Enjoying Wine Tasting and Country Music at Savannah-Chanelle Winery

“The best wines are the ones we drink with friends.”
                                                  —Anonymous

Last evening we were invited to join our fun-loving friends Bernie and Sophie Weinzimmer for an evening of wine tasting and music by “One Country,” acoustic country band at the award winning Savannah Chanelle Vineyards in the Santa Cruz Mountains. 

The irony that the name Weinzimmer, in German means, “wine cellar,” wasn’t lost on me. Equally ironic is my name, Dennis originates from the Greco-Roman name Dionysius, the god of ecstatic states, particularly produced by wine. 

Speaking of names, the winery is named after owner’s, Mike and Kellie Ballard’s daughters—Savannah and Chanelle. Besides the Shangra La setting, the staff is helpful and friendly, the wine is delightful— prices of which are moderately priced. There are chairs and tables to enjoy wine and snacks. Collectively, we brought smoked trout, vegetarian rice rolls, fresh avocado dip, chips, and fresh cut melon.

The wine tasting room is located inside a very charming 100-year old barn. My favorite was the Cabernet Franc. The other two parts of the winery are the upper area with large white chairs with bright red umbrellas that overlook the valley, green mountains and grape vineyards, and the lower forest and trail area. The entrance to the vineyards is through a cylindrical wooden structure reminicent of original medieval castle gates in Europe.

As Sophie pointed out, “I love living in an area where you can find yourself in the Redwoods within a ten minute drive from home.”

The back story of the winery, involves a French imigrant who was looking to create a new life for himself in America: Pierre Pourroy booked passage to the new world aboard the Steamship La Gascogne in January 1887 in pursuit of a dream to own his own land. Arriving at the port of New York, he then continued his arduous journey by train to California. Practically penniless, he made ends meet as a sheepherder, miner, and laborer. He was encouraged to approach fellow Frenchman Narcisse Aubry who had purchased vineyards in the Santa Cruz Mountains after being forced to flee France following the 1852 coup d’etat. 

After joining Aubry’s winery, Pierre fell in love with one of Aubry's daughters, Marie Louise, and they married in 1891. Pierre’s brother joined the couple and, he too married. Together, the couples saved enough money to buy 80 acres to clear and plant their first vineyard in. After Jean Aubry died in 1899, Pierre and Marie were able to purchase the 200 acre estate. The Prohibition era all but killed their dream. Pierre reapplied and was granted a wine license in 1936, a few years after the repeal of prohibition. The war broke out in Europe and it would be decades before the wine industry would flourish again. In the 1970s, new owners with new dreams emerged but they would eventually leave to establish a winery in Santa Barbara while high technology in Silicon Valley was at its infancy.

In 1996 Kellie and Mike Ballard visited the property and felt an “immediate emotional connection” to the historic estate. They decided to buy the property and through hard work and perseverance, dedicated themselves to preserving the legacy of the historic estate first begun by Frenchmen, Aubry and Pourroy.

How Poetry Can Support us in Good Times and Bad

"Poems are Wise and Timeless Tools That Can Help Us at Every State of our Life's Journey"—Dale Biron

Cecile and I attended an amazing poetry event at the Acqua Hotel at the edge of SF Bay in Mill Valley called, “A Fierce and Enduring Gratitude with Dale Biron.” The venue was the Acqua Hotel at the edge of SF Bay in Mill Valley, a setting that was equally poetic.
Dale is an exceptional poet, a leadership coach, adjunct professor at Dominican University. The program was sponsored by the Network for Grateful Living. The emphasis was on “How Poetry Supports the Happiness and Joy of Grateful Living in Good Times and Bad." The presentation was in honor of Biron’s longtime mentor and friend, Br David Steindl-Rast and his lifetime of work bringing grateful living to the world. Years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Br David, a Benedictine monk at Esalen Institute in Big Sur, who received permission from his abbot early in his life to study with some of the great Zen masters. He was kind, compassionate and very approachable.

Biron says, “Poems are wise and timeless tools that can help us at every state of our life’s journey, especially times of difficulty and loss, on our path back to gratitude, happiness and yes, even joy.” Biron has shared his poetry-inspired presentations at TEDx, The Herbst Theatre in San Francisco, as well as non-profit and business conferences nationwide.

After the event, we had a chance to speak about the poetic imagination. He autographed a copy of his book, "Do It With Poetry, Why We Do Our Daily Practices." One of Biron’s favorite poets is William Stafford, who once said: Everyone is born a poet, a person discovering how words sound…I just kept on doing what everyone starts out doing. The real question is: Why did other people stop?”

