Odds and Sods

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December 13-19, 2006

Made in the North Bay:

‘Pottery Barn doesn’t fit the bill for us,” laughs Dione Carston, creative director and buyer for Martin Showroom in St. Helena. “If someone has an interesting personality and is looking for more eccentricity, they come here. This is the place to come for people who don’t want someone else to say, ‘Oh, I have that too.'”

Opened in 2004 by interior designer Erin Martin to accommodate such oversized collectibles that can only be comfortably fitted into oversized homes, Martin Showroom changes its stock almost weekly and features work by such area artists as Gordon Huether. On a more mortal level, Carston is excited right now about the sun jars ($61) by artist Tobias Wong that, she explains, “look like old mason jars but are solar-powered.” Sit them on the windowsill all day, and they’ll provide a warm glow for up to eight hours at night.

Martin also carries sculpture by West Marin genius Evan Shively, a former chef (Oliveto, Postrio, Manka’s), who has established an environmentally smart wood mill on Tomales Bay that Carston explains is almost a religious sanctuary. All the wood Shively uses is reclaimed. A beautiful heavenward sculpture by him illuminates a corner of the Martin Showroom on a semipermanent basis.

“Whatever we want is what comes in,” Carston laughs. “That way, we’re happy if it doesn’t sell.” 1350 Main St., St. Helena. 707.967.8787.–G.G.

There’s a certain kind of Santa who likes to help plump up the Christmas stocking with little soaps and unguents. This year, Santa can add toothpaste to the list. But there’s a minty twist to this hygienic tale: This particular brand of toothpaste not only whitens and cleans, protects against plaque and scrubs up the gums–it also works as an effective appetite suppressant. Please meet Crave-Breakerâ„¢, a product admittedly produced in Australia but whose North Bay cred comes from Great White Trading Co., the Santa Rosa company that imports it exclusively into the United States.

Made from a homeopathic formula that reportedly reduces food desires, Crave-Breaker has also quelled the nicotine and alcohol jones, according to anecdotal reports. Brush your teeth and get thin! Brush your teeth and stay sober! Brush your teeth and be smoke-free! Now that’s some happy holiday. Currently only available at Amazon.com and Raley’s, a West Coast food chain that includes Nob Hill and Bel Air markets in its umbrella, Crave-Breaker can be found at the stores in Napa (Nob Hill Foods, 611 Trancas St.; Raley’s, 217 Soscol Ave.), Rohnert Park (Raley’s, 100 Raley’s Town Center), Santa Rosa (Raley’s, 1407 Fulton Road) and Windsor (Raley’s, 8852 Lakewood Drive).–G.G.

It’s not the thought that counts, it’s the experience of a gift that matters. At least that’s the message from Excitations, a Virginia-based company offering a variety of “experiential gift packages” throughout the North Bay.

Wrap up a chance to bike and paddle through the Napa and Dry Creek valleys ($185), a personal tasting with the winemaker at Signorello Vineyards in Napa ($335 for four people) or a family sleepover at Safari West in Santa Rosa ($535).

“Physical objects are soon forgotten, but the memory of receiving a unique experience can last a lifetime,” says Excitations CEO Ian Landy.

The company has set up partnerships with local businesses to offer a range of possibilities. Prices range from $50 to $8,000. And if you’re not sure exactly what experience would thrill a particular recipient, you can buy a “circle” certificate for $75-$500 which lets the person choose among a list of possibilities in your price range. www.excitations.com.–P.L.H.

This is not a sex joke: What gives at least 12 times a year? A calendar, you silly, and silly is the serious order of the day with the work of Sonoma County sculptor Patrick Amiot. Famously adorning Florence Avenue in Sebastopol with his whimsical found-object works depicting surfers and Amazonian women and fire fighters and planes, Amiot has also helped to establish a Folk Art for Schools program. Selling for $10 each, glossy four-color calendars that feature Amiot’s giddy sculptures are available throughout the North Bay. Now in its fourth year, the project has raised over $100,000 for area school programs since its inception. Help the kids and get something at least 12 times next year. That’s not a sex joke, either. www.folkartforschools.com.–G.G.

Next time filling the pantry means a trip to Whole Foods, keep an eye out for your wardrobe, too. Besides organic food, the grocery’s West Coast branches also stock Indigenous, a line of organic clothing, made from natural and organic fibers like alpaca, silk, bamboo, Tencel and cotton. The Santa Rosa-based wholesale company works with some 275 knitting and weaving cooperatives, who construct the handmade garments, which range from about $70 to $140. Indigenous pays workers–primarily in Ecuador, Peru and India–20 percent to 300 percent more than what they would make on their own. Trying to ensure that workers have a say in their own economic gain, the 12-year-old company has recently blossomed. Last month, Indigenous delivered its first batch of sweaters to Eileen Fischer.

“We’re hardcore into our values,” says Indigenous co-founder Scott Leonard. “It’s like the band theory. We were local for a while; all of a sudden, we’ve gotten a hit.” It’s the hit felt round the world. Leonard estimates that since inception, his company has been able to pay well over $5 million to garment workers, or “artisans,” as he calls them. www.indigenousdesigns.com.–B.A.

The Evans Galleries traffic in the type of dark masculine glass and ceramics shot through with gold that happen to look very good when placed under a peck of persimmons. In silvered decanters that look appropriate to Cleopatra’s boudoir. In amber-tinged vessels that should never be sullied with more than a single stem. Specializing in glass, both hand-blown and hand-painted, as well as raku pottery, this five-person design studio has a very distinctive look to its work. Based in Healdsburg, the group has an outlet near home and one in Calistoga.

The bowls, platters, glasses, decanters and other useful objects that Evans produces have a sense of history to them, almost as though they were unearthed from some uniquely clean and modern section of ancient Pompeii. Prices range between $75 and $200; this is the type of craft that looks very good indeed with a credit card headed toward it. Healdsburg, 332 Healdsburg Ave., 707.473.0963. Calistoga, 1421 Lincoln Ave., 707.942.0453.–G.G.

Buy a grape, help a vineyard worker? In a sense, that’s just what Back Room Wines in Napa hopes that holiday shoppers will consider doing.

Back Room has teamed up with Discovery Editions, a company that has developed proprietary technology allowing them to exactly recreate–short of time travel–works of art. They can even nail the luminosity. This particular company occupies itself specifically with art created during the Age of Discovery, when plants and animals were lovingly annotated by artists who were as much scientists as painters.

In partnering with Back Room, Discovery Editions has provided a limited set of artworks devoted to the noble grape and produced by various artists between 1570 and 1803. Twenty percent of all purchases will be donated directly to the Napa Valley Community House for Farmworker’s Fund, which not only helps with housing but provides advocacy on many levels. Those who like to sit while they shop can visit www.discoveryeditions.com/brw and grant 10 percent of sales to the farmworkers’ fund. Prints retail at about $500. 974 Franklin St., Napa. 707.226.1378.–G.G.


