately Lizzy had an extra pair of sandals that fit. Somewhere out there now is a wistful man cradling a red 4” wedge platform looking for his Cinderella.

The Riverwood Inn, is a classic 1937 roadhouse, the type you see in those biker movies where Harleys are parked out front all in a line, almost possessively and menacingly, daring you to enter. It’s location along the Avenue of the Giants in Humboldt County makes it a popular stop for motorcycle clubs and tourists. It took a while for our eyes to adjust to the dim interiors and the floor creaked under us as we crossed the bar to the restaurant where we filled-up on fairly decent Mexican food alongside bikers and firefighters taking a much-needed break from battling the forest fires that were raging in nearby Mendocino county.

I suppose this wouldn’t be much of a road-trip without the requisite speeding ticket, now would it? As soon as the patrol car parked on the other side of the road pulled a u-turn towards us, she exclaimed, “Uh-oh, CHiPs!”. But she was the picture of calm as she handed over her California driver’s license. Later blaming her distraction on the giant golden bear statues back at the Klamath bridge, Colo admitted she had gone over the acceptable speed limit. Thankfully the cop, who was thumbing through the vehicular paperwork I handed to him, turned out to be very. He sent us off with clear and thorough instructions which included a list of options for dealing with the violation later, leaving no room for questions.

At the junction near Crescent City, we turned east for the shorter route via 199 then I5. We had another 300 miles to cover before arriving in Portland and if we wanted to make it there by midnight (Therese had to go back to work the next day), we had to forego the Oregon coast and save it for another time.

It was almost 9:00 when we crossed the state line into Oregon and the sleepy border town of O’Brien where we stopped for some gas. We had barely put the car in park and climbed out when we heard a booming voice, “Here I’ve come to save the day! How can I be your knight in shining armor, ladies?”. We turned to see a jolly-looking man wearing a cap that failed to conceal the laugh lines around his eyes which deepened with his smile, purposefully striding towards us. We were helplessly drawn to this charming man who was pumping gas for us in his self-service station. Welcome to Oregon.

It was my turn behind the wheel. Wispy clouds in twilight hues faded slowly into the darkness as drove along, thoughts of hot showers and warm beds filling our minds. It was a long day and I was getting sleepy. It didn’t help that Colo napped beside me, and it had grown quiet in the backseat. I wondered how truckers managed to drive their rigs and keep themselves awake on long, lonely roads. I gained a newfound respect for them.

We stopped for a quick bite in a KFC in Eugene before finally pulling into the driveway of a Victorian home in downtown Portland another two hours later. It was midnight and Therese’s charming 2-bedroom apartment was like an oasis for the weary traveler.

to be continued...

Also in this series:

Pacific Coast Highway : the road trip part 1

Pacific Coast Highway : the road trip part 2

Pacific Coast Highway : the road trip part 2

From this point, Highway 101 takes on a new nickname, the Redwood Highway. So named because it snakes the rest of way through northern California’s redwood empire and all the way up to Josephine County in Oregon. About 20 minutes west of the Redwood Highway is the Point Reyes Seashore where we hiked over the sand dunes and spread out some blankets for a light picnic lunch of cheeses, fruit, deli meats and bread from a quick stop at Trader Joe’s earlier.

We watched lazily and contentedly from our little spot on this long stretch of beach as a couple on horseback rode past us along the water’s edge while a couple of kids dug up holes in the sand and took turns burying each other.We must have been there for a couple of hours at the very least and it was late afternoon by the time we reached Marshall, a town famed for it’s oysters.

In fact, half the state’s shellfish growers source their supply from here. Colo, being a former SF resident and frequent customer at Tony’s Seafood Restaurant, proclaimed that they served the best oysters she’s ever had. Tony’s is a family-owned roadside seafood shack set on stilts above the waters of Tomales Bay, the very source of half their menu.

For this die-hard fan of raw oysters, these super plump grilled oysters topped with homemade BBQ sauce and some garlic was indeed a revelation! After exploring the market downtown for a bit, we retired for the night with a pay-per-view move at an inn in Petaluma.

It was now day 2 of our road trip and we had a long day ahead of us. Today’s final destination: Portland, Therese’s home and where she would be leaving the group to go back to work. The increasingly familiar voice of ‘Maggie’ directed us to 101 North and past hundreds of acres of ranch and farmland to our right dotted with grazing cattle and or corralled horses. We shared the road with tractors and milk trucks and the occasional flatbed. The left side of the road was lush with evergreens that perfumed the air around us. Overhead, the signs announced our approach to Healdsburg and informed us that we were another 17 miles from the next town of Cloverdale. Somewhere about here, I should have realized we were still on the scenic route but I was enjoying myself too much. Route 101's claim to highway fame is the spectacular scenery that is bestowed upon you at every turn.

