Nourish

On a Clear Day You Can See Forever- Dad's View

A few weekends ago I made a solo trip to the Bay Area, seeking solitude, solace, and sea breezes.  My dad died a year and a half ago and is buried in a beautiful location: on the ridge of the Santa Cruz Mountains, overlooking the pumpkin patches of Half Moon Bay and out to the Pacific Ocean.  A few times a year I go out to visit with him, to cry, to laugh, to share the newest stories about our family.  I bring a latte and a raspberry scone (his favorite) up to the spot, sit on the ground beside him, and just start talking.  On this trip the weather was cold and foggy up along the ridge, obscuring the view to the ocean.  I didn't mind- I was feeling sad and lonely for him and the weather reflected my state of mind.

Clam Chowder, Anchor Steam Beer, Crab Cake Balls
Sam's Chowder House in Half Moon Bay, CA

By the time my cheeks were raw from tears and salty sea air I was chilled to the bone and knew it was time to head down the hill to find some food.  Over the last few months I've been on a fairly restrictive diet in order to shed some pounds, but I made a decision that this weekend would not be about restriction and structure.  I was there to nourish all parts of myself: body, soul, and creative spirit.  I decided to try a new place for lunch (our family favorite, Barb's Fish Trap, had over an hour wait).  I braved the waterfront patio of Sam's Chowder House, positioning myself under an umbrella and a heat lamp, and promptly ordered an appetizer, a huge bowl of their namesake chowder and a draft pull of my favorite San Francisco beer.  Oh heavens.  The chowder was unbelievably delicious- Sam's doesn't use any flour to thicken their broth and it's filled with chunks of fresh clams, potatoes, leeks, carrots, bacon, and is served piping hot.  I finished the meal with my own pot of hot tea, looking out over the grey choppy water and filling my trusty Moleskine journal with new character ideas.



One of the many treasures inside Harley Farm's heavenly
cheese shop: goat cheese in their herb-infused olive oil

Feeling fully revived and ready to move onto the next location, I packed up my things and headed down the coast about twenty miles to one of my favorite places: Pescadero, a funky little seaside town that is home to the world's best goat cheese.  Harley Farms is a working goat dairy on the outskirts of town and has some of the best goat cheese I've ever tasted (and I have a serious weakness for chevre).  In fact, the background picture for this blog was taken during one of my many trips to Harley Farms over the years and shows the inside of their amazing cheese shop.  Not only can you pet baby goats and take a tour of the farm to see how they make the cheese, but you can also sample all of their products.  My personal favorite?   The plain goat cheese log topped with lavender from their edible flower garden and filled with a bar of local honey.  Yes, it's really that amazing. 

As I pulled into the dirt parking spot along the country road, the sun decided to peek out from behind the clouds and the air instantly warmed up.  I meandered around the farm, unusually quiet for a Friday, and spent about a half an hour walking through the cheese shop picking out my purchases.  Ultimately I decided on a new coffee mug, rustic white glaze with their dancing goat imprint, and a bottle of their lavender goat milk body lotion.  As much as I love their cheese, I just couldn't imagine eating a whole log of it by myself after my filling lunch at Sam's (well I could, but I tried to reign myself in a bit).  That evening, driving back up the coast and over the hill to my hotel, my eyes continually filled with tears as I recalled all of my trips to Pescadero with my dad.  Of our drives, talks, coffee runs, and impromptu beachside picnics.  Somehow being out there, retracing our old routes, doing things we used to do together, calms me and keeps him alive in my heart.  I know that the next time I'm feeling disconnected from my roots, homesick for the ocean, and have a craving for a nourishing bowl of Sam's clam chowder, I only need book a flight.  My dad and the twenty-nine years of memories we shared together will be waiting for me.