I finally wrote up our Ashland trip, or most of it. (I have yet to write up the plays we saw.)

They are over at Sasha’s Doghouse:

http://sashasdoghouse.net/2010/07/11/ashland-june-11-2010/

http://sashasdoghouse.net/2010/07/11/ashland-june-12-2010/

http://sashasdoghouse.net/2010/07/11/ashland-june-13-2010/

http://sashasdoghouse.net/2010/07/11/ashland-june-14-2010/

Our last night in Ashland was dinner at Amuse.

It was heavenly.

We began with grilled asparagus and wood-smoked prawns. J. then had the pork chop, while I went for the pan-seared sturgeon. We finished with beignets.

Magnificent.

Another great night of sleep, and a lovely breakfast at the Inn.

Today we had orange-banana smoothies, followed by a melon cup with dried cranberries and sunflower seeds. The main course was a light salad of spring greens, toasted cheese bread and a souffle of asparagus, bacon and blue cheese. Quite tasty. We chatted with the innkeeper about restaurants and got into a cheerful debate about the plays we’d seen.

Then I scooted off to my spa pampering session across the street at the Blue Giraffe Day Spa. I began my day with a Kamani body wrap, which left my skin smooth smooth SMOOTH. Then upstairs for a manicure and pedicure, all of which was accompanied by massages. I feel quite pampered now, thank you.

I’m home for a few hours while J. sees another play (Well), and then its off to dinner at Amuse. We’ve been told its the best restaurant in Ashland, and we’re going to test that out.

We began with another lovely breakfast here at the Inn. Today it was a berry smoothies, followed by grilled pineapple with a vanilla creme, baked french toast with cranberry-orange sauce and pork sausage. Yum.

Then we headed across the street to the Blue Giraffe, site of our annual ‘couples massage’. This year we didn’t do a side by side (since I can’t lie on my tummy for any length of time, nor on my left side); instead J. had a full body (swedish) massage and I had a reflexology massage. It was heaven. And absolutely no surprise that the only ‘OUCH’ spot on my feet was linked to my ‘chest area’.

Sasha, btw, has destroyed her new crate. We didn’t like her usual, metal sided, crate because it is heavy and awkward to travel with, so I went and got a large canvas, folding one instead. We liked traveling with it, and she was fine in it on the first day. Last night she met us at the door, having ripped open the side. SIGH. So now when we leave the room we have to put her into the bathroom. She hates it, but we can’t trust her on her own.

This mostly means that the ‘alone time’ we had scheduled is now nonexistent. (Or nearly so.)

So, we headed back to the room to get her and then up to Pasta Piatti for lunch. They have tables outside, so we tied her to my chair and ordered a very nice lunch. We began with their calamari — always a favorite. They have a new salad, Caldo Balsamico — spinach with warm sauteed pears, toasted walnuts, carmelized baby onion, bacon, ricotta salata, and a balsamic vinaigrette.  Both were incredibly good, although the calamari (for once) was good, not great (it needed about 30 seconds more in the cooking, I think). The salad was perfect.

For our main, J. had the meatball sandwich and I tried the crab ravioli. The sandwich was very good, J. tells me, but the ravioli was only ok. Lots of things in the bowl, so the crab flavor really didn’t come through. Worse, when I just ate a ravioli, it still didn’t come through. The essence was there, but it was more like a cheese ravioli than I felt was acceptable. That’s surprising, because PP has been a favorite for years. Its still on our recommended list.

J. went to see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, while I went back to the room for a relaxing afternoon. He’s out getting dinner, and running Sasha at the dog park. Then he went to see Pride and Prejudice while I continued to relax. All in all, a lovely day.

We spent a quiet afternoon in our room, reading and relaxing. J. took Sasha to the dog park for a long run, and then we went out for an early dinner.

We went to Liquid Assets Wine Bar, a cozy, classy place with Spanish-influenced food and an excellent wine selection (you hoped I’d say that, didn’t you?) I started with the duck liver pate and a St. Innocent pinot noir, while J. had the ‘taste of spain’: Spanish chorizo, Iberico curado, Romano cheese, Marcona almonds, glazed onions, olives, and grilled bread. The pate was delightful — and very rich. I could only eat 1/2 of it. J. enjoyed his plate, except the olives. There were a lot of olives.

