MISSION POSSIBLE

Dearest Family and Friends

57 Cumberland Street, San Francisco CA 94110
Phone Number: +1 415 738 2112
Skype: nadinemellor

Since our last communication there’s been a political sea change, the weather is a bit more autumnal but still wonderful pretty much every day. We’re feeling more settled here, especially in our new LOVELY apartment, which we’re hugely pleased about.

Our month in Soma was useful – department stores, art galleries, concert halls, shops, swimming pool on the roof and free yoga – but it was definitely time to create our own home and we got very impatient in the run up to the 17th November. Our shipping arrived and that weekend we frantically scrubbed the apartment and unpacked, marvelling at how many clothes we possessed we’d had no need of over the past 3 months – hmmm a lesson for us all there. For the first time in our relationship we went shopping together, particularly appreciative of the Art Deco and Modernist designer ware and furniture here. We did a lot more window shopping than actual purchasing and there is more to buy, but we were delighted with the 1957 desk and 60s Swedish bedside tables. By Tuesday everything was in its rightful place and we had bought a dining table and chairs, kitchen table and chairs so could entertain in time for Thanksgiving phew!

We have great views from the study and sitting room north-west-east to the city and downtown including the top of the Bay Bridge – this picture was taken at 7.30 this morning and is my view all day as I work – at night now it is all glittering lights. Our bedroom and kitchen are at the back with wooden fire escape stairs off the scullery going down into the beautifully kept garden below, although it gets pretty much no direct sunshine so the best sunbathing is outside the kitchen door on the top of the steps, from where we can almost see across the bay to the east. Our neighbours downstairs seem very nice, although in true urban fashion we’ve barely seen them so have invited them over for drinks this weekend.

What is really lovely is that although the houses on a particular street may date from the same time, there are no terraces. Every one is built individually so styles are mostly coherent and similar, but few are the same as their neighbour. Ours was built in 1910 and we have some charming details in the flat.

We are beside Mission Dolores park, a well-known landmark in these parts, between Dolores (noted for its long line of palm trees), which is parallel to Guerrero. We are two blocks from the myriad of restaurants of every stripe and vintage shops on Valencia, in the gentrifying Mission district that borders Noe Valley. Ethnically mixed and colourful, with apparently lots of bars and nightlife - clearly some field research is required... Mission is named after the first Mission settlement in the area, and just up the road is the original adobe church, built 1782, the oldest structure in SF. It is as if we are living on the border of Hackney (but Latino not Afro-Caribbean and Turkish) and Highgate. The more you venture into the heart of Mission colourful murals appear and Spanish is the lingua franca; the more into Noe Valley the ‘Victorians’ have been done up to within an inch of their lives with eight-tone paint jobs and gilt on the edges. As everything in SF is on a grid it really is impossible to get lost. The relentless straight lines are made more interesting by the hilly topography. To the east and north of us, it is flat and low, journeys to the south and west mean a good workout.

Our apartment is perfectly placed near the instant legend Tartine, a bakery and round the corner from Bi-rite (not shoes, but a mini Whole Foods supermarket). The size of the average corner shop this has gourmet groceries, a deli counter, an impressive wine selection, fresh meat and sustainable fish counter, over 100 cheeses, glorious displays of produce all organic and locally sourced, biodegradable bin bags, organic pet food (yes really), you name it. Cheap it isn’t of course. But it is very easy in SF to avoid the Starbucks/Fast Food Nation side to the US. There’s a culture of shopping locally and the vast majority of local shops are individually owned.

I’ve swapped the swimming pool on the roof for the public pool in Mission, which happens to be round the corner: no mean feat in a city where public amenities are generally run down – the curse of too much private enterprise as most people swim in their gyms. It is open air and feels very 70s; there are never more than 4 people swimming at one time.

And signed up for two different yoga centres nearby. The first one I was a little late for and was astonished to hear an organ underscoring the Ohmm chanting as I approached the room; it was a very spiritual class with much concentration on position and being in the now. The other concentrates on Vinyasa Flow in warm temperatures, but not Bikram heat thankfully, so you do sweat a lot but joints really open up, and is a very good workout. This class had tambourines and 10 minutes of Sanskrit chanting to start with.

The San Francisco lifestyle is very appealing – lots of tofu-munching right-on behaviour – the yoga centre has eco-friendly yoga mats for example, in fact there are four local yoga centres within 5 minutes walk as well as Chinese acupuncturist and herbs places, meditation and spiritual centres – only in SF! – with fearsome doorstep recycling initiatives and car pool lanes on the motorways (sorry freeways). So much so that in fact ‘San Francisco values’ played a large part in the recent election.