We are about 2 hours into our road trip and the yakking in the car hasn’t lost steam. As a matter of fact, we never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Truck stops, fast-food joints, motels and petrol stations are familiar sights that turn into welcome pit-stops for us when we desperately need to answer a call of nature or to stretch our legs. It goes without saying that one of the best things about driving is that you’re free to stop whenever you please. Not just for a tinkle or a bite, but for all those amusing roadside discoveries. Somewhere before the big sign in which Willits proudly proclaims itself as the Gateway to the Redwoods, I spot a stand up ahead selling cherries and what looked like peaches. Freshly-picked fruits I can’t resist so I yell for Colo to stop so I can grab myself some.

It was in Leggett, CA, in the heart of the magnificent redwoods, that we came up-close and personal with these giant trees (some grow beyond 300 feet, making them the tallest – and oldest- living things on the planet!). We turned onto a dirt road and followed a trail lit by sunlight filtered through the trees. The forest floor on either side was covered in a wide variety of flora including three-foot tall sword fern bushes and horsetails. It was so beautiful we felt compelled to turn off the radio, and we were rewarded for doing so with the nature’s lovely music as performed by the songbirds above accompanied by the sounds from a nearby creek. This is why I don’t believe in wearing earphones when I travel. Ambient sounds and local music make up as much of the experience as do the sights and tastes. We emerged in a clearing where there in the middle was a 315 foot coast redwood with a 6 ft wide and 9 ft high hole carved out of it’s base. The Chandelier Tree is only one of four drive-thru redwoods in California that have become popular tourist destinations as evidenced by the souvenir shop, picnic tables and refreshment stands.

Not sure our massive SUV rental would make it without a scratch, we turned the side-view mirrors in before Colo eased the vehicle expertly through. This was actually more fun than I thought, a big part of the thrill being the fear and anticipation of hearing the sound of metal tearing. Now if that isn’t enough to lure you, maybe the rest of this little piece of paradise is. Our attention was drawn to the meadow with the duck pond at the center and apple trees forming a natural boundary. Colo and Katrina raced towards the pond then ran all the way around it chasing the wild geese while Lizzy and Therese sat on a log watching them. I walked around taking pictures, enjoying this peaceful interlude in our journey.

to be continued...

In this series:
Pacific Coast Highway: the road trip part 1

Pacific Coast Highway : the road trip

This is the unedited version of the article I wrote for Travelife about my road trip on the Pacific Coast Highway, from San Francisco, CA to Vancouver, BC Canada. I've been meaning to post about that trip so this is a good way to start, and an even better way to save me from having to write it all up again. :)

It’s late at night on a Friday, one of many typical Friday nights during the salad days of my HS and college life. I’m in the backseat of my friend’s Pathfinder pick-up which is cruising effortlessly through the dark and foggy, yet thankfully familiar, Tagaytay highway heading for the beach. The collective energy in the car is almost palpable: the windows are rolled all the way down, all thoughts of school and curfew have been cast away, Don Henley’s Boys of Summer is blasting from the tape deck, and we’re singing along with him at the top of our lungs while the cool breeze dances along in our hair.

Being on the road in a reliable set of wheels with good company and great tunes can put me in a fantastic mood. It didn’t always matter where we were going because getting there was already half the fun. So when it was decided that we would be driving to Vancouver, BC from San Francisco, I was over the moon! Not only would I finally be visiting my sister and her family again after twelve years, but I was finally going on a proper road trip! It must have been all those songs that played like soundtracks to road movies or those compelling books by Kerouac or Steinbeck that triggered my own longing to hit the road for my own adventure. There was no real agenda apart from arriving at the final destination. I wasn’t escaping anything nor was I trying to find myself. I was simply giving in once again to my wanderlusting, fun-loving and thrill-seeking nature, open to whatever the universe cared to toss my way.

The road trip gods had gifted us with the perfect sunny California summer day. Being the most experienced and confident driver of the group, Colo volunteered to take the wheel. I rode shotgun as navigator and Therese happily took the back seat. We would pick up Katrina and Lizzy in the city. The Chevy Trailblazer rental we picked up the night before was loaded with five women and five women’s worth of stuff with room to spare. Lizzy supplied the junk food and drinks and I supplied the tunes from my iPod with a playlist made especially for this occasion. My stack of printed Google maps had been discarded and stuffed under my seat, in favor of the infinitely more high-tech Magellan GPS which we named ‘Maggie’.

