Californication Part 2: The A Muse Bouche Guide to PCH Road Trippin’

From LA we headed to Big Sur. I’d never been to Big Sur before and Justin had only been once briefly. At first I loved the ride along PCH (apparently true Californians drop the “the” – Thank you Jacki). We could literally smell the salt water as we drove beside the ocean. We stopped in Malibu for breakfast and Santa Barbara for lunch. I absolutely love the Four Seasons Biltmore in Santa Barbara. I haven’t stayed there yet but just from popping by I know it has the best ambiance. I was there last with my best friend Rachel – we went at night for a drink at the hotel’s Ty Lounge and the setting was absolutely lovely. During the day the place is even lovelier. The resort’s restaurants overlook the ocean. Justin and I opted to picnic across the street from the hotel, at the beach. It was the perfect pit stop.

Then we hit the road again. And it wasn’t so lovely. Don’t get me wrong – it was beautiful. But it was SCARY. Yes, I’m a wuss. I’m afraid of heights. And I’m certainly afraid of curvy roads without guardrails snaking along the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Justin – my perfect complement – was the epitome of calm. He loves driving, and he’s not a wuss. He convinced me to muster up the courage to – A: Look at the gorgeous views, and B: Take pictures. I tried to capture the precariousness of the road, but the photos don’t do the dicey situation justice. Nor are the pics of the views truly representative. But they’re pretty special. See below.

We had a reservation at Post Ranch Inn. Post Ranch Inn seemed over-the-top when we initially researched it. But Justin insisted on staying there and I consented. (It turns out his original proposal plan was en route to Big Sur, hence the exceptional hotel pick.) Post Ranch was the perfect combination of rustic setting and luxurious accommodations. Upon arrival we were greeted with glasses of red wine before being driven to our cabin in Lexus hybrids. Our cabin was decked out with a fireplace and back patio with Adirondack chairs overlooking a dense Redwood forest. The kitchenette was stocked with more wine and an assortment of beverages, homemade chocolate chip cookies, cheese & crackers and more – all at no extra charge. It really was a full-service place; when we went hiking the next day we borrowed backpacks and water bottles, and the staff made sure we had plenty of sunscreen. But back to day one: We arrived just before dinner and right on time to see a spectacular sunset. We dined at the resort’s restaurant Sierra Mar. The restaurant has floor to ceiling windows and is literally suspended from the cliffs, hanging above the water. The views are ridiculous. I agree with the hostess who said there’s no bad table in the room. And the food isn’t bad either. We had a tasting menu including scallops prepared in four different sauces. After eating we went outside to stargaze. I’ve never seen a sky so dense with stars. And the hotel even has an on-site stargazing expert; equipped with the largest telescope I’ve ever seen. Not only did the expert point out star constellations, he showed us Mars and Saturn. Mars looked like a ball of fire and we could actually see the rings of Saturn. It was wild.

Post Ranch Sunset

The next day we went for a hike on the Post Ranch Inn property (the resort grounds encompass over 100 acres) and unwound in an infinity-edge Jacuzzi overlooking the Pacific before braving the road again and going to Napa.

A

Californication Part 1: The A Muse Bouche Guide to LA

I just returned from my happy place. Of course it’s not really a “place” but rather a state of mind. But it just so happens I can much more easily access my contented state when I’m in The Golden State. Justin and I visited Santa Monica, Big Sur and Napa – with stops along the way in Malibu, Santa Barbara and Carmel. It was an accidental engagement-moon. “Engagemoon?”

I tried to be in-the-moment every step of the way. Justin too felt “unplugged” – especially at times when we were literally with no cell service. But first up on the itinerary, a destination with full-service: Oceana Beach Club Hotel. After some last minute deliberation because I really did procrastinate on picking an LA hotel, I chose the Oceana in Santa Monica. Friends and family had contributed lots of helpful suggestions including Shutters on the Beach (too pricey) and the Viceroy (too cool) and I was set on picking a place with that good hotel bedding, a relaxing pool setting and in-house bicycles.