The Forgotten Art of Audacity

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December 13-19, 2006

“The minute that U2 is a crap band, we’re all out of here. And crap isn’t measured by sales or even relevance. It’s about the sense of adventure. Is it still there? Are you still blowing your own mind? Are you still growing as a musician and as a songwriter?” –Bono, 1998

I’m still kicking myself for missing U2 and Oasis in concert back in June 1997. Driving to the airport, I saw the Popmart tour’s 100-foot, McDonald’s-spoofing golden arch rising out of Oakland Stadium (now called McAfee Coliseum) and was enthralled. But, $50 was a lot for a 17-year-old a couple of weeks after graduation. I remember the bustling naiveté of that summer fondly, but both bands’ new retrospectives show that they’d rather forget the late ’90s altogether.

U218 Singles spotlights the band’s impressive roster of songs the world knows by heart, from the chiming anthem “Pride” to the regurgitated guitar crunch of “Vertigo,” but nothing from 1997’s Pop, their immersion in electronica and trip-hop textures. U2 seemed bulletproof in the ’90s, having successfully gone from holier than thou chest-thumpers to self-mocking ironists while keeping both their philanthropic and artistic integrity intact. The album and tour, announced in a K-Mart under a sign reading “Pop Group,” were poised to cement their status as rock’s Andy Warhols.

Of course, the entire extravagant undertaking was a critical and commercial flop and the band has since sworn off theatrical multimedia spectacles and musically retreated to more uplifting, echoing guitar-driven anthems, many appearing on U218 Singles. But Pop remains U2’s last “new” album, with the band still deviating from successful formulas. Bono was at his lyrical peak, with astonishingly dark explorations of consumerism, fame, faith and the perils of pop culture trash.

And while “Discotheque” is even more ridiculous today, the rolling rocker “Staring at the Sun” is far superior to “Elevation,” as is the mournful yet resolute appeal for Irish peace, “Please,” a more mature and complex dissertation than the youthfully outraged “Sunday Bloody Sunday.”

It was poetic justice for many when U2 got trapped in their enormous lemon during a Norway concert that summer, but Popmart’s provocative visuals–like an evolutionary chart ending with a shopping cart-wielding homosapien–were endlessly more imaginative than their current show, a Stones-like, guaranteed night o’ crowd-pleasers for which $50 can barely get you in. U2’s tours now make news for their record-breaking profits (although the Stones recently reclaimed the top spot), a feat undoubtedly contradictory to their incessant reminders they emerged from punk rock. It’s ironic that one of U218‘s two new tracks is an obscure Skids cover with Green Day, considering U2 best embodied this spirit by foregoing punk’s commercialization in favor of synthesizers and shtick.

Oasis was a stellar opener to have in ’97. The brash British quintet was making headlines as much for their swaggering hard rock as for their hard-partying lifestyle, reminding the “alternative nation” of rock and roll excess. Loudmouthed songwriter Noel Gallagher feuded via the press with Blur, suggested that reluctant rock stars like Eddie Vedder go work in a gas station, and repeatedly crowned Oasis “the best band in the world.” Noel and his brother Liam’s infighting made them the Davies brothers of my generation in an ongoing bout of the talent vs. the pretty face. Back then, you weren’t sure if singer Liam would even show up for a gig until you saw his ennui-ridden unibrow sauntering downstage. But musically, they were at the top of their game.

Then came the third act. Be Here Now was not the masterpiece expected after the one-two punch of Britpop classics. It reeked of forced psychedelia, with Oasis taking their self-professed Beatles succession to heart, even attempting to emulate the utopian vision of “All You Need is Love” with the awful, horn-drenched hit “All Around the World.” Suddenly, the John Lennon sunglasses didn’t seem so quaint. Although the album was more Dr. Pepper than Sgt. Pepper, their sheer gall was something to behold, especially in an age of ubiquitous anti-rock stars.

Considering the subsequent band member departures, divorces and drug addiction (explaining their judgment regarding master ax-man Johnny Depp’s guest spot), Stop the Clocks‘ sole disavowal of Be Here Now is understandable. But some songs were actually hits, like the excellent, Smiths-like, melancholic ballad “Don’t Go Away.” And “All Around the World” still packs enough twenty-something nostalgia for a recent AT&T commercial. But in their place are mediocre B-sides and the Liam-penned “Songbird,” a decent elementary effort that does little else aesthetically but corroborate their sibling rivalry’s evolution into mutual respect. Furthermore, Oasis’ 18-track collection is spread over two discs, a deceptive cash-in that makes me long for the days when their fan disregard came in the form of berating from the stage.

Although their brilliance plateaued with Be Here Now, it’s disheartening to see Noel trading his own hype for those of others. “I wouldn’t be arrogant enough to try to convince people that Don’t Believe the Truth is a better album than Definitely Maybe; it wasn’t,” he recently told Spin. “You can’t argue with the masses.”

In hindsight, I skipped more that June than an amazing double bill or the best arena rock light show that money could buy. I missed two beloved bands on their last creative legs, with their artistic spirit not yet crushed under the weight of commerce and public opinion. Sure, Oasis and U2 are only human and I’ve since learned there’s nothing remotely cool about fighting with my brother, but I don’t need more reminders of mankind’s foibles. What I need are newcomers to truly believe they’re the next Beatles, while boldly quipping that Elton John only writes songs about “dead blonde girls.” And I need the biggest band in the world to risk it all over an electronic fetish–not to be content remaking The Joshua Tree or Achtung Baby over and over again. With my class of ’97 reunion closing in, I realize that while some of us were just beginning, others were already done.


Populist Purchases

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December 13-19, 2006

Made in the North Bay:


Hot Peppers is an appropriate name for a sweet little shop in downtown Sebastopol. The name of the game at this cooperative artisan guild is variety. And variety is what? Yes, it’s the spice of life. The shop opened in September 2006 on Main Street, and is a cooperative of about 20 local artisans.

The cooperative came together through the efforts of Paula Downing, the manager of the Sebastopol farmers market. The original 17 members were all vendors at the farmers market. Downing noticed when the storefront came open, saw that the rent was reasonable and quickly mobilized. She explained that craft shows, often the bread and butter for a craftsperson, are hard to get into and they’ve gotten so large, that the pie is divided into pieces too small to make much of a profit. She contacted the vendors she had been working with at the market over the last decade–a group she enjoys spending time with anyway–to see whether they’d be game for a regular place to show their handiwork. Almost everyone agreed to join.

The way it works is this: Everyone pays monthly dues that cover the rent and operating expenses. It’s not a strict co-op in that not everyone works the store, but those who do are paid for their time out of the dues. While they mind the store, the artists have time to work on their craft. The shopkeeper might be sewing, beading or even spinning wool while you browse. The store does carry a few things that are not locally crafted, like straw baskets and hats handmade in a village in Burkina Faso. But these items are imported by someone who once lived in the village where the baskets are made and who knows that the conditions are ethical and fair. Issues of fair trade and the jurying in of new artisans are handled by a committee of members. The shop will also periodically hold free art events, like wool-spinning demonstrations.