The Republicans, running scared, tried to whip up support at the last minute (flogging a dead horse, ed) by attacking Nancy Pelosi (now Speaker of Congress) and her ‘far-left’ values saying do we want them leading the culture war? Apparently these values consist of gay marriage, mocking Christianity, taxing the rich, and being an active threat to the ways of Washington. Well given the recent Republican sex scandals it does seem a bit rich for them to be chastising upright SF citizens for moral impropriety! Some have commented that SF values mean an uneasy guilt-ridden relationship with the homeless (it is quite an in your face issue here), while others have quipped Washington values are the real danger to developing minds. It seems it was a direct result of SF values that Bush won the last election as Ohio, a swing state, stayed Republican because they were relentlessly bombarded with information about the recent spate of gay marriages in SF, which the new Democratic Mayor had introduced in order to win the gay vote to beat the Green (the Republican candidate didn’t have a prayer). Anti-Bush slogans and sentiments are everywhere. There’s a campaign to prevent war by riding a bicycle so you don’t consume oil; in Russian River Valley we saw huge anti-Bush placards by the roadside; and there are posters saying peace is patriotic, and others saying if the US stops funding Israel, they’ll stop funding terrorism.

While examining all the sub-cultures that float past, I do stop to wonder if they’ve identified mine as well.

Gig of the Month
The Pet Shop Boys are old troopers nowadays and in truth could probably go on forever on autopilot – one never shows his face and expends minimal energy on stage, and the other doesn’t sing or dance. Simple and effective stage show, and it is extraordinary how one’s brain retains 80s lyrics to the comma. It was my first gig without cigarettes and what a relief, although someone was smoking a joint somewhere in the crowd; amusingly when the lighters-aloft moment arrived, people held up their mobile phones on torch mode instead!

We were in front of a row of chiselled young gay boys who were all exceedingly Tiggerishly excited to be watching such living legends – Colman told me to stop lusting after them as I’m old enough to be their mother – and the drainpipe-trousered post-punk cowboy-hipped swaggering Asians, but the sight of the night were the two Hayseed Homos whose outfits (denim dungarees, beards, hats) only lacked straw as a finishing touch.

Cultural Event of the Month
Sankai Juku are a Japanese butoh group based in France. The performance consisted of mesmeric controlled flowing movements showcasing incredible and delicate muscle strength to vibrant percussive music. Costumes of kimono style long tunics, bodies and shaved heads were dusted cream white all over, deadpan faces would sometimes silently laugh or look horrified. The audience was almost as good as the show – a good sprinkling of outré outfits, an upscale arty eccentric crowd.

Seasonal Event of the Month
Thanksgiving. It’s a big deal here. In fact worth repeating. It’s a big deal. Bet you didn’t know you could have pumpkin lattes, pumpkin ale (on special offer in our local shop) and pumpkin pie martinis. For once the relentless beat of commerce quietened, not stilled completely, but definitely slowed down, as many jaunted off to exotic climes or family gatherings.

Thanksgiving was another beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky all day. We christened our new French Art Deco table with a five course lengthy luncheon with three charming English boys (Rob works with Colman, my friend Luke drove up from LA and brought his friend Pete) – a very satisfactory ratio from my POV. We deliberately went anti-turkey and Colman created a wonderful lamb stew, I made my signature apple & pear crumble and a bean soup for an entrée. By the cheese course, we had run out of toasts and were starting to blither somewhat, which wasn’t surprising given the 6 and a half bottles of wine and half a bottle of port consumed…

Expedition of the Month
The next day, bright and sunny (again!), the five of us set off (slightly more sluggishly than planned) to the redwood hills and picture postcard wineries (renowned for chardonnay and pinot noir) of Russian River Valley, 1.5 hours North of San Francisco. We had booked possibly the cheapest accommodation you could find, a wooden two roomed cabin whose doors didn’t shut properly, in Guerneville (pictured), disturbingly reminiscent of Twin Peaks, dubbed Groinville for the preponderance of hairy bears visiting from SF in summer months.

Sadly we could report few such wildlife sightings but can submit detailed accounts of the various vineyards we strode then shuffled then staggered into as we drove along the Westside Road towards Healdsburg, our dinner destination.

Clean and shiny Healdsburg appeared to be a Christmassy version of the town in the Truman Show. A Christmas band and carol singers topped with Santa hats was playing on every corner; the woman selling her strange looking Boston terrier puppies seemed to dog our every footstep; dazzling parades of boutiques with alluring window displays selling nothing you want in very attractive packages; throngs of happy smiling all-American families crowded the pavements (sorry sidewalks). One turn around the square drove us into the nearest champagne/cocktail bar for respite, where we discovered we had just survived Black Friday – the biggest shopping day of the year.