The Oceana was 3 for 3 regarding my criteria, plus an added bonus: a room upgrade. When we arrived we were told we’d been upgraded from the original room I'd booked (at their least expensive rate) to a Signature Ocean View Suite, obviously overlooking the ocean. It had a balcony to boot. Needless to say it was much larger than our one-bedroom NYC apartment. And the suite even felt homey, with books strewn about and plants placed here and there. I credit Karma for the upgrade(s). (Also upgraded: our rental car. Hertz was out of regular sedans with sunroofs, so they granted us a Mustang convertible.)

room with a view

on-site bikes compliments of oceana 

On night one in LA we went to Abbot Kinney for dinner and ice cream, at Gjelina and Nice Cream respectively. Gjelina has a great reputation, which is well deserved especially in the pizza department. The Pomodoro Crudo pizza we ordered was absolutely delicious. We also ordered the Arugula, Shaved Sweet Corn, Cherry Tomato, Pecorino & Lemon salad and Grilled Radicchio with Balsamic & Sea Salt. In general I think the food out in Cali is fresher than here in The Big Apple. Nice Cream had a not-so-nice ambiance; it was rather sterile. But the gelato was delectable. I highly recommend the chocolate hazelnut, in a waffle cone.

Day 2:

We biked to Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf and along the beach for a bit. Then we went to the Huckleberry Cafe for brunch. (Thank you for the recommendation Megan!) We missed the breakfast menu, which ended at 11, so we ordered not one but two fried egg sandwiches (with bacon and Gruyere cheese), and sides of farro salad and string beans. And a chocolate chip cookie. And a glazed donut. Gluttonous? Clearly. Regretful? Just a little.

Obviously we were able to take the desserts to go. But the droopy fried egg sandys that we didn’t finish? The waiter at Huckleberry was absolutely shocked we were leaving behind leftovers. And this tended to be the reaction from servers everywhere in Cali whenever we over-ordered and under-ate. (My man has the tendency to have eyes bigger than his little tummy.) I really do appreciate the California mentality about wastefulness – I’m ashamed whenever we over-order here in NY, and I often hoard leftovers in the fridge, hoping we’ll eat them at some point. But alas, we usually don’t. So from here on out I’m resolving to be more Californian in my consumption habits.

ANYWAY after carbo-loading we went to Topanga State Park and ascended the Temescal Ridge Trailhead to “Skull Rock.” It was rigorous (and HOT) but with rewarding views including the unique sight of (surprise surprise) a rock resembling a skull.

fried egg sandwich at huckleberry cafe

“skull rock”

Post hike we hung by the hotel pool and ate guacamole & chips and drank Cupcake Prosecco compliments of our hotel staff. (Upon checking in Justin had mentioned our engagement, and the staff sent the bottle with a lovely note.) And I can proudly report that there were no leftovers of either food or drink. In the evening we went to Venice Beach for drinks at Hotel Erwin’s rooftop lounge overlooking the ocean. It was an awesome spot to see the sunset, and the vibe at the bar was very East Village. Then we returned to Abbot Kinney (which we liken to Smith Street in Brooklyn Heights) for dinner at the highly recommended restaurant The Tasting Kitchen. The food was excellent, including a standout condiment: balsamic aged longer than me: 32 years. My only negative review is of the dessert. We had the bread pudding, which was eh. Next time we’ll revisit Nice Cream.

A 

P.S. Californication - 

A certain ‘je ne sais quoi’

As much as I appreciate the awesome graphic design skills of my Photo Editor (Justin), it’s time to say ‘au revoir’ to the lips.

My updated blog template is a much better representation of ‘a muse bouche,’ and it’s much more ‘me.’ I hope you enjoy the new look, crafted by Fabulous K and envisioned by moi.

And I’m taking even more tech savvy strides. I’ll be tweeting in the days to come. You can follow me at @amy_rosenthal. And of course you can continue to track me on Pinterest. (I’m obsessed! Especially now that I can admittedly stalk wedding boards…)

Enjoy!