(sorry for not taking this when we started, I’m still new to the ‘taking pictures of your food so you can blog about the meal later’ thing.)

For our main meal, I had smoked chicken with truffle-oil mashed potatoes and broccolini. J. had braised pork should with new potatoes and broccolini. My chicken was very smoked, the texture was very firm, just on the edge of dryness but not going over, and the result was as if I was having smoked *pork*. It tasted great, but I’m not sure how much I liked it. The potatoes, however, were amazing and the broccolini was quite tasty. J’s pork shoulder was pretty fatty and while he didn’t dislike it, he tells me it was just ok. I drank a delightful VistAlba – ’06 Malbec/Merlot from Mendoza, Argentina. It was so good, that I bought a bottle to take home.

For dessert, because we were hoping for something that would really knock us out of the park, I had a white chocolate cheesecake w/ berry compote and J. settled on a Dagoba Lavender creme brulee. These were delicious. I like a thick, dense cheesecake, and that is what I got — very flavorful and the compote was minimal and didn’t hide or overwhelm the white chocolate flavor. J enjoyed his creme brulee — the first he’s ever had made of chocolate.

We walked home, walked the dog, fed her, and then walked back to see Hamlet.

Summarized review of Hamlet: Wow.

This is, hands down, the best adaption of one of Shakespeare’s most well-known plays I have ever seen. We enter the Bowmer theater to find the stage set for a funeral, complete with flag-covered casket on one end and two sections of chairs, one of which is occupied by a man in dark sunglasses and an elegant dark suit. As the theater fills, ushers enter the chapel and begin to take away the chairs, bowing to the man as they pass him. Finally the chapel is empty of all but the man,, his chair, and the casket. The candles are extinguished and he is alone with the corpse. He stands, walks to the casket and, visibly grieving, reaches out to touch it — and the lights go down.

That was the PROLOGUE.

The Old King Hamlet is played by Howie Seago, a deaf actor who communicates in ASL (American Sigh Language). In the scenes (young) Hamlet plays with him, they communicate in ASL, with Young Hamlet verbalizing much of what is being said. But not every line is repeated, and I found it enthralling and enchanting to realize how much I could ‘read’ even though I don’t know any ASL. As a viewer, I found the use of ASL a rich metaphor for the translation of self that occurs when a person dies, but does not leave earth (as it were). Throughout the play, when the actors referred to the dead king, they usually (always?) accompanied their verbal words with ASL, making a rich metaphor for the dead speaking a new (occult, in the sense of not well known) language.

Jeffrey King, a long time favorite of mine, plays the new King by marriage, Claudius. In this interpretation, Claudius is a bit of a blowhard. Larger than life, and full of bonhomie, he booms through scenes while glad handing and glossing over fissures in the firmament.

Horatio, one of the few survivors, is played by the ever-wonderful Armondo Duran. As a ‘supporting’ character, Horatio has a tough role . . .sometimes he is the audiences sane perspective, sometimes he is just Hamlet’s confidante. But throughout he must be strong and yet clearly a product of his time. Duran does it well, with an easy-going, loose-limbed physicality that nonetheless reveals the core of strength within.

Richard Elmore plays Polonius, the befuddled councilor, and Susannah Flood is Ophelia, his doomed daughter. One of the trickier parts to play, Ophelia has to give us — a very modern audience — a reason why she would love Hamlet, go mad, and kill herself. Flood does a wonderful job, infusing her early scenes with humor and intelligence, giving us a glimpse into the strong partner for Hamlet she could be . . . Her middle scenes have an underlying sense of yearning passion that hint at the desperate desire she feels for a man who seems to be spurning her, where once he sought her kisses. Their final scene together takes place in a chapel and it evokes a strong sense of desire and betrayal so well that when Hamlet utters the fateful words “get thee to a nunnery” we can almost hear, as well as see, Ophelia’s spirit (and mind) break.

Dan Donohue’s Hamlet is a brilliant modern creation. He loved/loves his father very much, and can’t quite believe his mother remarried so soon. We have the sense that he’d get over it, except that his father tells him he was poisoned by his uncle, and it is up to him to find revenge. He retreats into madness, looking for an opportunity to prove the ghosts’ case and all around him the people try to cope with politics and guilt and lust.