Downing’s involvement with the Sebastopol farmers market began when she grew plants to sell there. At the end of one season, about 13 years ago, the folks who were running it moved away and the market collapsed. Downing couldn’t stand the idea of the market dying, so she called a meeting at her house, organized the people involved and so revitalized the market. Downing says, “I’m fond of the feeling I get when I create something vibrant with other people,” and so, too, it seems are the townspeople at the beloved Sebastopol farmers market.

Here are a few of the many things you’ll find in the shop: jewelry made from crystals, semiprecious stones, abalone and hand-painted pendants; handmade straw baskets ($30) and hats from West Africa; therapeutic botanical salves, oils, sprays and sachets made from organic sustainable plants and crafted by an herbalist-aromatherapist-homeopathist (starting at $5); hand knitwear, including ponchos, shawls, sweaters, shrugs, hats and scarves, made from both natural (wool, alpaca, angora, cotton, rayon) and synthetic (polyamide, nylon and acrylic) fibers (starting at $10); hand-spun and dyed wool from the spinner’s own sheep (small skeins starting at $4); hand-painted, functional pottery (microwave-, dishwasher- and oven safe); simple, sturdy, colorful Waldorf dolls made from recycled wool and cotton ($25); botanical elixirs, tinctures, lotions and creams; spiral journals made from rescued children’s books ($12); gorgeous hand-loomed and embroidered wool shawls ($90); and more.

If you’re looking for a reasonably priced, unique, locally handcrafted gift for this holiday season, come have a poke around at Hot Peppers Artisan Guild, and you’ll be supporting local art at the same time!

Hot Peppers Artisan Guild, 207 N. Main St, Sebastopol. 707.829.3082.

Doing It for Themselves

Some of our favorite North Bay collectives

Artisans’ Co-Op Gallery A cooperative of over 40 artists: potters, spinners, weavers, glassblowers, quilters, felters, jewelry makers, painters, photographers and sculptors. Here you’ll find zany hats, impossibly soft hats, rabbit hats, even canine-hair hats! Also, beaded jewelry, locally grown, hand-spun wool of all kinds, knitting and spinning supplies, handmade furry leather booties, sweaters, rugs, photographs and more. Full members (who work two to three days per month, pay the rent and attend monthly meetings) receive 100 percent of the tag. So when you shop here, you know where your money is going. 17135-A Bodega Hwy., Bodega. 707.876.9830.

Arts Guild of Sonoma A collective of over 35 local artists and craftspeople who support and maintain the gallery. Monthly exhibits are kicked off the first Friday of every month with an artists’ reception from 6pm to 8pm. For the holiday, the gallery exhibits their “Holiday Invitational,” featuring local guest artists specially invited by Guild members and includes holiday-themed and festive jewelry, ornaments, wearable textiles like hand-painted silk scarves, and more. Come the new year, the Guild will be celebrating its 30th year. 140 East Napa St., Sonoma. 707.996.3115.

ArtWorks Downtown While not a traditional collective, ArtWorks does collect artists together, providing affordable studios, gallery space and a professional rotation to show artists’ work, art classes for the community and housing to qualified artists. They are supported by the public, including individuals, businesses and foundations. Look for high-end fine art, including paintings and sculpture, as well as jewelry, fiber arts, costumes and photography. 1331 Fourth St., San Rafael. 415.454.2711.

Blue Heron Gallery This storefront specializes in the art of Northern California artists, including painting in watercolor and oil as well as metal and wire art, Raku and photography by award-winning local artists. We particularly like the whimsical found-object creations of sculptor Phillip Glashoff. 6525 Washington St., Yountville. 707.944.2044.

Gallery Route One This is an artist-run collective with more than 20 members. The exhibits of painting, photography and sculpture change monthly, with an opening reception the first Sunday afternoon of each month. Artists work in a wide range of media, including hand-cast paper, monoprints and three-dimensional textiles. While tiny–it’s actually just an open spot by a front window–the craft gallery area is full of lovely surprises, such as unusual earrings, clocks, wall plaques and other humorous and cunning items perfect for gift-giving. Currently on show is “The Blue Paint Murder,” an interactive murder-mystery art show that dares viewers to guess whodunnit. 11101 Hwy. 1, Point Reyes Station. 415.663.1347.

Graton Gallery A collective of eight full-time artist-members and 50-plus guest artists who leave works on consignment that showcases fine art and crafts created by Sonoma County artists, including beautifully framed regional photographs and oil painting, outdoor sculpture, ceramics, textiles, jewelry and glass. Matted oils and watercolors in standard frame sizes make a great gift for only $30. From handmade cards for $5 to framed fine art works ranging in price from $100 to $10,000, you just might find all of your holiday gifts here. Artist shows rotate every six weeks. Current exhibit is “Hot Chocolate Art Show,” a holiday group show that runs from Dec. 12 to Jan. 21 with an opening reception on Sunday, Dec. 17, from 2pm to 6pm. 9048 Graton Road, Graton. 707.829.8912.

Hand Goods Featuring handcrafts created predominantly by local artists and craftspeople, this store offers many inexpensive gift items, including beaded jewelry, bags, clothing, cute felted wool change purses, handmade holiday cards, wooden chopsticks and bowls, and much more. This place is huge, like a hippie artisan mall. 3627 Main St., Occidental. 707.874.2161.

Renga Arts Renga Arts produces and sells funky, fabulous gift items all made from reclaimed, recycled and salvaged materials. OK, so it’s not an artisan guild, but this shop is too cool! Gifts abound, ranging from pop-top purses, bicycle-spoke bracelets and shotgun-shell bud vases to billboard totes with seatbelt handles, vintage vinyl coasters, clocks and bowls made from original vinyl records. And don’t miss co-owner Joe Szuecs’ beautiful birdhouses, which he says are “intended to promote a positive deterioration over time.” 3605 Main St., Occidental. 707.874.9407. Note: Open Friday-Monday, or by appointment only.

Upstairs Art Gallery Comprised entirely of members of the Santa Rosa Art Guild, more than 30 members regularly show works in ceramic, wood, oils and glass. Check out the ceramic bird baths, detailed wood carvings of wild birds, oil paintings, functional glass works and much more. 306 Center St., Healdsburg. 707.431.4214.

Molly Jackel


Forging Ahead

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December 13-19, 2006

Made in the North Bay:

Stepping into the blacksmith’s forge in the heart of San Francisco’s SOMA district is like taking a step back in time. A power hammer made in 1910 lumbers imposingly next to the forge itself, which heats metal to 2000 degrees F through a natural-gas fire. Two men are putting the finishing touches on a beautiful bronze balcony: master blacksmith Angelo Garro and his apprentice, Jeff Burwell.