A

The Ballad of Jay-B and Fiancé Knowles

It’s been a whirlwind couple of weeks. After four days in Montauk and one day back at work, Justin and I set out on a bike ride along the Hudson River last Sunday evening. The plan was to go for a spin, hang out for a bit in one of the parks by the water, and then ride to din. We posted up on a grassy area and read and talked for a bit. Then we decided to get up and reposition ourselves to better see the sunset. (We’re really into sunsets these days.) I stood, but Justin didn’t… Instead he kneeled on one knee… and POPPED THE QUESTION!!! I was stunned. My heart started pounding and time seemed to stand still. (So cheesy I know but true.) I said “Oh My God” about 20 thousand times and then asked Justin to repeat his proposal. Again I replied “Oh My God.” “Is that a yes?” he asked. And of course I said, “YES.” And then he asked should we go to our party? Again I was shocked. He had arranged for a big family dinner (our parents and siblings, our nephew and niece and my grandpa all included). It was the perfect combo of an intimate private proposal and a larger-scale family celebration. I’m so excited to officially be family with my man.

A

P.S. Here’s a picture of us right after the proposal - 

P.P.S. Re: the title of this post – Justin has taken to calling me his Fiancé Knowles. And it just so happens that Justin’s fam calls him JB. (His middle name is Blake.)

I Want To Ride My Bicycle

Quite hypocritically, since this post I’ve worked 9 – going on 10 – days without taking a break. The upside is that I’ll be able to go Montauk for July Fourth (and fifth and sixth and seventh). So I’m sort of practicing what I preach. I’ve also been embracing some of the more relaxing elements of NYC – like bike riding along the Hudson River.

Justin got me a bicycle for my b-day back in February. He had been humming “Bicycle Race” by Queen for days prior, but I hadn't picked up on the hint. Justin believes having a bike is a prerequisite for being a true West Villager. And really he just knows how much I love bike riding (despite being a bit scared to ride on busy city streets) (similar to how I love the beach but am scared of big waves). Anyway it was an AWESOME gift, but it was too big. We ended up getting two Biria bikes instead: his and hers, black and cream. And I souped up mine with a big basket. (I try to be a Yogi about it and travel light, but usually I fail.)

We’ve gone on some lovely voyages – to dinner at Hudson Clearwater (delicious food and wonderful ambiance) and to the Hudson River bike path on various occasions, including a sunset spin. And recently we biked halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge – it’s not an easy ride! Especially on a sweltering hot day – before returning to the Village for ice cream from this fancy ice cream truck.

I love NYC but oftentimes I miss nature. I need to break out of the concrete jungle. And it makes sense. Dr. Andrew Weil says “Insufficient contact with nature predisposes us to depression.” He advises in his book Spontaneous Happiness to “Find ways to connect with nature. Take advantage of city parks. Bring natural beauty into your living space.” I’m looking forward to finally taking a few days off and escaping to The Hamptons. And when I’m back in The City I’ll keep taking bike rides by the water. Doctor’s orders.

A

Simone the Psychic at Sant Ambroeus

On Saturday night I went out with my best friend Jessi and my boyfriend Justin to grab a late bite and drinks at Sant Ambroeus in the West Village. We ate al fresco on the sidewalk and took in the scenery, which consisted mostly of drunk passers-by. We noticed a large drag queen reading peoples’ palms at a table nearby. He/She was peering into diners’ palms and speaking quickly and in a hushed voice. We were a bit wine-buzzed ourselves and we were feeling open-minded, so we welcomed The Palm Reader when she shimmied over to our table. She laid it out for us: “I won’t charge you but I do take tips. My name’s Simone.” Off the bat this was an auspicious situation, the name Simone also belonging to Justin’s beautiful new niece.

Simone turned first to Jessi. She thrust a small black flashlight at Jessi’s life-line (it’s long) and started spitting out rapid-fire psychic observations:            

Simone said Jessi in an over-achiever and a perfectionist. (True) Jessi is stressed at work. (True) Jessi is too picky. (True) Simone told Jessi to go out dancing that night, to let her hair down and to flirt with not one but two guys and to get their phone numbers. And Simone told Jessi to stop going for her same “type.” (True!) How did Simone know Jessi planned to go out on the town after our meal? (Jessi had plans to meet another girlfriend at a club; Justin and I had plans to meet our friend Bill Maher in our living room.)                                                                                                      

Next up for psychic observation: Me

Simone said I’m too focused on my family. (True?) She said I’m stuck between being a homebody and wanting to go on wild adventures. (True) She said I should take a vacation. (True) (And ironic considering my most recent post on… taking vacations.) And Simone said I procrastinate. (Guilty)

And then Justin:

Simone said Justin is entrepreneurial. (True) And then Simone said that Justin needs to tie the knot with his significant other soon. (Hmm) And she said he had recently made a big purchase. (True??? Justin won’t tell…)

Jessi and I were sold! We forked over some cash and asked where we could find Simone – did she have a card? No she said. But she “works the block” (By West 4^th & Perry) and she’s often at The Stonewall Inn and the Cubby Hole.