This is not a sexual Hamlet, there is no sense of incest here. He kisses Ophelia with passion that reveals their mutual lust, and it gives the audience a sense of necking and teenage explorations, all fumbling and haste and frustration. But Donohue himself reveals only a bare leg to the knee, even though his suit is in tatters. His friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are women, who he ‘has loved well.’ But they are clearly lesbians and we wonder if his loving was a menage, or something more cerebral.

Donohue is a brilliant actor, flawless and genuine. His presence on the stage is magnetic, and he is a pleasure to watch as he strides, squats, sprawls and grasps. Each movement mirrors his inner and outer words, making his performance seamless and strong.

We drove in a straight shot yesterday, leaving around noon and ending up in our room by 7:30 — which is incredibly good time for stopping three times for food, gas, and/or liquids.  (Sasha, of course, went for a walk at each stop.)

I’d made a torta from our leftovers, and it made a nummy meal. (That’s another post.)

The Ashland Creek Inn is simply lovely. We’re in the Sienna room — a high-ceilinged suite with tall doors opening onto a deck overlooking the river, with another set of doors opening onto the street (which would make for a delightful breeze in the summer). There is a 2-person bathtub, TV & DVD player, and a gas fireplace behind a sweet set of cast iron doors. The bed is king-sized and has a reasonable amount of pillows on it, with a good mattress. The room gets a lot of natural light.

Pictures:

The downside is the light (for those of us who are crepuscular) and that the tub is not in an enclosed room — so you don’t get the steamy effect of a good hot bath. It’s also difficult to eat inside, there are only a couple of ‘tray’ tables.

Breakfast is included, but they don’t start serving until 9am. We were up at 6am, so after J. took Sasha for a walk, he went out to get a couple of muffins from The Ashland Bakery & Cafe — a longtime favorite. SADNESS! The ABC has closed down, replaced by a pizza place. Not wanting to return empty-handed, J. went to Mix, which specializes in desserts, but has a nice selection of pastries.

Ugh. My cheese danish was mealy, the pastry ok but (of all things) over-buttery (as in: greasy). The mini lemon poundcake was overly sweet in a weird kind of way and also greasy. J. had a chocolate croissant, but put it down after a single bite. His comment? “Thoroughly disappointing.”

Thank goodness for breakfast. Today it was a ‘tropical’ smoothie, fruit cup (grapes, apples, pears, mandarin orange sections, and pineapple) spinach-egg cup (layers of spinach, scrambled egg, and cheese — Gruyere? — in a custard cup, baked with a bit of breadcrumbs toasted on top). Accompanied by strong (very!) coffee, a chicken-apple sausage, an English muffin and marionberry preserves to slather on top, this was a well-presented and very tasty way to start the day. I also appreciated the innkeepers and chef stopping to talk with everyone.

We took Sasha with us and ran an errand, parking in downtown around 10:30am. We walked the eponymous main street and looked to see what was new, and what hadn’t changed. I bought myself two hats (separate post) and we enjoyed our window shopping.

(As a side note, Sasha grins, almost all of the time, and its amusing to see how nearly everyone smiles back at her as we walk along.)

Lunch was take out from Sesame. I had tempura-battered cod with sweet potato fries and coleslaw; J. had cashew chicken and rice. We shared an order of coconut calamari. Very good, quite tasty. Recommended and we will eat here again.

Tonight: Dinner at The Wine Bar, with the premiere of Hamlet  to follow.

It’s been an interesting trip so far.

Our Wed flight was easy-peasy and my sister met us right outside the security area. We were checked in and unpacking by 9:30. We’re staying at the Parc 55, which opened in March of this year. I suspect it must be a refurb hotel,and not a new-built,but that’s because a number of small items are worn,far more so than I would expect in 9mos. For example, the ‘green cards’ letting us know that we can arrange to not have our sheets and towels washed every day are all frayed around the edges. Like they are recycled from another hotel. I don’t mind this at all,I’m in favor of it, in fact. (Less landfill!!!)

J.was hungry, so we went down to their in-house restaurant, Cityhouse, and had a look at the menu.Nice selection, and not overwhelmingly over-priced.J.had an apparently scrumptious trio of BBQ pork sliders, we  shared an appetizer of absolutely delicious calamari, and I had a (fairly bland but beautifully presented) lobster ‘cocktail. I also had a nice,but not memorable pinot grigio from Luna Vineyards (2007). Sadly, our room (#765) was overlooking the street, and SIGNIFICANTLY noisy. Despite a sleeping aid, and wine, I could not fall asleep. At 1:30am, we switched rooms . . . to 1611.