Back in the day, when I had transitioned out of medicine I found myself journaling, reading and writing mystical poetry and even took haiku poetry instruction at Hakone Gardens for a couple of years under the direction of Michael Dylan Welch, author of Becoming a Haiku Poet. He taught me how to appreciate the immediacy of the experiences, an aha!!!—Zen moments if you will. In the Spring of 1997, Hakone Views printed one of my poems. I humbly offer it here:

pink-lipped cherry blossoms
quiver in the morning breeze
my heart flutters

And in the late 90s one of my haiku poems was published in the deluxe 50th edition of the Basho* Festival Anthology,” that took place in Japan.Here is the English version as follows:

the bear fishes
flicking its paw
sprinkling the moonlight

*Basho was a 17th century haiku master born near Kyoto, Japan. Many of his revered poems are reproduced on monuments and traditional sites.

http://gratefulness.org

Celebrating Jason's Birthday at Steamer's Grillhouse

As parents, when we wish our sons (and daughters) a Happy Birthday, we realize the words mean so much more than have a happy day. It means we love you, we celebrate your birth. It means we are happy that you’re here, and wish you much more happiness this and every day—this and every year. 
Jason’s choice of Steamers’s Grillhouse to celebrate his 36th birthday—couldn’t have been better. Over the years we had frequented this 4 1/2 star restaurant in the heart of downtown Los Gatos, CA, and were never disappointed.

His dear friends Julie and Alex arrived and were escorted to join us at our table near the front window in the more spacious and quieter corner of the restaurant.  
I had to agree with one patron visiting from the UK who said Steamer’s Grillhouse, “Had the look and feel of a Parisian Brasserie.”

And, author and food writer, Christina Waters, who I was acquainted with back in the day, describes the restaurant this way: “From it’s floors and polished hardwood tables to its lofty terracotta ceilings, the all-new, all-huge Steamer’s is a babe…Glowing coral rooms radiate out from a central serpentine bar, whose polished curved wood is repeated by a curved ceiling…the restaurant offers seating islands decorated with impeccable tropical plants.”

We ordered cocktails. I had my usual Moscow Mule in a signature copper cup. We clinked the rim of our glasses in celebration of being together in honor of Jason’s birthday.
For starters, we shared a platter of Crispy Calamari and Ahi Tuna Tartare.

For our entree Cecile grilled Organic Salmon, I had the grillled Fresh Alaskan Halibut with veggies and roasted potatoes. Julie had seared scallops with risotto, Alex had swordfish, and the birthday boy had linquini and blue wild prawns. The food didn’t disappoint. 

Our waitress uncorked a bottle of Michael David Winery Freakshow Cabernet Sauvignon that Alex brought to share. The provocative and whimsical label portraying a big circus tent and the "strongest man," in yellow tights lifting owners and brothers Michael and David Phillips up in the air, with hot air balloons in the backdrop was equally matched by the rich and riotous full body taste of the wine itself. 

All and all, the food presentation was spectacular, the ambiance was elegant, yet casual, the waiters and staff provided outstanding service, and in my humble opinion the company was was exceptional.🙂

Now it was time for something sweet. All the desserts were freshly made on the premises. Cecile and I shared the decadent Tirimisu cake. The waitress brought Jason’s molten chocolate lava cake with a lit candle. He flashed that million dollar smile of his, before silently making his birthday wish.

Happy Birthday son, and enjoy your travels in Spain tomorrow!

The Mozzarella Man, “Old Blue Eyes,” and a Flashback to My Italian Roots

"He ate beautiful food, the old man:
green tomatoes in olive oil, fresh bread,
a big white ball of mozzarella, and he drank
down a glass of purple Chianti wine.
He wore old clothes, he lived alone in the piazza,
where all the summer couples paraded, and young boys kicked a ball agains the wall of the church.”
                                                      —Brad Shumantine

This could have been a poem describing my late grandfather Concetto, a fisherman in Roccalumera, Messina where I spent many a summer. But, let me fast forward:

It was a hot early evening in late May at the Black Stallion Winery in Napa, where the wedding rehearsal dinner party was taking place in honor of our daughter Michelle and Kyle. The food was catered by Tre Posti Foods from Saint Helena. Tre Posti or “Three Places,” as it’s called in Italian, refers to the separate restaurant, patio and garden area. The hosts were Kyle’s mom Kim step-dad Al Chien, and his dad, Ed Lewis. The wine was flowing. The food was authentic Italian and “buonisssimo,” as my uncle Lillo would say.

As I walked around schmoozing with family and friends, and sampling appetizers, I saw this mustached man in white chef clothing standing under a red umbrella with the vineyard in the backdrop. He was heating something in two large copper skillets. The sign to his left read: Tre Posti Live Mozzarella Demonstration, hand pulled fresh mozzarella “al minuto” crostini and Napa olive oil. The server was a man called Chris Johnson. He served me one. It melted in my mouth. I was in heaven. I had another one with a sip of wine, then another. I found myself hogging the station. To an Italian this mozzarella station was like an “Italian Shrine.” 

