July 19: Zoe Keating at Napa Valley Opera House

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You know that popular joke about Stephenie Meyer slamming her head on her computer keyboard and producing the Twilight novels? Well, Zoë Keating can make better music by putting her feet on her keyboard while playing the cello. And that’s no joke. Fans have built a cult following around one-woman-orchestra Keating, who’s created an enterprise from live shows and self-released albums. She’s performed and recorded with Imogen Heap, Amanda Palmer, Tears for Fears and John Vanderslice, to name but a few, and her grassroots practices have led her to speak regularly on artist-empowerment. Set the weekend off right when Keating performs on Friday, July 19, at the Napa Valley Opera House. 1030 Main St., Napa. $25—$30. 8pm. 707.226.7372.

Sonoma Media Investments and Magazines

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Rumor has it Sonoma Media Investments, owners of the Press Democrat, North Bay Business Journal, the Petaluma Argus, the Sonoma Index Tribune and other associated publications hired a new person to take over the magazine offerings. The publication company currently offers Home and Garden, Sonoma and Santa Rosa magazines among others.

In other SMI and magazine related news, owners of the investment company Stave Falk, Doug Bosco and Darius Anderson spoke at an event put on by North Bay Biz magazine (which is, incidentally, a direct competitor of the North Bay Business Journal) on the future of newspapers. With the new interest brewing in the magazine department, could this be the beginning of another partnership with a local publication by SMI? Only time will tell.

Bohemia’s Gate

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Oh, what a difference one word makes. For more than 30 years, the Bohemian Grove Action Network has disseminated information about the summer meeting of the political and financial elite of the world. They’ve also held protests at the gates of the yearly gathering, with a hiatus here and there. But the name has been hijacked, says longtime activist Mary Moore.

A group that called themselves the Bohemian Grove Action and Resistance Network was at the gates of the Bohemian Grove this year, handing out flyers on so-called smart grids and Google technology. Sean Ackley, a Republican from Brentwood who helped the original protesters set up a Facebook page, led the small gathering.

“I had reservations from the start because [Ackley] did not hide the fact that he is an Alex Jones supporter,” Moore says, referring to the conspiracy theorist who snuck into the Grove (with Moore’s help, “against my better judgment,” she admits) in 2000 and came out with stories of satanic ritual and human sacrifice. Ackley ended up making himself an official administrator of the Facebook page, adding “Resistance” to the name and taking over the operations.

Moore says that while “anyone has the right to protest,” they do not have the right to “appropriate the name we’ve had for 33 years,” and thus confuse the public. The Bohemian Grove Action Network has enlisted the help of a local attorney to help them trademark the name; they can then send a cease-and-desist letter to the Ackley-led group.

“I hate the idea that we have to do this kind of establishment move,” says Moore of the trademarking and legal process. (On July 12, the Facebook page name was changed to “Resist the Grove—Bohemian Grove Action and Resistance.”)

An emergency meeting on July 11 resulted in a collective decision to refocus Bohemian Grove Action Network efforts on research and education rather than direct action, such as protesting outside the gates of Bohemian Grove, for now. For example, two members have started to look at how many high-level energy officials involved with fracking belong to the Bohemian Club.

Moore, 78, started the Bohemian Grove Action Network in 1980, and in recent years has expressed repeated desires to step down as the face of the protests, urging younger people to take over.

“We’re going to be focusing more on education and research than on the annual protests, because we don’t want to fight with these Tea Party people,” Moore says, recalling actions by Doug Millar, another conspiracy theorist, to confuse the proceedings in 2012.

At this point, the Facebook page issue has become “almost irrelevant,” Moore says, with the group refocusing on its longstanding goal of exposing the nature of the Bohemian Club and its inner workings as a backroom setting for elite collusion, rather than closing the place down.

“No matter what the issue is that you are concerned with, somebody is making a profit from it,” Moore says, “and there’s a good chance that they are in the Bohemian Club.”

Life Is a Cabaret

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Scouring the internet for a place I can really be myself is a lonely venture. But what’s this? Not one, but two sexy cabaret shows in . . . Marin County? Finally, a place where catcalls and fedoras are not only allowed, but encouraged! It’s my time to shine!