The 28-year-old Burwell, a trained painter and sculptor, warns the visitor, “Watch that saw. It has seven horsepower and can cut through anything.”

Not exactly fitting the image of a sweating, barrel-shaped blacksmith covered in coal dust and tattered rags, Burwell–who hails from Healdsburg–smiles. “Blacksmiths used to do all of this work by hand,” he explains, “which is why you get this image of a huge, muscular blacksmith when you think of that profession.” He laughs, “Today, all the hammering is done on the machine.”

Pulling out a pounded brass rod from a jumble of metal pieces, he hefts it in his hand.

“This is the first project I ever did with Angelo,” he says proudly. The once-round brass bar, which was reduced from half an inch to five-eighths, is beautifully hammered into a square length, the little strokes from hand-finishing on the anvil catching the light like a prism.

Malleable bronze is used most often at Garro’s Renaissance Forge in SOMA. The intricately detailed work is begun by creating a stainless steel jig that the bronze pieces are then worked around. Because all the work is hand-finished, each piece looks just a little bit different.

Like any dedicated craftsman, Burwell takes his work seriously. As a first-year art student, he never thought he’d be working as a blacksmith after graduation, but when he reflects on his first metal-working class it seems obvious that in metal lies his passion.

“It just gelled so fast,” Burwell says. “It’s the immediacy of welding, and hammering. It’s almost like Legos.”

After graduating from the California College of the Arts in San Francisco, Burwell burned out. So he hightailed it to Healdsburg and worked as a cellar rat at Geyser Peak for six months, fueling what is destined to be a lifelong passion for winemaking, before returning to live and work in San Francisco.

“I tried to find a job but couldn’t,” he recalls. “I mean, I had a painting major. What are you supposed to do with that?” An exhibit of Burwell’s work opens Dec. 15 at the Palette Art Cafe in Healdsburg.

Offering to work for free, Burwell approached the renowned blacksmith and forger Angelo Garro, the man who took Michael Pollan boar hunting, who finds Alice Waters her urban fennel and who is a longtime friend of his parents. Garro took Burwell under his wing one day a week, which turned into a full-time apprenticeship after just a few months.

“I wanted to learn more about metal, and it seemed like it would be a good trade to have under my belt,” Burwell says.

And although he follows his mentor when working at the forge, when Burwell gets into his own studio, the rules go out the door. Another artist, he says, might sit down and design a piece, sketching an outline. Burwell likes to sit down with a pile of “whatever” and go from there.

A pile of whatever?

“Yeah, you know, like steel dust, and I did a lot of epoxy resin work this last year,” he explains. Discovering new ways of doing things is Burwell’s way. He describes his finished paintings as “happy accidents.”

Burwell’s large-scale paintings are abstracts reminiscent of landscapes both external and internal. He explains that he’s more involved in the surface and the textures of the materials themselves. And although Burwell says his paintings are more about the materials used than the representation, others beg to differ.

“When you squint your eyes, instead of a painting on the wall you see emotions, and human behavioral manifestations,” says Garro, Burwell’s mentor in metal and life.

These manifestations are sometimes calm, sometimes in conflict, and sometimes allegorical, evoking a sense of something that is better felt than explained.

“In Jeff’s sculpture, you see lines that cross, conflict each other even though it’s a human form,” Garro says. “People respond because they see themselves in it.”

Jeff Burwell and Jessica Martin exhibit mixed-media work Dec. 15-Jan. 28. An opening reception is slated for Saturday, Dec. 16, from 6pm to 8pm. Palette Art Cafe, 235 Healdsburg Ave., (behind the La Crema tasting room), Healdsburg, 707.433.2788.


Calendar Grrrls

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December 13-19, 2006

Made in the North Bay:


As far as Ann Hancock is concerned, the idea was literally all around her. As president of the Climate Protection Campaign (CPC), a nonprofit based in the western Sonoma County wilds of Graton, Hancock is used to being surrounded by interns and volunteers. But what she noticed last year was that, without exception, all of the interns and volunteers busying themselves in her office were beautiful. And young.

To wit, they were babes.

“We kept wondering, ‘Why are all these beautiful women with us, and what can we do about it?'” Hancock laughs merrily, seated in the upstairs offices of the CPC, housed in Graton’s Atelier One mixed-use warehouse space.

Hancock, who taught human sexuality at Humboldt State University at an earlier point in her life (she also used to be a real estate broker), figured that beautiful women love the earth just the way that all of us love the earth and beautiful women. “The same things that makes us love the earth makes us love each other,” she echoes.

Hancock’s even written an article on the subject, “Sexy Sustainability,” in which she argues that the three main taboos about sex in Western society are the same constraints that keep the general public from lustily embracing the environmental movement. We’re grossly uninformed about both topics, she says; we have the same senseless taboos about the roles of politics and capitalism as we do about frank sexual discussion; and fear, shame and guilt form a relentless troika in the bedroom as in the boardroom.

And so with the same sanguine attitude and focused attention that’s helped make Sonoma County’s CPC a model for the rest of the nation, Hancock set out to marry the very sexy and the very sustainable in a unique fundraiser for her nonprofit: Ecobabes, a 2007 calendar. Featuring 12 Sonoma County women, many of them indeed former CPC volunteers and interns, the calendar’s glossy, high-design pages showcase a different concept (“Local,” “Global,” “Mindful”) and a large four-color photo of a mostly clad female figure. Shot by Petaluma photographer Scott Hess and designed by the international team Hello SF–who work across the hall from the CPC and just happen to have created all of Apple’s packaging as well as the OS X desktop, a full line of Swatch products and, oh, just a few campaigns for the Banana Republic–Ecobabes is, to many, tasteful and fun.

What’s been most rollicking for Hancock are the few unusual suspects who don’t see it that way. There are the local booksellers who reportedly rejected the calendar as being “cheesy and salacious,” refusing to carry it in their otherwise progressive store. But most of all, there’s been Hancock’s new idol, Northcoast Environmental Center office manager Alisha Clompus, who refused to allow her Arcata-based group to sell the calendar in its boutique. That led the San Francisco Chronicle to give the Ecobabes front-page status and an online poll (out of 611 respondents, 63 percent clicked off on “If it bothers you, don’t buy it”), which in turn prompted a Chico radio station to host a two-hour talk show on the topic, which for its part has lead to great big swadges of free publicity for Ecobabes and the CPC.

“The best reaction,” Hancock smiles, “is, ‘This is hilarious!'”

Women taking it off for fundraising calendars is hardly a shocking new phenomenon. Locally, the horsewomen of Novato have been doing it to great huzzahs for years, and such a radical notion was pioneered in part by English society matrons whose story eventually became a movie starring Helen Mirren, but could just have easily been enacted by Camilla Parker-Bowles.