Fresh mozzarella or “Mutz,” as we call it in New Jersey, is a sliceable curd cheese made from cow’s milk, originating in Italy, home of my ancestors. It is best when served within hours of making it and can be eaten cold as in a tomato caprese salad or warm on crostini bread as depicted here or baked in certain type of pasta dishes, or atop a pizza. The curds are heated in water until they become elastic in texture, then stretched like taffy, kneaded until smooth, then made into round balls to make fresh mozzarella cheese.

Growing up in Hoboken, NJ, my mom always bought a braided version of fresh mozzarella, called treccia at Fiore’s Deli on 4th and Adam Street that was established in 1913. Now owned by the Amato family, the sign reads: “Famous for our Mozzarella.” I used to eat it either plain or with ham on a crusty piece of Italian bread. It was so good that the late Frank Sinatra used to have it shipped from Fiore's to his home in Palm Springs, CA. When I went away to college my mother would periodically send me a care package that included mozzarella, ham, Italian bread and peperoni. I guess she thought if it was good enough for Frankie boy, it was good enough for her son. 

I also ate it fresh from the cows when I stayed at my mother’s friend Rose’s parents Franco and Maria's villa and farm in St. Agatha de due golfi (of the two gulfs) overlooking the Amalfi Coast. Finally, I ate it while visiting my late grandmother Peppina, in Sicily where my mama Maria was born in 1947. Mom used to call mozzarella and tomatoes with olive oil on a wheat baguette “peasant food,” and said she could eat it every day if she had to. Today, it is has become an accepted healthy mainstay of the “Meditaranean Diet.” Buon Appetito!

Father’s Day Barbecue at Kim and AL Chien’s lovely Abode

“The Heart of Hospitality is about creating space for someone to feel seen and heard and loved. It’s about declaring your table a safe zone, a place of warmth and nourishment.”                                                                                            —Shauna Niequist

It was called 5:30 PM on one of the hottest days of the year. AL’s wonderful parent’s Dana and Jack were already present. Our daughter Michelle had just arrived from Park City, Utah where she attended a Bridal Shower party for childhood friend, Elisa Sabes. 
Cecile, our son Jason and I arrived next. Jason’s friend Julie Poutre stopped by for drinks and appetizers. Michelle's husband Kyle arrived after having lunch with his dad, Ed Lewis and long time girlfriend, Gerry, followed by wine tasting at J. Lohr and Testarossa Winery. And, of course there were the dogs, Hunter and Baily, and Michelle and Kyle’s dog, Decker who were hoping against hope for some scraps of food when no one was looking.

We sat inside in the air-conditioned family room for the first hour because there weren’t enough oxygen masks available to sit outside.🙂It was like a sauna out there. An hour later though, things cooled off enough (except for AL) to relocate on the Chien’s beautiful entertainment patio in the back yard.
AL played 18 holes of golf earlier in the day and if it weren’t for the gatorade would have suffered heat stroke.🙂Then, he barbecued for all of us. Thanks AL. you’re a mensch. We owe you one. As AL pointed out in a earlier post, he and Kim decided on a red, white and blue Father’s Day theme since they are always in Tahoe for the 4th of July. 

I’d say that Michelle is very lucky to have married into such a thoughtful, fun-loving, and hospitable, family but the truth is Cecile, Jason and I feel very much the same. I know Michelle would agree that we don’t think of the Chien’s and Kyle’s dad and girlfriend Gerry as Kyle’s family but part of “our” family as well.

After appetizers, and before dinner, we all sat down on the patio to watch a slideshow of Michelle and Kyle’s Wedding of May 20th, that had just arrived from the photographer. Once again, we got to experience the beauty and wonder and love that we felt when Michelle and Kyle tied the knot in the magical redwood Grove at Silverado Resort and Spa in Napa. Through the skillful photograher’s eye, we got to see poignant and candid shots we weren’t aware took place amongst the 170 family and friends that were in attendance. Every one’s eyes were misty. I sensed Michelle and Kyle were probably thinking, “pinch me,” did this really happen? Yes, it did, and our lives have all been made the better for it.

Honoring My Century Year-Old Dad On Father's Day

“Life was a lot simpler when what we honored was our fathers…rather than all major credit cards.” – Robert Orben

During a recent shopping trip to NYC, Michelle and Cecile took a bus to Hoboken, NJ to pay my dad, Frank, a visit. 
They brought him some of his favorite pastries from Panera’s. My sister Josie, who lives nearby was present. Dad was holding court in his office, surrounded by plaques, awards, commendations, proclamations and photos of him
with the local mayor, Dawn Zimmmer, Councilwoman, Jennifer Giattino, state senator, Brian Stack and NJ Freeholder, Anthony Romano for his life of service. I will always be grateful to these fine leaders for honoring him.