Starting this week, Séduction Féroce Deux cabaret comes to George’s in San Rafael on a monthly basis, complete with standup comedy, vaudeville acts, interactive games and, of course, burlesque dancing. Host Jamie DeWolf is the creator of the monthly Oakland variety show Tourettes Without Regrets (and subject of a recent Bohemian cover story); his slam poetry and other talents underscore an approach of holding nothing back. Burlesque is sexy mostly because at least some clothing is kept on, but we’re guessing nothing will be out of bounds.

At Sweetwater in Mill Valley, Vaud & the Villains brings a 19-piece 1930s New Orleans orchestra and cabaret show for a one-night-only performance on July 20. The horn section alone is worth the price of admission, and a full-stage, sexed-up performance is just the icing on top—or is that whipped cream?

Séduction Féroce Deux hits the stage Thursday, July 18, at George’s Nightclub, 842 Fourth St., San Rafael. 6pm. $10. 877.568.2726. Vaud & the Villains play Saturday, July 20 at Sweetwater Music Hall, 19 Corte Madera Ave., Mill Valley. 9pm. $22. 415.388.3850.

Lord of the Ring

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Known as “the Art of Eight Limbs,” Muay Thai is an ancient Thai combat sport that’s seen a huge growth in popularity in the United States over the past few years, and a new, locally produced documentary explores one man’s journey to learn the art of the fight.

Directed by Mer Aldao, Win. Lose. Forgive. is produced by Kurt Hoffman, a student of Phas3 Martial Arts owner Ben Brown, whose work to become a Muay Thai trainer, under the tutelage of champion fighter Jongsanan “Woodenman” from the El Niño Mixed Martial Arts Training Center in San Francisco, forms the core of the 27-minute documentary.

Win. Lose. Forgive. offers a glimpse into the heart of Muay Thai, as much a spiritual discipline as a sport, in which the hands, feet, elbows and knees are used to brutal effect. “Muay Thai is an open art,” Jongsanan says, one in which it’s important to listen first, and “don’t question-mark yourself at all.”

One of the film’s most powerful moments arrives when Brown tells of the first time he trained with Monlit Sitpohdaeng, voted Thailand’s top Muay Thai trainer in 2010, and how excited he was to show off his skills to the master. Instead, Brown receives a swift lesson in humility when Sitpohdaeng parks him in front of a mirror for an hour after pointing out everything he’s doing incorrectly.

“Finally, I figured it out,” Brown recounts for camera in his earnest, urgent manner. “Who the hell am I to come in here and show him how good I’ve gotten? I’m gonna come in here and show him how great I am? There’s no great. I don’t know anything.”

It’s just one of the many lessons learned in a film loaded with musings on fighting, discipline and the beginner’s mind and life.

‘Win. Lose. Forgive.’ premieres on Saturday, July 20 at Third Street Cinemas. 620 Third St., Santa Rosa. 5:30pm. $5. www.winloseforgive.com.

Falling Star

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Efren Carrillo was sworn in as a county supervisor at the bright young age of 27, a promising political career ahead of him, smiling and shaking hands, never imagining that he would ever be arrested in his underwear and socks after trying to break into a woman’s bedroom at 3:40 in the morning.

Leaders cheered him. Colleagues liked him. Supporters funded him—boy, did they fund him. All of them repeated the same phrases: “rising star,” “career politician,” “promising future,” never imagining that he would ever be arrested in his underwear and socks after trying to break into a woman’s bedroom at 3:40 in the morning.

There was the incident in San Diego last year, where Carrillo knocked a guy unconscious outside a Too Short show. Carrillo evaded the press, answering no calls from reporters. Instead, he answered calls from his political mentor Doug Bosco, who knows scandal all too well. Carrillo left for Russia, with plans for damage control, and certainly not with plans for being arrested in his underwear and socks after trying to break into a woman’s bedroom at 3:40 in the morning.