Frankly, the 12 activists who posed as Ecobabes hardly take it off. With the exception of Bonny (no last names were used, to ward off potential eco-stalkers), who appears to be nude but stands silhouetted against a clean linen sheet hanging on a line–dryers are eco-bad!–the women wear street clothes and sports clothes and are photographed biking, lying lushly amid produce, standing in front of solar panels or at a water’s edge. Pornographer Larry Flynt would be terribly disappointed.

“If this is controversial, great,” Hancock says. “We want to make people feel like it’s something that they can be a part of.”

Inclusion lies at the heart of Hancock’s cunning plan. For at least a generation, she says, the environmental movement has been mostly successful at scaring people. And frightened folks emulate ostriches better than they do eco-warriors. “The global climate change message is changing,” she says. “We’ve been yammering on about the same situation for the last 20 years. Yet we’ve been apathetic and in despair as a people. Most people are terrified and don’t even want to listen. Do you give them more to frighten them? No. Because what’s the reaction? ‘Sorry, I’d rather watch the game.'”

The CPC uses a Matrix-like campaign to cajole and soften, featuring a poster of suit-clad activists in dark glasses lined up à la Keanu Reeves above the tag-line, “Climate protection–it’s not a job for the weak.”

“These are the ways that we’re working to bring our ideas into the public consciousness,” Hancock says.

“Besides,” she concludes, offering a sly smile, “People who protect the climate are very sexy.”

To purchase an Ecobabes calendar, go to www.ecobabes.org. To learn more about the Climate Protection Campaign, go to www.climateprotectioncampaign.org.


Crazy Christmas Carol

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Once upon a time in 1994, I was cruising the record bins at Goodwill when I discovered, tucked between the dusty easy-listening LPs and housed in a white paper sleeve, a small, red flexi-disc called “Dinosaur Christmas Song.” It was weird. It piqued my interest. It was 35 cents.

I bought it and took it home, completely unaware that I had just welcomed into my life what would eventually become my favorite Christmas song of all time.

The record’s label was credited to “Coddingtown Center,” the Santa Rosa shopping mall where I’d spent many a listless childhood afternoon, and sure enough, when I put the needle on the flimsy piece of plastic, I was treated to a zany song all about how the very first Christmas ever was celebrated by dinosaurs on the land now known as the Coddingtown Shopping Center. What’s more, it was sung by a ridiculous man with a terrible thespian-reject British accent, fleshed out by a chorus of female backup singers and the constant groaning of dinosaurs in the background. Hear it for yourself.

In the song’s story, the dinosaurs of Coddingtown have a collective prophetic dream foreseeing the future (“There was singing and laughter in a funny kind of prehistoric way”) and work together to reenact their vision by scraping together some decorations (“They didn’t have bells and they didn’t have lights / But they had good feelings, so that’s all right”) and giving each other gifts (“just rocks, that’s all”) where Coddingtown now stands.I was instantly enamored with its godforsaken wackiness, and I promptly used it to torment my roommates.

But something happened during the ensuing 12 years of pulling out the “Dinosaur Christmas” record every December and playing it for anyone unlucky enough to be in my vicinity. I found that I secretly liked the song, even aimed, as it is, at atheist children who have accidentally swallowed PCP. In fact, Christmas just isn’t Christmas for me without hearing its utterly absurd lyrics, bizarrely recited by the high-minded singer over the song’s innocuous hook.

As the “Dinosaur Christmas Song” was plucked from my record collection each year, I would ask myself a long list of questions. Why does this record exist? Who in the world came up with this song, and who is that crazy guy singing it? How was it distributed to the public, and how could it have possibly benefited Coddingtown Shopping Center?

This year, I finally decided to try and find some answers to the riddle of “Dinosaur Christmas Song.”

I knew that I had to head first to Coddingtown. But I also knew that I couldn’t just stroll into the office wielding an arcane artifact from over 20 years ago, demanding an explanation. Therefore, I prepared myself as best I could. I had the record, but I also brought along a copy of the song on a CD and a small cassette recorder, cued up and at the ready. Even as I explained my case to the receptionist, I held out very little hope that I would be taken seriously.

But the holiday season does something to people–it touches them with humanity and opens them up to what in any other month would merely be a stupid idea. Soon the whole office had spilled out into the waiting area to try and figure out where my record came from, and as I played my cassette, I witnessed a huddle of office workers break into wide eyes and aghast smiles. Unfortunately, nobody knew anything.

“Ask the janitors. They’ve all been here longer than us,” someone offered. “Maybe it’s the same guy who sang ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,'” guessed another.

I did get a tip, though. The woman who was assistant manager at Coddingtown in the 1980s–the era we estimated the record was made in–still worked for Codding Enterprises. I got her name and drove straight to the Codding offices, which, as one approaches, is a lot like the ascent to Hearst Castle: a long, lonesome road with an imposing and largely empty building at the end. Luckily, the woman I was looking for was down with my quest; she popped the CD straight into her computer.

“I totally remember listening to this in the office!” she quickly exclaimed, her face lighting up with the memory. She tapped her feet, and for a moment I even thought I caught her humming along–the only other person on this planet besides me who seemed to actually enjoy the “Dinosaur Christmas Song.” Prospects, all of a sudden, looked good. But alas.

“I have no idea where it came from,” she admitted. She seemed sad to say so. She also couldn’t recall how the record was distributed to the public. “It could have been one of the many marketing ideas we had at the time,” she sighed, explaining that she’d lost touch with the marketing director who might know.

But she gave me a tip to look up the 1980s Coddingtown manager, now working across town at Montgomery Village Shopping Center, and once again the future seemed bright. I clutched my record, kissed it and whispered sweet nothings into its grooves.

It seemed strange to me that no one had another copy of the “Dinosaur Christmas Song.” The record’s manufacturer, Eva-Tone, was the last plant in the United States to make flexi-discs, and checking with them in the early ’90s about prices, I discovered that the minimum order for flexi-discs was 10,000. That’s part of the reason they were given away in magazines and on cereal boxes for so many years, and also the reason why I was sure I’d find someone, somewhere, who remembered it.

Recording studios are where records are made, so over the weekend I stopped by Zone Recording, where decades of radio jingles–in fact, many for Coddingtown–have been recorded. “Nothing as cool as this, though,” said the engineer. I also got in touch with as many old-school radio veterans as I could find, who were all stumped. In a deranged stroke of abject desperation, I even started e-mailing the mp3 to total strangers. Nothing.

Word had been getting around, I suppose, because when I introduced myself at Montgomery Village on Monday morning, I was recognized as “that guy with the dinosaur record.” The manager was in, and finally I found out why the three-minute song that had been dominating my Christmases for the last 12 years was brought into the world.

“It was a promotion,” she cheerfully explained, “where a dinosaur came to Coddingtown for Breakfast with Santa, and everyone who came got a record to take home.” Most likely, I was told, the song belonged to an outside marketing company who reused the music, each time changing the lyrics to suit the needs of their ideas for shopping-center promotions. This one, naturally, just happens to involve children sitting around eating muffins with Santa Claus, hanging out with a huge fake dinosaur–and a pile of 9,800 leftover flexi-discs containing the greatest Christmas song of all time.

