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| The Stonehouse Restaurant |
Sometimes you discover a location so enchanting
and riveting that all you think about when you leave is how to get back there
again. Exactly one year ago we visited San Ysidro Ranch for the first time. We
were enthralled by the gardens and charmed by the tasteful cottages. Lunch on
the terrace at the Stonehouse Restaurant was delicious, romantic and without a
false note.
The intervening year has been traumatic in more ways than one. Looking back on the year in December, a friend remarked that all the good things that had happened to me in 2013 had actually happened to my children. It was a wise and thoughtful comment. Lana got married, Lucy got a fabulous job at Facebook. Allie excelled in her career. All good.
The gyrations of moving and not moving, selling and not selling the house were exhausting. Innumerable stressors, known and unknown, were taking a toll on our relationship. Still in that mindset, we took a trip to Palm Springs in February. The final few days were to be in LA slash Santa Barbara with a belated Valentines Day dinner at the Ranch. Plans changed and that portion of the trip was deleted.
Still hankering for a dose of Santa Barbara, we decided to try again with a June mini-break. Although Montecito is a most dog friendly town, we left Ruby home with Lana. It was her first time without Eric or me and she went on a mini hunger strike. It upset Lana that Ruby would barely eat, but that’s just how dogs are. Anyway, she can stand to lose half a pound.
We started driving down and I was kind of shocked when I realized we were driving six hours for a two night get-away. I'd been thinking it was more like a four-hour drive. My grasp of geography has always been suspect. Basically, we were traveling 345 miles for dinner. No pressure there.
Sometimes its good to be trapped in a car for hours and hours with the one you love. You talk about things you need to discuss and there is no escape. By Woodside we were pretty much talked out and the atmosphere changed. It lifted and lightened. Lunch in Paso Robles was excellent. At least I thought so until I spent much of that night in the hotel bathroom with imploding intestines. Now that's romantic!
Gastric catastrophes aside, it WAS very romantic. It was a short walk to the beach from our hotel in Montecito. The water temperature was perfect for swimming. No wetsuit required. The ocean is incredibly therapeutic. Saltwater will cure whatever ails you in mind or body. It makes my skin feel so good.
I had a huge Planter's wart when I was a young teen. It was so painful I could barely walk. It was going to be removed when I visited my father on Long Island. A few days of saltwater and the wart was completely cured. We hoped the ocean would cure Eric's 100-day cough, but it didn't. It cured the rest of him. I hadn't seen him so relaxed in years.
My fingernails were a mess so I wandered down the street in Montecito Village for a manicure. I was shocked when they told me the price. Twenty-five dollars for a simple manicure. You might be wondering what they charge for pedicures. Forty-five. So for a mere seventy bucks, before tip, you can leave feeling pretty good. Ridiculous.
The night before we'd gotten ice cream and three tiny scoops were over nine dollars. And I thought we lived in an expensive area. Montecito really has to get over it. Unless you can control the moon and the stars and command the sun to break through the fog, you're just another place.
We were prepared for sticker shock when we arrived for dinner at The Stonehouse. You're paying for the experience and location and the food is very proud of itself as well. The bamboo-covered terrace, with hurricane lamps and sparkly lights, overlooking the property and hillside, was sensational. Eric opened the wine list and gulped. Edna Valley Cabernet started at $280 a bottle. I peeked at the menu. Risotto, at $46, was the least expensive item. Talk about eating (and drinking) above our station!
There is a certain gentle, twinkly sound at high-end restaurants. The Stonehouse was no different. The conversations were interesting in the way only an LA area restaurant can be interesting. The patrons were as eclectic as expected. The gay couple behind us was riveting. One of them had a British accent and a serious stutter.
It was hard not to overhear their conversation, not that we tried. Eric and I love to eavesdrop at restaurants. Allie and I do the same thing. Afterwards we let our imaginations run wild and make up stories about them. At one point the man behind us asked the waitress about a guy called Warner. I had no idea who he was, but he sounded important.
On the drive home the next day I put the google on the ranch. It turns out Warner is the owner. Ty Warner. Ty as in Beanie Babies! The man has 2.6 billion dollars because of Beanie Babies! Lord knows I've contributed my fair share. I must say, the man has amazing taste. It's a legendary location - John and Jackie Kennedy spent their honeymoon there. I'm sure it's always been wonderful, but Ty certainly hasn't ruined it.
We got out of dinner for under three hundred, but it wasn't easy. Was it worth it? Yes. And no. The wine, at $70 a bottle, was mediocre. The abalone appetizer came so drenched in a tetrazzini style sauce that you couldn't taste it. The salad had large chunks of Brie that were way too cold. It was like eating lumps of lard. We fared better with the entrees. My Halibut was outstanding and the portion so generous I couldn't finish it. Eric's dinner was also excellent. The piece of chocolate cake was so so. The lava cake at our local restaurant Vasco is far better.
It's always a let down to be back home. The temperature was a bitter 58 degrees and the gloomy fog dripped on the windshield and swirled around the house. It's hard for me to relax at home. Every place my eye goes there is something for me to do. House projects, the linen aprons I started for Lucy and Allie. Even updating the wills. I do my real estate work at home so that adds to it. For Eric, it's much simpler.He's either at work or at home. That's very old-fashioned, but sometimes I envy it. I'm rarely not working on something.