The excuse came: Carrillo was defending women from harassment. The charges were dropped. The man knocked unconscious, Jovan Will, would conspicuously not tell his side of the story to the press, and Carrillo came out a hero instead of a bully. Surely, he would never be arrested in his underwear and socks after trying to break into a woman’s bedroom at 3:40 in the morning.

But these are the facts: early Saturday morning, Carrillo was arrested in his underwear and socks after trying to break into a woman’s bedroom at 3:40 in the morning. Police say they believe his intent was sexual assault.

There is a spin machine at work, even as you read these words, trying to obfuscate the events of that night. Carrillo’s lawyer insists the supervisor meant no harm, because he later introduced himself to the woman at her door as a neighbor, before running away. Carrillo, predictably, cited a problem with alcohol and checked into rehab. Doug Bosco went so far as to call it a tragedy for Carrillo himself, saying, in the Press Democrat, “I think the people who are close to Efren and like and respect him are focusing more on the tragedy that it is for him to have made this mistake.”

Doug Bosco, who is a principal owner in the Press Democrat and who had raised a substantial amount of campaign funds for Carrillo, might want to consider what it is like to be a woman sleeping while a man rips the screen, opens the window and starts rustling the blinds at 3:40 in the morning, as police say Carrillo did. He might advise Carrillo, this time around, to apologize to his victim instead of his supporters.

Instead, Carrillo issued a virtually empty emailed statement: “I realize that my behavior was embarrassing.”

Maybe 27 was too young for Carrillo to get into politics. Maybe one’s 20s are supposed to be a little more fun than sitting on committees and going to water agency meetings. Maybe Carrillo grew up too fast, put on a game face and bottled up too much of that youth. Maybe it kept bottled up for so long that it fermented, and mutated, and next thing he knew, he was being arrested in his underwear and socks after trying to break into a woman’s bedroom at 3:40 in the morning.

SL Cellars & Muscardini Cellars

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The lure that brought me shambling back into this familiar old Kenwood wine shack was the big banner that all but shouts “Champagne!” You can see it from a mile away. I don’t mean the sign. I mean the un-flippin’-believably informative lecture that I, as a writer of topics vinous, now feel impelled to deliver about how one mustn’t call sparkling wine “champagne” that doesn’t originate from Champagne, France, because of the history and the terroir and international law and this, that and the other—and by the way, did you know that “Hearty” is not a commune of Burgundy?—unless it’s Korbel, in which case, pop that California Champagne and drown some domestic Brie on French bread with it.

One explanation of how SL Cellars avoids the ire of the Brussels enforcers is that these wine and spirits veterans simply imported some champers from Dizy, France. It rests on a shelf; ergo, here’s Champagne on hand (the resourceful founder and namesake of Simon Levi Company, an immigrant who founded a wholesale mercantile empire in 19th-century Southern California, might have been proud). Another explanation is, who cares?

Certainly not the mostly young fans of NV Framboise Sparkling Wine ($24), who will find its sweet, foamy palate and aroma an easy graduation from raspberry Crystal Geyser. The NV Almondine Pour La Vie ($24) could be the perfect foil for an almond Danish. Also made by Charmat method, not méthode champenoise—which is also now absolut verboten to say, mon frère—the Grand Cuvée ($24) is somewhat yeasty, dignified and comparatively dry.

The latest tenant to share Simon Levi’s flophouse for itinerant vintners—following Smothers Brothers, Tandem and many others—Michael Muscardini Cellars complements his landlord’s sparklers with super-Tuscan-style reds, and the soft yet zippy, planter-box-floral 2012 Sole Del Mattino Sonoma Valley Pinot Grigio ($24). The 2010 Monte Rosso Sangiovese ($36) is upfront with spicy red cherry fruit, while the 2010 Monte Rosso Vineyard Zinfandel ($42) plays it typical at first whiff, then tips off the palate to this vineyard’s “grand cru” status with layers of alluring pomegranate, olallieberry and dark liqueur flavors.

There’s barrel tasting of the young 2012 Syrah just to the right of the bar, which is circled by the old model train. The joint is sparkling clean, packed with novelty art and Krave jerky nibbles. The staff is friendly, there are Baby Bells and Pinot Grigio in the cold case, and there’s also live music on Fridays. For unexplained reasons, a gumball machine dispenses used corks—a feature that no one but some kind of Euro-existentialist would find disturbing.