But unfortunately, that’s where it all ends. The old marketing director? Long gone. The name of the outside company who would have recorded the song? No clue. The Montgomery Village manager shook my hand and wished me luck, but honestly, if I am ever going to meet the man who wrote and sang my cherished “Dinosaur Christmas Song,” I’m going to need a lot more than luck.

I will need, as they say, a Christmas miracle.

Click here to hear the “Dinosaur Christmas Song”!

First Bite

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December 13-19, 2006

For years, I ate and relished Mark Dierkhising’s tasty food when he cooked at the faculty club on the campus of Sonoma State University. I’ve just started to eat and relish the food he’s cooking at Dierk’s Parkside Cafe–right in my own neighborhood, and in walking distance of downtown Santa Rosa, too.

The place is so new that Dierkhising hasn’t had time to add the name “Dierk’s” to the old sign that’s still displayed outside. But anyone familiar with the old (or was it ancient?) Parkside will be surprised and perhaps even pleasantly shocked by the new menu, and the brand-new appearance of the place. A culinary cross between a cafe and a bistro, Dierk’s serves breakfast, lunch and brunch. The ingredients are fresh, the portions are large, the prices are right and the service is fast, though you can sit leisurely at the counter in comfortable stools and watch Dierkhising and his assistant work their wonders.

The boulevard burrito ($7.95) on a flour tortilla is stuffed with scrambled eggs, shredded chicken, cheddar cheese, black beans and red rice. It’s a meal in itself, and it comes with homemade salsa, too. When you order two eggs ($5.50), served any style you want, you get eggs done to perfection, plus masses of hash browns and toast. If you’re starving and can’t wait for scrambled eggs or an omelette ($7.50), start with one of Dierkhising’s trademark “pull-aparts” that taste like a doughnut but don’t have the hole.

The warm poached egg salad ($8.50) is served with two eggs, frisée, butter lettuce, chopped bacon, croutons and potatoes. The lunch menu includes burgers ($7.50) and a classy BLT ($8.50), as well as roasted chicken with homemade pasta ($9.50) and roasted salmon with white beans and vegetable stew ($12.50). The grilled Caggiano ham sandwich on a roll ($8.50) had so much ham that I could only eat half of it for lunch, saving the rest for a late afternoon snack.

Saturday mornings are my favorite time at Dierk’s. The place comes alive, and customers who used to eat at the old Parkside drift in, lingering at the cafe for conversation before drifting out, lending real character to the place. If you go now, you can be in at the birth of a restaurant that ought to be a set in a movie and that’s bound to become a Santa Rosa landmark.

Dierk’s Parkside Cafe, 404 Santa Rosa Ave., Santa Rosa. Open daily, 6:30am to 2:30pm. 707.573.5955.


Quick-and-dirty dashes through North Bay restaurants. These aren’t your standard “bring five friends and order everything on the menu” dining reviews.

Five Actors, 80 Days

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December 13-19, 2006

Less is more. In the current climate of American theater, where shows with large casts are becoming a thing of the past due to escalating production costs, we will be seeing more and more shows like I Am My Own Wife and Stones in His Pockets, plays written for one or two actors who play dozens of characters single-handedly. One new example is Mark Brown’s creative comic-adventure adaptation of Jules Verne’s Around the World in 80 Days, opening Dec. 15 at the Sixth Street Playhouse. The production, by Santa Rosa’s award-winning Actors Theatre and directed by artistic director Argo Thompson, features five actors taking on 39 roles as they fly through Verne’s epic globe-trotting adventure in a stripped-down adaptation that heightens the humor and excitement while downplaying all of the you-were-there travelogue details of the novel.

The great cast features Paul Huberty as the big-dreaming gambler Phineas Fogg and the shockingly animated Tim Guigni of Napa’s Il Teatro Calamari. If the show turns out to be as good as its advance buzz, we’ll likely be seeing many more shows like it, smartly reduced entertainments that focus on talent and cleverness, doing a whole lot with a whole lot of little.

Around the World in 80 Days opens on Friday, Dec. 15, and runs Thursday-Sunday through Jan. 20. Thursday-Saturday at 8pm; Saturday and Sunday matinees at 2pm (no matinee Dec. 16). Sixth Street Playhouse, 52 W. Sixth St., Santa Rosa. $12-$25. 707.523.4185.


Museums and gallery notes.

Reviews of new book releases.

Reviews and previews of new plays, operas and symphony performances.

Reviews and previews of new dance performances and events.

Stiff Competition

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Call it the battle of the bronzed.

Ninety-nine bronze and marble statues that currently call Washington, D.C., home may gain a new neighbor soon and, metaphorically speaking, say goodbye to a long-standing member of the club. The statue of minister-orator Thomas Starr King is about to be booted from the National Statuary Hall to make room for a brand-new effigy of–wait for it–former president Ronald Reagan. The change will be made some time in 2007, unless a growing movement to demand a public discussion of the issue grants the Rev. King a reprieve.

While there are those who will take a “who cares?” approach to the matter, a growing number of historians are encouraging the public to ponder the fragile significance of those historical figures we choose to represent our state. For some, the stampede to honor Reagan in any and every way possible (he already has an airport, some highways and a great big ship named after him) is taking place at the expense of all Californians, who should be allowed to have some say in the matter.

“A lot of people are upset because we feel that history is being trivialized with this statue decision having been made so casually, without any kind of public input,” says Senator Debra Bowen, D-Marina del Rey, who was just elected to the post of secretary of state. Bowen has asked Gov. Schwarzenegger to request that further action be halted until some sort of public conversation can take place.

“Starr King has been representing California since 1931,” says Bowen. “He was almost single-handedly responsible for keeping California from seceding during the Civil War. California–and arguably the rest of the country, too–would be a very different place if we had seceded from the Union. He also raised unprecedented amounts of money for wounded soldiers, and his writings about Yosemite had a lot do with it eventually becoming a National Park. Why shouldn’t there be more discussion before this man is shown the door? It should be our choice as citizens, which historical figure best represents us.”

As Bowen points out, there was barely any discussion in the state Legislature when that initial door-showing decision was made.

The motion was brought up in the waning seconds of the Legislature’s summer session, late in the evening of Aug. 31. With no warning and nothing in paper filed in advance, the measure was presented by state Sen. Dennis Hollingsworth, R-Murrieta, who proposed that the statue of King be removed from the Statuary Hall and replaced with one of Reagan. Only a few senators in attendance had any idea who Thomas Starr King was, though some of the legislators were familiar with the National Statuary Hall–some had even been there.

But almost no one knew the details: that the gallery was established in 1864 to honor important historical figures from every state in the Union; that it contains two sculptures from each state, for a current total of 100 statues; that, ever since 1931, California’s two rigid representatives have been the Rev. Thomas Starr King and Father Junipero Serra; that recent changes now allow any state to request that one or both of its statues be altered or replaced.