On Monday I asked Jessi if she ended up flirting with 2 guys on Saturday night and getting their numbers. Did she venture outside of her type? No, she said, she’s too picky :)

A

P.S. Sant Ambroeus is delicious! The appetizers are pricey but the main courses are on par with NYC pricing. We had the Tagliatelle Saltate Alla Bolognese and Penne Al Pomodoro E Basilico.

We’re the weird ones.

I’m a big fan of Bill Maher, and I’m a big fan of taking vacations. So when Maher spoke about the ridiculousness of the American attitude towards time off in his New Rules soliloquy this past Friday, I perked up. And please keep in mind that the below quote was meant by Maher as a joke. But his message is sincere. 

• "New Rule: American workers must get at least as much paid vacation as the Chinese slaves who make their iPhones.”

Allow me to paraphrase Maher’s explanation: 138 nations mandate vacation time by law. The United States is not one of them. The French take a minimum of 30 paid vacation days. The English get 28 paid days off. The Swiss get 20. Our government requires 0.

And when some Americans do travel they think it’s weird when Europeans dip out for a siesta after lunch. What these Americans don’t realize is that we’re the weird ones. The Europeans have the right idea.

Of course a majority of Americans don't even take all of the few vacation days they get. They’re too scared to seem less valuable to their bosses, especially because we live in the only “big boy country” (Maher’s phraseology) where losing your job means also losing your healthcare.

And Maher concludes: “And then you won't be able to get the Prozac that helps you forget how depressed you are about having no free time.”

Maher makes the valid (and to me, quite obvious) point that Americans have an overall skewed view when it comes to vacation time. And after all, we are a nation founded on Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness. It really is ironic that such a lazy culture frowns upon taking time off from work. It’s commonsense to me that workers need downtime to unwind and refresh, in order to ultimately be more productive in the workplace. (And in their personal lives.) Somehow our nation (and especially NYC) has demonized the idea of taking days off from the daily grind. Prior to my current career in yoga I had one coworker who proudly pronounced she had missed a family member’s wedding for a work event. She had made the comment in an attempt to gain respect. Instead I felt bad for her. Many of my friends are terrified to even request the days off that they technically have. And in many cases HR may indicate two weeks, but what employers really expect is less than five days. And five days or even two weeks vacation time max allowed during a whole year? That’s an INSANELY small allowance of personal time. And for so many Americans it’s not spent in the sun or the sand or even on the couch. It’s spent going to the doctor, taking care of kids, doing tedious errands, etc. God forbid we hard-working Americans take extended periods of time to just play.

And it’s not just American adults who are downtime-deprived. I’ve heard horror stories from babysitters who say they’ve told kids to go outside and play, and the kids ask, “What should we do?” Many kids these days are directionless without their Wii’s or iPads or whatever. Our current culture doesn’t necessarily foster imagination. Tots are so used to coexisting with technology or being carted from one organized activity to another – so many of them can’t just go outside and play.

But back to the older set: Everybody’s literally working for the weekend. “Work hard/play hard” is the saying. Spend Monday through Friday hunched over a keyboard only to be able to enjoy binge drinking on both Friday and Saturday nights. And then repeat. And repeat. Forever. Instead let’s aim for a more (to some, weird) European lifestyle. Have a glass of wine with lunch. Take a siesta in the afternoon. Take all of August off. And – somehow! – still get your sh*t done. It boils down to priorities. My priorities are to do work that is meaningful and of service, and to have good old-fashioned fun – to eat meals with my friends and family, to get besos and high-fives from my nephew, to linger over half-cafs at Starbucks with my dad, to go biking along the Hudson with my boyfriend, to go on adventures in truly beautiful places like Napa and Peru… to really pursue happiness.  

A 

P.S. Martha Beck speaks to the importance of engaging in ‘deep play’ in her book Finding Your Way in a Wild New World. Read an insightful interview here. Good stuff. 

images via pinterest