SL Cellars, 9380 Sonoma Hwy., Kenwood. Daily, 11am–6pm. Tasting fee, $10. 707.833.5070.

A Sense of Balance

Was that a little motorcycle whizzing past my head? The loud buzz seems like it’s coming from inside my eardrum, but instinctively I pause and turn my head to follow the sound, where I’m half-expecting to see the Great Gazoo in his little flying saucer giving me a raspberry. Luckily for my companions and me, there’s no little alien playing mind tricks, just a swath of large dragonflies, all different colors. Seemingly coming from nowhere, dozens of these stranger-than-fiction creatures are now hovering, darting and fornicating all around us.

Surrounded by manzanita trees, wildflowers, blue sky and fragrant bay trees and sage bushes, the serenity of the scene fills me with awe. My eyes get big and a little watery as the splendor of nature overwhelms my senses up here in Sugarloaf. But when I pick up my feet to move along the trail, the serotonin in my brain turns to lactic acid in my thighs, and I’m pushed off the ethereal plain back to reality.

During the 3.5-mile, 1,500-foot-elevation hike to Bald Mountain in Sugarloaf Ridge State Park, the park can feel like a different world, a thousand miles from everywhere. But it’s just half an hour from Santa Rosa—a little off the beaten path, is all. No wonder it’s sometimes forgotten.

“It’s a well-kept secret,” says volunteer docent Bill Myers, leading my trek through heaven and hell. “It’s one of the coolest parks around.”

A few days later, I’m tackling rugged terrain and crossing shallow creeks in a tricked-out electric golf cart with park manager John Roney, who stops to say hello to each visitor he sees. After passing huge thickets of blackberry, which line the trails with fruit ready to be picked, we come to a stop at an overlook with what appear to be remnants of a brick foundation.

Roney explains that this is the former site of the cookhouse for the Sonoma Developmental Center’s campers in the 1940s. Before Sugarloaf became a state park in 1964, it was used by the center for camping, picnicking and scouting. It was originally purchased by the state in 1920 to dam Sonoma Creek as a water supply for Sonoma State Hospital, but after local landowners voiced their opposition, those plans were canceled.

It’s plain to see why locals wouldn’t want to change a thing about this place. The serenity of birds calling to each other, wind rustling through the trees and clouds gently flowing overhead makes me want to get out and walk the rest of the way, but the two-mile trip would probably keep Roney away from the visitors center too long. When he’s not in, the gift shop and nature center are closed. There’s also no one else to answer questions like “Which hike should I take?” (“Well, how much energy and time do you have?”) or “Is there cell phone reception in the park?” (“What service do you have? Sometimes you can get an AT&T signal on some of the trails.”) He’s the go-to guy, always happy to help out.

It might seem strange that just one person handles all these duties, but then again, it might also seem strange that our state parks, such natural places of refuge, continually face funding shortfalls, budget cuts and threats of closure.

Luckily for Sugarloaf, some dedicated fans are doing something about it.

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Along with fellow volunteer docent Dave Chalk, Bill Meyers started leading hikes through the park 13 years ago. They now run Bill and Dave’s Hikes, which leads trips in Sugarloaf, San Francisco, Yosemite, Kunde Vineyards and other locations. The hikes became so popular that one year, for a hike on the Fourth of July, 212 hikers showed up. This year, the number was a more reasonable 80 or so, and the $50 per-person fee went straight to funding operations of the park, making the annual hike one of the park’s biggest fundraisers.

And it needs the support. The 3,900-acre park closed in 2012 when California announced it couldn’t afford to keep it and 69 other state parks open. Public upheaval spread about shuttering Santa Rosa’s Annadel and Sonoma’s Jack London parks, but immense popularity and historical value saved those two. Less noise was made for Sugarloaf Ridge, however, which is something of a forgotten middle child of the “big three.”