With no time to think about it and no information beyond the fact that they’d heard of Reagan and didn’t know much about the other guy, the state Senate discussed it for less than 30 minutes before voting to approve the measure, with the only “no” vote cast by Sen. Bowen.

“The process was the antithesis of democracy,” Bowen says, “and it is disrespectful to not let us have a discussion about it. [Sen. Hollingsworth’s move] is not a procedural mechanism usually used to make these kinds of discussions.”

A close look at the current residents of the Statuary Hall shows a motley mish-mash of the famous and the forgotten; the figures each state chooses say a lot about that state and how it wants to be viewed. For example, the state of Utah has, as its unmoving representatives, Mormon founder Brigham Young (no surprise there) and the inventor of the television, Philo T. Farnsworth (whose statue was created by James R. Avati, the son of the famous late illustrator James Avati, who lived in Petaluma for the last part of his life). Many of the others are fairly obscure. Quick! Anyone know anything about Maine’s Hannibal Hamlin?

Though Bowen was the only dissenting vote, she is far from alone in her desire to put the brakes on the statue swap, and to call attention to the forgotten man who seems to be losing the instant recognition seal-of-approval.

“This decision is a travesty. The story of Starr King is a glorious story, and it’s such a pity that his reputation has faded so much,” says historian Glenna Matthews of UC Berkeley. Matthews is writing a biography of Starr King, and was, in her words, “floored” when she heard of the state’s decision to bounce King from his place of honor. “This decision should never have been made so casually,” she says. “By rushing this through without the proper period of time to look at it, history is being trivialized.”

At a recent meeting of the Western History Association, she collected supporters for a letter to the governor asking for more time to consider the decision, and hopefully to allow the public to weigh in. “Even if we can’t talk the governor into not pursuing this legislation, we’re hoping to make enough of a stink to raise some public consciousness, because this man was a very, very important figure in the history of our state.”

Thomas Starr King, for the record, was born Dec. 17, 1824, in New York City. A self-educated theologian and the son of a respected minister, King entered the ministry at the age of 20, taking over his father’s post at the First Unitarian Church of Charlestown, Mass. By the 1850s, King had become one of the most celebrated and well-known preachers in New England.

In 1860, on the eve of the American Civil War, he took over the helm of the First Unitarian Church of San Francisco, and though a newcomer to California–which, while deeply divided, seemed certain to join with the South in seceding from the United States–he began speaking enthusiastically and persuasively in support of Abraham Lincoln and the Union. He organized the Pacific Branch of the Sanitary Commission, a precursor to the Red Cross, and raised over $1.5 million for the cause.

King’s speeches before the African-American community of California, in which he hoped for a future world in which Americans of different races would live in harmonious co-existence, makes him one of the country’s earliest proponents of racial equality and multiculturalism. He died of diphtheria in San Francisco on March 4, 1864, a casualty of the relentless cross-country lecturing he’d pursued in support of Lincoln, who dubbed King “the orator who saved the nation.”

“In short,” sums up Matthews, “the things that Starr King cared most about–the environment, freedom of speech, the democratic process, positive racial diversity–are all things that Californians have time and time again made clear that they support. He’s the perfect representative of this state.”

That’s a matter of opinion, surely, and what Matthews, the scholars, and Bowen all want is for the people of California to be able to share their opinions before a final decision is made.

“I don’t object to making a change in the gallery,” Sen. Bowen insists. “What I object is doing it in a way that doesn’t allow Californians a voice in the discussion. We all deserve a voice, and we all deserve a chance to be heard, because we are all a part of this thing called democracy. That’s the very hallmark of what Thomas Starr King stood for.”


Season of Sharing

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Photograph by Rory McNamara
Choc a bloc: Gorgeous little yummies from Wine Country Chocolate & Truffles wait patiently to be devoured.

Like so many other people, I’m dismayed that Christmas has become synonymous with shopping for toys, shopping for clothes, shopping for jewelry, shopping for those fake, plastic, mounted fish that sing “Take Me to the River.” This is ridiculous. Why, oh why do we waste our money, time and energy on all this pointless shopping? If we would just take a minute to stop and get in touch with our feelings, we’d realize that this is not what we crave deep within our souls. We don’t want toys and clothes and singing fish.

No, what we truly crave is sugar. Sweets. Lots and lots of sweets.

So let’s focus on what’s real, and get to shopping for boxes of chocolates to wrap and place under the tree, tins full of cookies to pass out to neighbors, mounds of candies to stuff into Christmas stockings, and of course, a big cake to eat on Christmas Eve. (That cake bit was my very own contribution to family tradition.)

Our first stop is for a box of chocolates to place under the tree. For this, we travel to Glen Ellen and the tasting room of Wine Country Chocolate & Truffles (14301 Arnold Drive, Glen Ellen; 707.996.1010). The tasting room is located in Jack London Village; a few doors away is the olive oil tasting room at the Olive Press, cheese tasting at Raymond & Co. Cheesemongers, and across the street there’s winetasting at Eric Ross Winery.

The room itself is rather small and there’s a large window in the back, through which you can see the chocolate being made in big, shiny, silvery things. Personally, this ruins my happy little vision of someone’s elderly, French grandmother mixing chocolate entirely by hand. On the other hand, my young son can’t believe his good luck as he stares through the window, witnessing two of his very favorite things together: machinery and chocolate.

Behind the bar, two young employees hand me samples from three different bowls of freshly made ganache, which is the creamy center of a truffle. You sample these as you would wine or olive oil, from most subtle to most robust. I place the mixture of chocolate, butter and cream in my mouth. Through a haze, I can see that the employees are talking, probably educating me about the different percentages of cacao in the shell and how chocolate is made and . . . I’m sure they’re very knowledgeable. But I’m in chocolate nirvana and can’t hear a thing.

The company makes all kinds of nifty stuff. For example, in the tasting room, there’s a nice selection of gifts, such as a CD (in a plastic CD case) made out of chocolate. You can bring in a special bottle of wine, and they’ll use it as a filling for their sweet confections. You can even get chocolates molded to look like your company logo.

Personally, I don’t care so much what my chocolates look like as long as they taste like this. I buy a box of a dozen truffles ($20) as a Christmas present for my husband. But then I get to thinking. The last time we got chocolates from here, he ate some of mine. So, I figure, I’ll take this box for myself. That way, he’ll no longer need to feel guilty. It’s the least I can do, considering it’s Christmas and all.

Next, we head on over to Santa Rosa to buy some Christmas cookies in a tin. At Sisters Three Artisan Cookies (3181 Cleveland Ave., Ste. C, Santa Rosa; 707.546.8700), their motto is “Our Cookies Are Our Canvas.” They mean it. For example, the sugar cookies are hand-decorated, and it takes about five or six different steps for all the colors and details to be added in. They do end up looking wonderful, and they taste just as good. Plus, the butter and milk come from cows that are not fed growth hormones. And eating the cookies feels so good, and I think that counts for something as far as good health is concerned.