I slept until 7:30, which is tolerable. I would have slept more, but our room was right next to the elevator, so there was a lot of hall traffic. A note about this room, and all of the Floor#11 rooms I believe — it is ‘handicapped accessible.’ But I have to say that although that may technically be correct, if I were in a WC I would be very unhappy with the accomodations. The bathroom had room for a WC, but there was a tub, so an assist would be needed to shower/bathe. There were two over-sized ‘club chairs’ as  well as a chair for the desk, leaving very little room to actually move around the room. And I’m not in a WC. Not impressive.

Because of the proximity to the elevator, we moved yet again, this time to the 24th floor. Although the agent on duty told us this was an upgrade, I think that is only because of the view — which is quite lovely (pics to be shared later). Otherwise it is exactly the same as the one on the 7th floor. We slept well last night, however. (Note: I’ve been having trouble sleeping, even with Lunesta for almost a week now. It’s becoming quite troublesome.)

Yesterday we took the 5 Fulton and had brunch with my mother, then picked up cracked crab at Andronico’s and drove out to my sister’s. We baked cookies with my nephew and had a lovely meal of pasta, cracked crab, fresh sourdough, salad, and sauteed broccolini. A nice prosecco rounded out the meal. Today J and I woke up at 6:30am and drove to my sister’s, stollen in hand. We arrived with plenty of presents left to open and had a lovely time. My nephew is really starting to ‘get’ the point of the day, and he even stops to watch as others open gifts. The stollen was perfect, the coffee strong, and everyone had a great time.

At the moment I’m back in our room, listening to J. sleep. We’ll be heading back to my sister’s in a couple of hours for a few more gifts and dinner all together. Although I am very tired, I’m happy to be here and seeing everyone. And eating.

Travel plans, to be specific.

Up in the air: Christmas 2009 in San Francisco, even though my Dad is flying out there as well. I hope to have that worked out this week.

June 10-13th, 2010: Ashland, OR. The OSF will see us there with several friends, watching Hamlet and the Merchant of Venice (among other plays) and staying in a lovely house.

and . . . here’s the big one . . .

October 2nd through 16th: London/Venice. Yes, we bit the bullet and polished off the credit card and purchased tickets. Hotel reservations are being made, and plans laid. We WILL take our annual trip out of the country in 2010. I may be bald, but we WILL go. (That’s what charming hats are for, aren’t they?)

I just came back from a weekend with my family in San Francisco. I flew down to heavy fog, and left in 70* sunshine.

That is the city of my youth in a nutshell: a dichotomy of dynamic tension.

I went down to help my mom with some tasks that needed doing, but would have left her in a lot of physical pain from her disability. It took most of two days to get it done, and I brought a number of things home with me to finish up, but she’s in a much better place than when I arrived.

But lest you think this was a weekend of drudge – fear not! I had a great time visiting with her and with my sister’s family.

In my mom’s backyard the remnants of a palm tree she took down usually looms with a sad, sort of stressed out look. (Seriously — a few years ago she took a machete to it and goes out every once in a while to hack off any upstart reappearances of life.) A neighbor covered it with one of those holiday ‘angels’ made of woven willow and it now presents a more artistic shape to the world.

I found it seriously funky — and fascinating.

My sister’s yard is blooming beautifully, the roses are obviously very happy, and she’s got a nice collection of herbs (sage, thyme, rosemary, mint, etc.) going in the back area. Of course, I covet her lemon tree. But then again, she misses her Buddleia and covets my lilac tree in return.We spent a nice afternoon out there, enjoying the sunshine and watching the McSherry Heir play.

On Saturday we (minus mom) went to a strange place called FairyLand over by Lake Merced. This is a strange, STRANGE, place, but sweet in a funky kind of way. The concept is that children’s fairy tales are turned into a play area. So we have things like this:

(note the mad gleam in his eye . . .) or this:

Then again, I really liked the Alice in Wonderland ‘down the rabbit hole’ installation:

particularly the paintings on the walls:

All in all, it was a lovely time. Weird, but lovely.

As promised:

posted at the ‘family blog’: pitchwife.net/