Still, this stunning park has a large support base of visitors, and within half a year, volunteers had the park open and running as smoothly as it ever did under state control. Ultimately, 65 of the 70 state parks slated for closure were kept open or reopened, but Sugarloaf’s story is particularly heartwarming.

Team Sugarloaf is a consortium of five nonprofit groups that have banded together to run the park. The Sonoma Ecology Center is the lead group, negotiating with the state and overseeing general park management; the Valley of the Moon Observatory Association operates the Robert Ferguson Observatory; United Camps, Conferences and Retreats operates the campground facilities; Valley of the Moon Natural History Association operates the visitor’s center and helps with volunteers; and the Sonoma County Trails Council maintains the park’s 25 miles of hiking, biking and horseback riding trails.

“We all put our strengths together and our ideas together to manage a park,” says Richard Dale, executive director of the Sonoma Ecology Center.

It takes about $285,000 annually to keep the park open, almost $50,000 less than it cost the state in 2011. Most of the money comes from campground fees, but Dale says at least $25,000 in fundraising is needed each year to make up the difference. So far, public support has been strong, and the state has been helpful. “They’ve been bending over backwards” to work with Team Sugarloaf, says Dale, allowing events like docent-led fundraising hikes and a Friday-night summer concert series to take place in the park’s amphitheater.

The concerts have drawn around a hundred people to the park each Friday, but the monthly stargazing nights at the Robert Ferguson Observatory routinely see 200 attendees staring at the sky, away from city lights, through one of the three high-powered telescopes at the observatory. One, nicknamed a “lightbucket,” was built by one of the park’s docents almost 20 years ago and uses a 24-inch reflector to gather light and condense it into an eyepiece, which is reached via ladder at the top of the scope. “The bigger the mirror, the more faint the objects you can see,” explains volunteer observatory docent and amateur astronomer Dickson Yeager.

The observatory also hosts solar-viewing parties—but not using the lightbucket. “If you looked at the sun through that,” says Yeager, “your head would catch on fire. I mean literally, it would catch on fire.”

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“Yeah,” agrees fellow volunteer observatory docent Jim DeManche. “Have you seen those survival shows where they take a parabolic mirror and put a cup of water [under it] and it boils it? That’s your brain.”

The solar viewing, he explains, is done with a smaller telescope that can take photos of distant galaxies. It uses a computer program to clean up and filter images, allowing viewers to safely see an image of the sun’s surface, with sunspots and even solar flares sometimes visible.

Together with the iconic telescope here in the big white dome, this trio of telescopes and collection of dedicated and knowledgeable volunteers make the observatory a standout of the park system. “This [observatory] is most accessible and most active,” says DeManche, noting that Santa Rosa Junior College, Sonoma State University and Pepperwood Preserve also have observatories.

The observatory is popular, and even more so during a meteor shower. (DeManche points out that there will be a shower during the next public viewing night, on Aug. 10.) “The thing is, this was all done without public funds,” says Yeager. “It was literally all done by the docent community.”

As of now, Team Sugarloaf wouldn’t mind running the park past its five-year contract with the state. It draws in volunteers and keeps the future of the park separate from the state’s funding woes, says Dale. Having the state “find” almost $60 million in missing funds, $20 million of which was designated for state parks, doesn’t encourage public trust. But Dale doesn’t think government shouldn’t be involved. “I firmly believe the state needs to be the owner of the land, resources, cultural objects,” he says. “We need to have that kind of public trust of ownership.”

If things keep going as well as they have in Team Sugarloaf’s first year, it might become a model for other parks. “I’m not hearing about anything else like this,” says Dale, “where state parks are closing and people are stepping up.”

Yeager, who was a docent even before Team Sugarloaf came to be, says the funding crisis has brought a new sense of ownership to the park’s volunteers.

“This place is just so much more alive than when the state was running it,” he says. “It’s incredible.”

LOCAL STATE PARKS OPERATED BY OUTSIDE ORGANIZATIONS AND VOLUNTEERS

Annadel Taken over by Sonoma County Regional Parks in 2012, returned to state control July 1, 2013

Jack London Run by Jack London Park Partners through 2017

Sugarloaf Ridge Run by Team Sugarloaf through 2017

Austin Creek Run by Stewards of the Coast and Redwoods

Bothe-Napa Valley Run by Napa County Regional Park and Open Space District

24-Hour Mania!