The intervening year has been traumatic in more ways than one. Looking back on the year in December, a friend remarked that all the good things that had happened to me in 2013 had actually happened to my children. It was a wise and thoughtful comment. Lana got married, Lucy got a fabulous job at Facebook. Allie excelled in her career. All good.
The gyrations of moving and not moving, selling and not selling the house were exhausting. Innumerable stressors, known and unknown, were taking a toll on our relationship. Still in that mindset, we took a trip to Palm Springs in February. The final few days were to be in LA slash Santa Barbara with a belated Valentines Day dinner at the Ranch. Plans changed and that portion of the trip was deleted.
Still hankering for a dose of Santa Barbara, we decided to try again with a June mini-break. Although Montecito is a most dog friendly town, we left Ruby home with Lana. It was her first time without Eric or me and she went on a mini hunger strike. It upset Lana that Ruby would barely eat, but that’s just how dogs are. Anyway, she can stand to lose half a pound.
We started driving down and I was kind of shocked when I realized we were driving six hours for a two night get-away. I'd been thinking it was more like a four-hour drive. My grasp of geography has always been suspect. Basically, we were traveling 345 miles for dinner. No pressure there.
Sometimes its good to be trapped in a car for hours and hours with the one you love. You talk about things you need to discuss and there is no escape. By Woodside we were pretty much talked out and the atmosphere changed. It lifted and lightened. Lunch in Paso Robles was excellent. At least I thought so until I spent much of that night in the hotel bathroom with imploding intestines. Now that's romantic!
Gastric catastrophes aside, it WAS very romantic. It was a short walk to the beach from our hotel in Montecito. The water temperature was perfect for swimming. No wetsuit required. The ocean is incredibly therapeutic. Saltwater will cure whatever ails you in mind or body. It makes my skin feel so good.
I had a huge Planter's wart when I was a young teen. It was so painful I could barely walk. It was going to be removed when I visited my father on Long Island. A few days of saltwater and the wart was completely cured. We hoped the ocean would cure Eric's 100-day cough, but it didn't. It cured the rest of him. I hadn't seen him so relaxed in years.
My fingernails were a mess so I wandered down the street in Montecito Village for a manicure. I was shocked when they told me the price. Twenty-five dollars for a simple manicure. You might be wondering what they charge for pedicures. Forty-five. So for a mere seventy bucks, before tip, you can leave feeling pretty good. Ridiculous.
The night before we'd gotten ice cream and three tiny scoops were over nine dollars. And I thought we lived in an expensive area. Montecito really has to get over it. Unless you can control the moon and the stars and command the sun to break through the fog, you're just another place.
We were prepared for sticker shock when we arrived for dinner at The Stonehouse. You're paying for the experience and location and the food is very proud of itself as well. The bamboo-covered terrace, with hurricane lamps and sparkly lights, overlooking the property and hillside, was sensational. Eric opened the wine list and gulped. Edna Valley Cabernet started at $280 a bottle. I peeked at the menu. Risotto, at $46, was the least expensive item. Talk about eating (and drinking) above our station!
There is a certain gentle, twinkly sound at high-end restaurants. The Stonehouse was no different. The conversations were interesting in the way only an LA area restaurant can be interesting. The patrons were as eclectic as expected. The gay couple behind us was riveting. One of them had a British accent and a serious stutter.
It was hard not to overhear their conversation, not that we tried. Eric and I love to eavesdrop at restaurants. Allie and I do the same thing. Afterwards we let our imaginations run wild and make up stories about them. At one point the man behind us asked the waitress about a guy called Warner. I had no idea who he was, but he sounded important.
On the drive home the next day I put the google on the ranch. It turns out Warner is the owner. Ty Warner. Ty as in Beanie Babies! The man has 2.6 billion dollars because of Beanie Babies! Lord knows I've contributed my fair share. I must say, the man has amazing taste. It's a legendary location - John and Jackie Kennedy spent their honeymoon there. I'm sure it's always been wonderful, but Ty certainly hasn't ruined it.
We got out of dinner for under three hundred, but it wasn't easy. Was it worth it? Yes. And no. The wine, at $70 a bottle, was mediocre. The abalone appetizer came so drenched in a tetrazzini style sauce that you couldn't taste it. The salad had large chunks of Brie that were way too cold. It was like eating lumps of lard. We fared better with the entrees. My Halibut was outstanding and the portion so generous I couldn't finish it. Eric's dinner was also excellent. The piece of chocolate cake was so so. The lava cake at our local restaurant Vasco is far better.
It's always a let down to be back home. The temperature was a bitter 58 degrees and the gloomy fog dripped on the windshield and swirled around the house. It's hard for me to relax at home. Every place my eye goes there is something for me to do. House projects, the linen aprons I started for Lucy and Allie. Even updating the wills. I do my real estate work at home so that adds to it. For Eric, it's much simpler.He's either at work or at home. That's very old-fashioned, but sometimes I envy it. I'm rarely not working on something.
My stomach is still protesting so
we've been eating simple dinners. We figure two nights of tomato soup and
scrambled eggs and our meal at the Ranch hasn't really cost us that much.
Dollar cost averaging. And Ruby, the little stinker who wouldn't eat for Lana,
she's eating just fine.
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