The plan was simple: we would drive up to Pt. Reyes, do an overnight in Petaluma, then continue on to Portland, OR, stay a couple of nights, then on to our final destination in Vancouver, BC, from where we’d take a plane back to San Francisco a week later. And as with most major decisions in life, we were faced with two options: take the longer, more rewarding scenic route via Highway 1 or the shorter but less picturesque Interstate 5. I suggested we take I5 all the way past CA/OR border, then veer west to drive the scenic route along the fabled Oregon Coast, to which everyone agreed.

But that wasn’t what happened. You see, Highway 1 which is also called the Pacific Coast Highway and Route 101 in certain parts, is the type of road driving was invented for. The type of road you see in movies or commercials where the handsome star in a red convertible has one bronzed arm draped across the shoulders of his blond leading lady with the over-sized sunglasses, while he tackles each hairpin turn skillfully with the other. It’s the type of road that makes you forget that you’re supposed to be about 50 miles east on I5. Yes, there is a reason it’s called 1.

It doesn’t matter how many times I do it, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge could never be a been-there-done-that experience for me. Whether shining brightly on a crisp and clear day with sailboats playing underneath or enshrouded in the famed San Francisco fog as it was on this day, it is certainly a thing of beauty which represents one of my most favorite cities in the world. Though the bridge isn’t very long at 1.7 miles, traversing it is like travelling to another country. One made up of sweeping rolling hills, redwood forests, rugged coastlines and craggy cliffs where you might half-expect a leprechaun to jump out at you from the side of the road. Except this isn’t Ireland it’s Marin County, and that was a wild deer, not a leprechaun.

to be continued...

Santorini Dreaming, my latest article on LA Travel

This is so exciting for me. Not just because this is my 4th travel piece that's been published (2nd in a row with Lifestyle Asia Travel, with another in the pipeline for the next issue) but more so because it's about a place I dreamed about since I was a little girl. Being in Santorini was such an extraordinary experience for me. Making it even more wonderful was the fact that I went with one of my closest friends who happens to also be one of the coolest people I know. So it was indeed a dream come true and being given the opportunity to share it was really special for me. :)

The article is published in the April/May or summer issue of Lifestyle Asia Travel along with other fab destinations such as Bordeaux, Palawan and Bohol. Oh and I was also asked to contribute some photos and tips for the Postcards section! :)

Ouefs en Cocotte or Eggs Baked in Ramekins

Oeufs en Cocotte. Such a fancy name for such a simple dish. I can't even begin to pronounce it, so when my family asked what I was making, I simply said "eggs baked in ramekins" as that it is precisely what they are. Ouefs is the French word for eggs, and Cocotte for ramekin.

I have a fondness for eggs, especially the small farm-fresh organic eggs delivered by our friendly organic farmer every other week. They're smaller, the yolks are bright orange, and they have a fresher and richer taste. Once you've had your first organic egg, you are spoiled for life.

My inspiration to make eggs baked in ramekins came about while reading Julie & Julia. While I am known to possess delusions of grandeur from time to time, I have no aspirations of trying some of what are, in my opinion, insanely tedious recipes found in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Having said that, there are many that are defintely doable and that I would love to try my hand at someday.

But this, well this was just so simple! And so perfect for a quick breakfast or brunch meal. I love me some weekend brunch! I decided to make three variatons. One ramekin for the classic recipe, another with sauteed mushrooms, and because I had some smoked wild Sockeye salmon ( a lovely gift from a friend in Vancouver), I made one with that too. They all turned out marvelously, and I couldn't pick a favorite! We all had a taste, mopping up the last of the remaining dregs with our bread and we couldn't get enough of it. I wish I had made more.

Classic Oeufs en Cocotte

1 egg
1 Tbsp cream
a knob of butter
salt & pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 C.

Grease your ramekin with some olive oil or butter. Carefully crack one egg into the ramekin. Top with a little cream, a knob of butter, then season with salt and pepper.

Place the ramekin/s in a baking or roasting tin and pour hot water around it until it comes halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Bake for about 8-10 minutes if , like me, you like it runny. About 2-3 minutes more if you prefer the eggs to set. Remember though that the egg continues to cook inside the ramekin even after you remove it from the oven.

Let is rest for a couple of minutes and serve with your favorite bread.

For the Oeufs en Cocotte with Salmon; I chopped up some smoked salmon, mixed it with chopped leeks, and placed it at the bottom of the ramekin then layered everything else on top.

And voila, that's it!

You may experiment and create your own variations. Just do some layering, placing the heavier ingredients like meats on the bottom and the herbs such as chives or leeks on top of the egg. I'd like to try it next time with bacon or ham, chorizo, and spinach.

The breadcrumb topping here looks like a fantastic idea, too!