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Keith Garriott walked to the center of the stage, assumed a half-squat, tilted his guitar skyward and let loose on a lightning-fast solo. Artemis, in red leather hot pants and lace, stood up from her chair and mangled her cello’s strings while yelling along. While Alex Kouninos laid down the bass and Matthew Wilson played ukulele, singer Jeremy McCarten drew out a final “Come ahhhn!” with his head tilted back. Behind the kit, Devon Rumrill thundered out a massive drum roll and clobbered the cymbals, bringing the whole thing to a crashing halt.

In that glorious finale, who would have believed the band had only been together for 24 hours? Up went the judges scores, all 9s and 10s, and with that, a new champion of the Bohemian‘s 24-Hour Band Contest was crowned.

That was just one of the many high points in the packed Arlene Francis Center last Saturday night, as we carried on last year’s crazy idea—to assemble musicians into random bands with other strangers and force them to write two original songs and learn one cover song in just one day. Each performance was like opening a living, breathing Christmas present. A trombone-fueled version of “Psycho Killer.” A Spanish-English hybrid of “Rebel Yell,” complete with hubcap percussion. A “Taxman” sing-along. Hell, the energy was so high that at the end of the night, people started breakdancing. Ultimately, the panel of judges—comprising Bill Bowker, Leilani Clark, Heather Irwin, Steve Jaxon and Jacquelynne Ocaña—chose the band cheekily calling themselves Wonder Wench as most worthy of top honors.

Making their success even more special was the fact that McCarten, in hospital scrubs, was called in to work at the emergency room the night before; he’d missed five hours of rehearsal. (The “special circumstances” award, though, goes to bassist Huck Reason, from a different band, whose five-day-old daughter Nyah Willow watched from the crowd, wrapped in blankets and held by her mother.)

Not to be outdone, our ninth annual NorBay Awards conferred plenty of honors throughout the night, too. Your voting made it happen—we had 1,047 preliminary write-in voters, and 3,411 finalist voters! Gold record awards were given, speeches both touching and funny delivered, and our commitment to supporting and cultivating local music was strengthened yet again.

The award was especially timely for Lester Chambers, winner in the Blues / R&B category. In accepting the award on behalf of his father, Chambers’ son Dylan explained that Lester had been assaulted onstage by a woman earlier that same day at the Hayward-Russell City Blues Festival after dedicating “People Get Ready” to Trayvon Martin. (Video later released showed Dinalynn Andrews Potter climbing onstage, shoving the 73-year-old Chambers to the ground; she was arrested for battery, and Chambers was taken to the hospital.) “I can’t tell you how proud he’ll be having this,” Dylan said, clutching the award. “He works very, very hard at what he does.”

Without further ado, the winners of the 2013 NorBays:

Blues / R&B: Lester Chambers

Country / Americana: Frankie Boots & the County Line

DJ: DJ Lazyboy

Folk / Acoustic: Foxes in the Henhouse

Indie: Grace in the Woods

Jazz: The Gypsy Trio

Hip-Hop / Electronic: Smoov-E

Punk / Metal: Boo Radley’s House

Rock: Highway Poets

World / Reggae: Midnight Sun

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Burning Token Media was on the scene to document the 24-Hour Band Contest—the choosing of the bands on Friday, the rehearsals on Saturday, and of course, the mighty performances.

Watch the results in playlist form here, or see individual performances below.

Band #1: PSYCHO SANDWICH!

Band #2: WONDER WENCH!

Band #3: FIVE BRIDGES!

Band #4: ROSE!

Band #5: GROUP THERAPY!

And… who won? See below:

Butter Heaven

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And so it was revealed to us that a new restaurant had opened in Healdsburg, but Leon and I had not yet dined there. Skipping such niceties as reservations, Leon donned his new silk and linen togs, I dusted off my “good” flip-flops, and into the car we went, headed north for an early meal.

Our destination was Chalkboard, the latest incarnation of the space that once reverently held Cyrus, in the Hotel Les Mars.