After dinner, and by now increasingly raucous, banishing our newfound American good manners and reverting to boorish type, we went to a hotel bar where Pete and Colman played the piano together, sometimes in harmony, while I warbled. We looked up to see the other customers had melted away and the bar was closed. Nothing daunted we carried on to be refused entry at the next bar, before getting into the low rent one where Luke’s pool and dancing, and my splits were put to the test and Colman kept asking everybody if he was the drunkest person in the room. The evening still makes me laugh – on the drive home Rob kept a watchful eye on me as I spun the wheel while the others conked out in the back. Upon arrival Luke was convinced we had kidnapped him. He had no idea where he was..

The next morning saw us revisit the diner of the day before but in considerably worse fettle, to the waitress’ enjoyment. Refuelled, we set off for beautiful Armstrong Woods State Park. Two hours of ascent through pristine forests brought us to wonderful views in all directions and soaring skies. Voted best hangover cure. Later that afternoon we drove to Santa Rosa and saw Casino Royale - superb - and apt considering much gadget-speak all weekend. Next morning our final breakfast at the diner got us a 10% frequent flyer discount. Brilliant.

Quote of the Month
US chick: “Have you been to the British countryside?” Colman: “Er, yes, many times.” US chick: “Yes, I’ve been there!”

Hippy Dippy Moment of the Month
We went to see my old friend Seb in Marin County the first Saturday in November (another glorious day) and went walking around a lake and admired the vista, and visited, among other things, the world’s first organic supermarket, still going strong, in Fairfax. Among titles for sale in the newspaper stand was Macrobiotics Today; the noticeboard proclaimed the wonders of yoga against the Iraq war, and invited you to discover your soul through a bewildering variety of ways, means and chanting. Beatific thin bearded old men with faded blue eyes tried to canvas us for our vote outside. We finished our day with a Mexican meal on the outdoor terrace under a full moon.

Restaurant of the Month
Manka’s Inverness Lodge, Inverness, Marin County. Colman took me on a surprise weekend away to Point Reyes Seashore, an hour north of SF, which is not technically part of the continent of N.America as it is the other side of the San Andreas Fault. There’s a ruler straight thin inlet that marks the faultline, and different trees grow either side as the soil is different. The delightful thing about Marin is that you can go walking all day in gorgeous surroundings adjacent to the Pacific (windy it was, especially up at the lighthouse where the trees grow horizontally) with excellent birding to boot, and then every shop, café, diner and restaurant you happen across brims with tasty and wonderful organic dishes just waiting for you to fall onto like locusts. All outlets seem to sign up to the Marin Organic movement, where food is traced to Pete’s potato patch, Annabelle’s pumpkin farm or H Ranch’s beef.

Manka stands out for it’s set menu 5 course dinner party for $58 (!!) for which you show up between 7 & 8. The Lodge is a former hunting lodge with moose heads on the wall, flickering light from the hearth, wood panelled walls, and gay superefficient waiters with not so much as an eyebrow hair out of place. Sort of a cross between a posh Highlands Lodge with a Scene restaurant. We feasted on wild nettle soup (sublime), spinach and cauliflower (part hickory roasted), posh fish and chips (delicately flavoured), beef on pureed carrots (melted in the mouth) followed by pumpkin soufflé (yes it’s the season).

Wine of the Month by Mission Boy
Joseph Swan, Zinfandel
Mancini Ranch, Russian River, 1999
Ah now this is the real Californian thing. Built like a brick shit house. Its seven years old and still throwing punches. Sweet tears pour down the sides of the glass. The wine is nearly perfectly black (meaning it was black when it was originally made). Macerated black fruits and a great deal of volatility climb up your nose. Its almost unbearable and no secondary aromas (expected in a older wine) are yet discernable.

The first sip (no airing) seemed all talk and no trousers. A wall of tannin and hollow fruit. A few minutes in the glass gave a hint of something else however. Red fruits with banana behind on entry, a disjointed passage across the palate ending with a solid tasty sourness.

The next day the wine was a much friendlier and though still ballsy animal. The volatily has blown off and the tannins softened creating a smoother mouthfeel. 24 hours of air lets a wine like this show what it is capable of, and what more time in the cellar would offer.

Truly lovely and truly Californian, though some would say that this drink will kill any food it is served with. One for the fireside perhaps.

Bird of the Month
Four inch Anna’s Hummingbird calypte anna zips around like shiny green flying beetles on speed. I can hear them making sonar like sounds - szip stit - outside the apartment all day, and we saw them whirring past us and hovering in the air like jewelled moths in Russian River too, while thinking of the two Annas who were absent that weekend (Bolt and Gardener), and much missed.

Bumper Sticker of the Month
I Never Thought I’d Miss Nixon

Missing you all very much – come and visit!
Love and hugs Nadine and Colman xxx