Favorite First Line.... EVER

“Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream."

 

Cannery Row (1945)
John Steinbeck

Ancient Egypt and the Little Girl

Sitting in the tranquil dimness of my room, listening to the abrupt cicadas and breathing in the soft end-of-summer air, I find myself thinking of my childhood in California. I so often long to return there, but is it a longing for California itself or for the nostalgia of childhood? I think of Monterey Bay’s black lava-like rocks and bobbing otters, the aquarium's colossal, plate-glass room, opening like a giant foyer to the sea’s own mysterious mansion of living rock and giant kelp colonnades; the fog fading into the morning warmth in the old streets and quaint houses at Carmel; Junipero Serra’s sunset-colored missions surrounded by flowering bushes shaking in the breeze; the fantastical double-decker carousel at the Great America amusement park in my hometown, San Jose; the warm, cerulean water at the vibrant beaches where seals bellow to each other and cover the rocks and piers like fat, whiskered sunbathers.


And I think of the Museum.


When I was child, I wanted to be either an archaeologist or a paleontologist. I lost interest in paleontology when I realized that you spend most of your time digging very very slowly, not popping already-assembled Tyrannosaur skeletons from the ground every other day. But my interest in archaeology stayed strong despite my phobic terror of mummies. Mummies be darned, I love Ancient Egypt. I don’t remember when my infatuation started, except that I have a vivid memory of being about seven years old and standing in the Rosicrucian Museum in town and gawking in awe at a section of painted tomb wall from a pyramid’s interior. Sheltered from the fading effects of light for thousands of years, the paints had retained the vivid deep blues in the midnight skies and the rich golds and scarlets on the figures and accents. Looking back, I now realize that they were probably replicas, but the effect on me was the same: I suddenly understood that ancient artists didn’t actually paint in faded colors - their art was as colorful as many of the paintings we create today. How much, I wondered, of ancient life itself was like this - archaic and outdated today, but vibrant and real in its own time? In fact (I thought to myself with a dawning amazement) the people of the ancient world didn’t think of themselves as ancient, but as modern. I wondered what museums they visited when they were alive, and if they were busy swatting flies on hot days just like me.

For a long time after that visit, I dreamed at night of sneaking back there, past the museum’s alarm system and back into that room of sapphires, golds, and burnt umber. Who knew what really happened when everyone turned off the 20th-century light bulbs and left that room alone with just the darkness and cricket songs?

New Orleans in California

I have never visited Louisiana. But the thought conjures up images of fog-shrouded bayous, flickering fireflies, banjo and saxophone music, and cuisine with marvelously delectable flavors. Add palm trees, hot California breezes, and a hint of the piratical, you've got Ralph Brennan's Jazz Kitchen in Downtown Disney. Yep, there are even foggy bayous of a sort, but I'll get to that later.

While visiting kin in Southern California this past autumn, my mom and I enjoyed a sunny afternoon exploring Downtown Disney. As if afternoons in CA could be anything but sunny. After searching Downtown Disney's website for spots to grab a gluten-free lunch, I found Ralph Brennan's:

In the mood for New Orleans cooking? Is that even a question?

Open-air foyer. Love the red walls,
wrought iron chairs, and zany fountain.

Lunch included iced tea, a gluten-free* jambalaya with fresh-tasting shrimp, and salad with balsamic dressing and candied almonds. I also ordered a Bayou Breeze, a drink especially recommended by the chef as gluten-free. A perfect example of classic Southern hospitality. Or is it typical California good vibrations?

The Bayou Breeze

I got a kick out of the drink's presentation, thanks to the emerald-hued Midori at the bottom and the pirate sabre roguishly spearing the maraschino cherry. Cruzan coconut rum, Midori liqueur, orange juice, and cranberry juice comprised the drink, which the waitress recommended stirring together before quaffing. Unless I wanted a full blast of Midori liqueur. Naw.

Crocodile mirror

Oh great, I'm photographing restrooms now. So I've become a total tourist, and loving it. So, here's the foggy bayou. Isn't that a spectacular mirror, despite the mosquito in the corner of the mural? I'd say it was a great specimen of Bayou Bling.

Anyway, I loved eating at Ralph Brennan's: New Orleans cuisine and atmosphere without the humidity and with all the charm. Fabuleux.

* In creating a gluten-free version of their Pasta Jambalaya, Ralph Brennan's simply substituted rice for the pasta. The restaurant has a gluten free menu available upon arrival, though not online at this time.