Cyrus, where the staff was hushed and the tables clothed. Cyrus, where the kitchen staff did gently spy on guests as their meals progressed, the better to prepare the next course. Cyrus, where there would never be a dirt-filled plant on a bare four-top or a community table or a merciless fruit fly . . .

To the very good Chalkboard where milk fat regularly moistens cheeks and lips and tongues and laps. Where we learned that gigli is not only a terrible Ben Affleck/J. Lo vehicle, but also a lily-shaped pasta that this kitchen likes to brighten with saffron. Chalkboard, where gnudi is not a spangled suit worn onstage by such deceased chaps as country star Porter Wagoner, but rather ravioli that’s lost its coat. Where radishes are stuffed with homemade butter, baby carrots are to be dredged through a wonderful concoction known as “leek dip,” and where dark rye bread crumbs are crushed into “soil.” Where puny dietary vows die softly and the steak comes wrapped with bacon.

To Chalkboard, where they tried to seat the reservationless in the back, in a corner by the kitchen. But the room was empty at 5pm on a Thursday evening, and we wanted to be by the bright summer windows and sip a Hendrick’s and tonic ($10), which you can damn well bet we did.

Listening to a recording of this meal—which I did so that you never, ever think of doing this yourself (the pop of your lips greased and floppy, your awful timbre escalating with wine . . . )—I hear our sober delight as we settle in by the windows, order our drinks and immediately request a tray of crab tater tots ($9) and that veggie plate ($8) which would reveal the butter-stuffed and the leek-dipped nestled amid rye soil with a side of duck-fat-fried frites. (I shudder to learn that I evidently chanted “butter-stuffed-radishes” in a cheerleader’s rah, but a cheerleader would never have eaten them.)

Chalkboard is a small-plate place with nothing priced over $17, as chef Shane McAnelly’s invitation to indulge. We didn’t need the invite, ordering the fresh corn ($7) immediately upon spying it as a special. Roasted on the cob, the kernels are sheared off and married in a bowl with cilantro, feta and a chipotle crema that is washed with a squeeze of roasted lime. The server invited us to mix it up. Mix it we did.

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We gobbled three plates before even deciding upon our main meal or wine. (The tater tots—formed into cubes, fried and topped with crème fraîche, chives and fresh crab lumps—were greedily consumed but needn’t be mentioned again.) We duly perused, learning that many of the veggies come from the restaurant’s dedicated three-acre patch situated on the Chalk Hill Estate Vineyards.

Perhaps it was the Hendrick’s, but Leon promptly lost all geographic bearings, wondering aloud how they could serve fresh seafood so far inland. While the man has actually heard tales of air travel, a different type fortunately distracted him, as a single, manic Drosophila chose our human forms for repeated personal inspection. Doing his best Obama, Leon felled him in a swoop.

Talking with my mouth grossly smacking full, I settled upon the wild nettle and ricotta gnudi ($12), followed by the plate of buttermilk-fried quail ($15) that Leon had rejected as being too “tedious” to eat. I chose a glass of the ballsy (yes, it appears that I later amused myself by using that descriptor to the poor server) Chalk Hill Chardonnay ($12), while Leon opted for the gigli with crab and zucchini ($15) and the local king salmon ($15) with a glass of Fruilano ($8) to start.

Momentarily not eating, we surveyed the room, opened up and simplified since Cyrus, replete with the de rigueur community table, handsome wood chairs and small potted succulents on each table. More guests arrived, the servers were swift and graceful, the place quickly hummed.

My gnudi was vibrantly green, larded with maitake mushrooms, and swimming in a sauce that could only be described as butter. Truffle butter, all the better. Leon’s gigli were crocus-yellow and ethereal with a slight heat from calabrian chiles. The wine, as has been noted, was ballsy.

I am pleased to report that we discussed abstract painting and the death of print journalism but soon moved shamefully on to kitchen products and why that friend we don’t like didn’t invite us to her party.

With our next course came two glasses of Bluxome Street Pinot Noir ($12) recommended by our server and just right for my emphatically nontedious quail, dressed as it was with nasturtium greens, and Leon’s perfectly prepared three ounces of salmon. (He no longer wondered how it had made its way from the sea.)

