What’s your favorite part of traveling? Mine, hands down, is food. I enjoy trying new restaurants … the ones the locals consider good. I look for three things as indicators that it might be a good place to eat:
- A different kind of cuisine than I can get in my hometown.
- A line at the door.
- Delicious smells emanating from the establishment.
Even though there was a line of people at “Au bon pain” at the airport, it did not attract me. My husband says the name means something in French … I don’t know, and I don’t care. I have no desire to eat at a restaurant with the word “pain” in the title. Besides, who want to eat at the airport? Not I!
After arriving in San Francisco, we didn’t want to stop in The City to eat because of the traffic. We headed for the “open road” of Highway 101, driving north to our destination in Mendocino.
Although we knew, from seeing their advertising in the past, that The Green Mill Restaurant awaited us in Petaluma, we had no desire to wait that long to eat, and their advertising didn’t appeal to us. I’m sure the folks meant for me to read this as “Food At It’s Best,” but my eyes read “At It’s Best … Food.” That just doesn’t speak to me.
Instead, we exited the highway in San Rafael in hopes that we could find something other than generic restaurants. We turned down Third Street and I saw a cheerful green building that proclaimed “Sol Food … Puerto Rican Cuisine.” There was a line out the door, and I squealed, “That’s it!” My husband replied, “Yep, that’s where the locals eat.”
Once inside, I discovered myself in one of those “family style” restaurants. Now, I have no problem sitting at a table with strangers (my husband will tell you that no one is a stranger to me for long), but I get bumfuzzled when I enter a new restaurant and am asked to choose my meal from a board on the wall. I need a few moments to peruse the menu, so I can make a wise choice.
Fortunately for me, a young woman walked down the line of customers taking orders. She asked, “Have you been here before?” I put on my most polite voice. Some people say I’m “talking Brenda,” after the character on television show, The Closer. I maintain that Kyra Sedgewick modeled her character on my speech patterns, so she is really “talking Shelly.” You may think I’m crazy, but when I talk with my Southern drawl I usually get special treatment. Ask my husband … he will tell you it’s true.
“No ma’am, I”ve never been her before in all my natural born days,” I drawled. “We are visiting here from Texas, could you please suggest something good?”
Without hesitation, she pointed at the menu and said, “People drive for miles for the Pollo al Horno. It’s got everything you want to try.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll have that.”
My husband drooled, “Me, too!” I’m not sure if he thought that “Pollo al Horno” meant “horny chicken,” because I did hear him mutter that. It means, I think, “chicken from the oven.” Whatever it means, I’m darned glad that I stopped my trial period of “eating like a vegetarian” and became the omnivore that the Good Lord meant me to be!
This is what they brought me!
Are you salivating yet? The menu describes this as boneless, skinless chicken thighs marinated with garlic and oregano then baked. I had mine served with rice and black beans, organic salad, and sweet fried plantain. The drink in the background is called “Ponche,” and it’s a delicious mix of mango iced tea and limeade.
I tell you what, people. That food was so good that I was moaning like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally! The woman next to me was in the same state of ecstasy. She told me that she and her girlfriend had driven out from Oakland (about an hour drive) just to go to this restaurant. Not to be outdone, I told her, “We flew from Texas just for this!”
That meal was so delicious that I licked the plate. I’m not lying. I thought I wouldn’t possibly be hungry again that day.
But, then we arrived at our bed and breakfast in Fort Bragg. The man behind the desk said, “May I suggest a local restaurant?”
I said, “Is fat meat greasy?”
He said, “Franklin Street Cafe is very good, and it’s where a lot of locals eat. They are offering coupons for free beer or wine with a meal.”
How was I supposed to resist that?
Later that evening, we drove down to give the place a try. Who should be standing outside, but the man from the hotel! “Is this some kind of scam?” I asked. He laughingly assured me it was not.
I ordered Thai Style BBQ Ribs with a Fresh Mango Salad. The presentation was marvelous, and it lived up to its looks! I’d eat that every day of the week, if someone else would cook it.
Eric ordered a Covelo Beef Burger with Applewood Smoked Bacon and Pimiento Cheese with a side of cheese grits. I kid you not, he put out his tongue and licked the burger and began to moan!
The locals were a happy lot, too!
The place was packed with people from the area enjoying this fine American Fusion Cuisine. Once again, we ate until we were stuffed. I just hope we still fit into our clothes that we brought to wear to the wedding! I’m gonna be mortified if I have to fasten the zipper of that sparkly dress with safety pins! But, that’s not going to stop me from trying more of the restaurants where the locals eat!
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A few days back my IPOD played Mendocino County Line in your honor. How do you return the favor? Beautiful pictures of beautiful California food in front of a dieting expatriate ….. Hope you continue to have a happy time
You already know that I’m wicked like that
. Can I say “wish you were here?” I wouldn’t share, but…
It was the Bay area where I found my favorite restaurant in the whole world — a little Italian restaurant that even allows dogs inside. My best friend and I stumbled into the place during an afternoon of shopping at the old towne part of Carmel – where all the touristy shops are with eyebrow raising prices and terrific “look what I found” bargains – all in the same store. I love that restaurant — PortaBella — so much, I even found their site on youtube and downloaded a picture, put it in a frame and hung it on the kitchen wall. If I could make a chicken and candied walnut salad with raspberry vinaigrette like theirs, I’d never eat out again.
Oh, Barbara! Your comment got eaten by my Akismet Spam protector & I just found it. I’m sorry.
What a wonderful sounding restaurant! Oh, and I LOVE your blog! Thanks for dropping by to visit.
Bravo for passing up Au Bon Pain (‘Good Bread’ in French) at the airport, two good reasons for moving on to better dining pastures. You make a good case of the very best reasons for eating locally. I bet you don’t eat at hotels, either. Why travel if not to sample local cuisine that is made of real food and tastes real good. Looks like a stupendous beginning to a memorable adventure. If we all have to eat anyway, why not eat well?
I try not to eat at hotels, Joy. Though the cuisine I pick isn’t always “local,” I try to find something interesting. I figure that if I’m gonna get fat when I travel, I’m gonna be happy!
That’s so funny that you “talk Brenda” because every time I watch Brenda I think she sounds just like you! Even though I knew what “pain” was it French (that’s about all I can recall after 7 years of studying the language), I would have passed on that, too! What you found looks scrumptious!
I think you can tell by the way I write that I talk like that, but darlin’ you don’t know the half of it. What I found WAS scrumptious … and I plan on finding more!
The photographs are magazine quality- I can almost taste those ribs! so enjoyed this post-
High praise, ridgely! Thank you … now let me see if I can stuff my “swelled head” through the door
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