There’s a selection of holiday cookies to choose from ($45-$55 per tin for about a dozen cookies), and it’s tough to pick. Should I get the assortment of gold and silver sparkly reindeers and Christmas trees and presents? Or how about the polar bears, penguins, igloos and snowflakes? The sisters (and, yes, the company actually is run by three sisters) will also make custom cookies. Once again, it seems like company logos are a big hit.

After thinking about it, I decide to get the sugar cookie dogs (a collection of poodles, dachshunds and retrievers decked out in some warm sweaters in holiday colors). This will make a nice present for our two yellow Labs. After all, we need to think of our four-legged friends during the holidays. But, wait. Labs do tend to gain a lot of weight. I better eat these cookies myself.

Next, it’s a quick jaunt to the original Windsor location of Powell’s Sweet Shoppe (720 McClelland Drive, Windsor; 707.836.0808; see sidebar above for other locations) to stock up on supplies for my kids’ Christmas stockings. If I had more time, I’d order a root beer float from the soda fountain and then sit down in one of the theater seats to watch the continuously playing video of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. But I’m on a mission. So I peruse the huge selection of new candies, old-fashioned candies, novelty items and standby favorites. I’m leaning toward the old-school candies: Pop Rocks, Wax Bottles, Razzles and Candy Buttons. That way I can show my kids the kinds of things Mommy use to eat when she was little. It’ll be a bonding experience. I buy the candy, but have second thoughts. This is definitely not good for my children’s teeth. I must protect them. Full of motherly pride, I eat the candy.

Last but not least is Patisserie Angelica (6821 Laguna Park Way, in the Cinema complex, Sebastopol; 707.827.7998). Those who like sweets already know all about Patisserie Angelica. After all, it’s hard not to hear about them. They’ve been written up in the bridal magazines (their specialty is wedding cakes) plus the foodie magazines, and last fall they appeared on TV when one of their cakes was featured in the new show Fantasy Wedding. Pastry chef Condra Easly, Angelica co-owner with her sister Deborah Morris, received her training at several big-name pastry shops in Paris, where, I’m told, everyone takes their sweets as seriously as I do.

I order their special Buche de Noël cake to serve on Christmas Eve ($28 to serve six to eight; $46 for a large to serve 12 to14). It looks like a yule log, complete with little meringue mushrooms and holly. I’ll need to come back just before Christmas to pick it up. Sure, it’s a whole separate trip, but that’s OK. It’s well worth the drive to have this special cake to share with my family.

Sharing–isn’t that what Christmas is all about?

A Few of Our Favorite Things

Some other North Bay chocolatiers perfect for sharing

Annette’s Chocolate Factory Look for chocolate wine and liqueur sauces as well as handy-dandy chocolate discs for everything from noshing to throwing into cookies. 1321 First St., Napa. 707.252.4228.
Chocolat Mysterious, sexy and French–which is how we like our Christmas. 540 San Anselmo Ave., San Anselmo. 415.454.4525.
Heart’s Desire Chocolates A perennial fave in our annual reader’s poll. Y’all can’t be wrong! 101 Golf Course Drive, Rohnert Park. 707.585.7673.
La Dolce V Now in a new and more localized storefront location, this chocolatier serves an otherworldy cocoa, too. 110 N. Main St., Sebastopol. 707.829.2178.
Lyla’s Chocolates Specializes in cute little figurines guaranteed to add charm to the hols. 417 Miller Ave., Mill Valley. 415.383.8887.
Peter Rabbit’s Chocolate Factory Another perennial favorite in our annual readers poll. 2489 Guerneville Road, Santa Rosa. 707.575.7110.
Powell’s Sweet Shoppe has two other North Bay locations with plans to expand to Petaluma and beyond. 879 Grant Ave., Novato, 415.898.6160; and 22 Center St., Healdsburg, 707.431.2784.
Vintage Sweet Shoppe Have your favorite wine bottle dipped in chocolate. 3261 Browns Valley Road, Napa. 707.226.3933.
Woodhouse Chocolates Seasonal figurines and tableaux so ornate and delicate that they can’t be shipped. Given the little blue boxes that coddle the chocolates, this is fairly the Tiffany’s of the mouth. 1367 Main S., St. Helena. 800.966.3468.



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Quick dining snapshots by Bohemian staffers.


Winery news and reviews.


Food-related comings and goings, openings and closings, and other essays for those who love the kitchen and what it produces.


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Odds and Sods

December 13-19, 2006Made in the North Bay: 'Pottery Barn doesn't fit the bill for us," laughs Dione Carston, creative director and buyer for Martin Showroom in St. Helena. "If someone has an interesting personality and is looking for more eccentricity, they come here. This is the place to come for people who don't want someone else to say,...

The Forgotten Art of Audacity

December 13-19, 2006"The minute that U2 is a crap band, we're all out of here. And crap isn't measured by sales or even relevance. It's about the sense of adventure. Is it still there? Are you still blowing your own mind? Are you still growing as a musician and as a songwriter?" --Bono, 1998I'm still kicking myself for missing...

Populist Purchases

December 13-19, 2006Made in the North Bay: Hot Peppers is an appropriate name for a sweet little shop in downtown Sebastopol. The name of the game at this cooperative artisan guild is variety. And variety is what? Yes, it's the spice of life. The shop opened in September 2006 on Main Street, and is a cooperative of about...

Forging Ahead

December 13-19, 2006Made in the North Bay: Stepping into the blacksmith's forge in the heart of San Francisco's SOMA district is like taking a step back in time. A power hammer made in 1910 lumbers imposingly next to the forge itself, which heats metal to 2000 degrees F through a natural-gas fire. Two men are putting the finishing...

Calendar Grrrls

December 13-19, 2006Made in the North Bay: As far as Ann Hancock is concerned, the idea was literally all around her. As president of the Climate Protection Campaign (CPC), a nonprofit based in the western Sonoma County wilds of Graton, Hancock is used to being surrounded by interns and volunteers. But what she noticed last year was that,...

Crazy Christmas Carol

The maddening mystery of Coddingtown's 'Dinosaur Christmas Song'

First Bite

December 13-19, 2006For years, I ate and relished Mark Dierkhising's tasty food when he cooked at the faculty club on the campus of Sonoma State University. I've just started to eat and relish the food he's cooking at Dierk's Parkside Cafe--right in my own neighborhood, and in walking distance of downtown Santa Rosa, too. The place is so new...

Five Actors, 80 Days

December 13-19, 2006 Less is more. In the current climate of American theater, where shows with large casts are becoming a thing of the past due to escalating production costs, we will be seeing more and more shows like I Am My Own Wife and Stones in His Pockets, plays written for one or two actors who play dozens of...

Season of Sharing

Photograph by Rory McNamara Choc a...
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