We mellowed, we flushed, my voice growing louder in inverse proportion to the excellence of my jokes.

Of course we’d like dessert! Good God, man. We soon spooned up the creamy cold goodness of a salted balsamic vinegar and caramel gelato ($6). Over two hours had passed, and we knew Chalkboard.

We forgave the friend we don’t like, we settled upon the kitchen items to buy, we didn’t say another word about painting or papers. We took a long walk around the evening-stained streets and into the car we went, headed south for an early night home.

We’ll soon go north to that spot again.

Chalkboard, 29 North St., Healdsburg. Open daily for dinner; lunch, Friday–Sunday. 707.473.8030.

July 19: Zoe Keating at Napa Valley Opera House

You know that popular joke about Stephenie Meyer slamming her head on her computer keyboard and producing the Twilight novels? Well, Zoë Keating can make better music by putting her feet on her keyboard while playing the cello. And that’s no joke. Fans have built a cult following around one-woman-orchestra Keating, who’s created an enterprise from live shows and...

Sonoma Media Investments and Magazines

Rumor has it Sonoma Media Investments, owners of the Press Democrat, North Bay Business Journal, the Petaluma Argus, the Sonoma Index Tribune and other associated publications hired a new person to take over the magazine offerings. The publication company currently offers Home and Garden, Sonoma and Santa Rosa magazines among others. In other SMI and magazine related news, owners of...

Bohemia’s Gate

Oh, what a difference one word makes. For more than 30 years, the Bohemian Grove Action Network has disseminated information about the summer meeting of the political and financial elite of the world. They've also held protests at the gates of the yearly gathering, with a hiatus here and there. But the name has been hijacked, says longtime activist...

Life Is a Cabaret

Scouring the internet for a place I can really be myself is a lonely venture. But what's this? Not one, but two sexy cabaret shows in . . . Marin County? Finally, a place where catcalls and fedoras are not only allowed, but encouraged! It's my time to shine! Starting this week, Séduction Féroce Deux cabaret comes to George's in...

Lord of the Ring

Known as "the Art of Eight Limbs," Muay Thai is an ancient Thai combat sport that's seen a huge growth in popularity in the United States over the past few years, and a new, locally produced documentary explores one man's journey to learn the art of the fight. Directed by Mer Aldao, Win. Lose. Forgive. is produced by Kurt Hoffman,...

Falling Star

Efren Carrillo was sworn in as a county supervisor at the bright young age of 27, a promising political career ahead of him, smiling and shaking hands, never imagining that he would ever be arrested in his underwear and socks after trying to break into a woman's bedroom at 3:40 in the morning. Leaders cheered him. Colleagues liked him. Supporters...

SL Cellars & Muscardini Cellars

The lure that brought me shambling back into this familiar old Kenwood wine shack was the big banner that all but shouts "Champagne!" You can see it from a mile away. I don't mean the sign. I mean the un-flippin'-believably informative lecture that I, as a writer of topics vinous, now feel impelled to deliver about how one mustn't...

A Sense of Balance

Was that a little motorcycle whizzing past my head? The loud buzz seems like it's coming from inside my eardrum, but instinctively I pause and turn my head to follow the sound, where I'm half-expecting to see the Great Gazoo in his little flying saucer giving me a raspberry. Luckily for my companions and me, there's no little alien...

24-Hour Mania!

Keith Garriott walked to the center of the stage, assumed a half-squat, tilted his guitar skyward and let loose on a lightning-fast solo. Artemis, in red leather hot pants and lace, stood up from her chair and mangled her cello's strings while yelling along. While Alex Kouninos laid down the bass and Matthew Wilson played ukulele, singer Jeremy McCarten...

Butter Heaven

And so it was revealed to us that a new restaurant had opened in Healdsburg, but Leon and I had not yet dined there. Skipping such niceties as reservations, Leon donned his new silk and linen togs, I dusted off my "good" flip-flops, and into the car we went, headed north for an early meal. Our destination was Chalkboard, the...
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