Michelle thought it would be a great idea to have her grandpa talk to me on FaceTime. 
He really perked up when he heard his grandson Jason was home with me. “Dad, it's grandpa on Facetime,” he said. 

Thanks to great genes and a peaceful, easy going Buddha-like disposition, my dad is 100 and 5 months old now. 
HIs ever curious mind is still intact. 

Advancing age has slowed him down to be sure.
He uses a walker to get around.
He is blind in one eye due to macular degeneration.
He has limited vision in the remaining eye.
He needs help getting dressed.
He has a live-in caregiver, named Marcelle to help groom and fix his meals. God bless her soul!

But, what I love about him is he doesn’t indulge in self-pity.
In fact, he is fond of saying, “There is always someone else worst off than me." He’s been telling me this since I was a young man.

Every evening I call to check up on him.
“How are you feeling pop?” I ask.
“Pretty good, so far,” he answered matter of factly.
“Good!" I respond.
“Good for nothing,” He says jokingly about his inability to do things he used to do.
He rarely takes himself too seriously, and jokes about his age by saying: “I’m no Spring chicken anymore.”

Over the last several years I have become more patient with him. Since my mom died 4 years ago I began taking an oral history of his life, which generated many newspaper stories.
When I talk to him, whether by phone or during my visits from California, I know I’m in for an evening of reruns, but they are reruns of a great movie, the movie of his life. 

When I’m in his presence, I love to gently kiss the top of his fuzzy balding head—grateful for each precious day he is with us. He has taught me a great deal about aging gracefully. He has an incredible lightness of being about him, and makes it a point to preserve his inner peace no matter what circumstances he finds himself in. He even wears a wrist band that says, “Don’t Worry!”

I once read a quote from G.K. Chesterton that reads: “Angels can fly because they take themselves…lightly.”
That’s my dad!
Happy Father’s Day Pop!❤️

Postscript: The angel on his shoulder is one of a half dozen I gifted him. They gently emit a pulsating light at the heart level. He keeps them on the back of his desk and on his office window sill, happy to have them watch over him.

It's Never Too Late to Live Happily Ever After

It’s Never Too Late to Live Happily Ever After,” read the colorful oversized Coffee cup flower pot at our table at LeQuy, our favorite restaurant for Pho, Vietnamese noodle soup (click photo for expanded view).

The uplifiting wisdom saying coincided with my having read about a recent study conducted by Harvard psychologists Matthew K. Killingsworth and Daniel T. Gilbert. Working with a sampling of 15,000 people from a broad socio-economic background, across 80 countries, they concluded that a “Wandering Mind” is an Unhappy Mind. The happiest people seem to be those who are consistently more mindful of the present moment and become least happy when they allow their minds to wander.

It confirmed everything I had learned from many years of Mindfulness training, my yoga practice and reading classic books on the subject like, “Be Here Now,” written by former Harvard professor and American spiritual teacher Ram Das (born Richard Alpert). Still, I slip now and again. But like all worthwhile endeavors it requires practice, and worth the effort.

We spend almost 50% of our waking hours thinking about something other than the task at hand. A great deal of time is employed ruminating about the past, contemplating the future, and fantasizing to avoid being bored. In fact, “The Mind,” produces about 60,000 thought a day, 80% of which are negative.

The researchers noted, “That people were happiest when making love, exercising, or engaging in conversation,” and; “least happy when resting, working, or using a home computer.” I would add that people are also happiest when they are passionate about their favorite pastimes like gardening, art, music, dance, bicycling, etc.

I was once asked by an acquaintance, “How can you have a blog entitled: enjoyyourlifenow.net, nobody can be happy all the time?
I explained that a happy life does not mean the absence of difficulities but facing them head on, knowing that “this too shall pass.” 

One of my mentors, Joseph Campbell to whom I paid tribute to, in my book: Invisible Means of Support, A Transformational Journey wrote: “You learn to recognize the positive values in what appear to be the negative moments and aspects of your life.” When I have what appears to be a bad day, I invariably can recall an event or two that gladdened my heart. Years ago, I even wrote a poem in my journal about it called “Not a Bad Day for a Sad Day,” that touched on this subject.

Happiness, it turns out is a skill, a power we possess within ourselves. We only need to know how to harness it. Cultivating joy or contentment in the midst of life's challenges and difficulties is pivotal. Joy is not some self-improvement prop we tell ourselves but an inclination of the heart that softens and eases around a difficulty that can taken hold of us at any given time.

Following dinner at our friend Marianne's home, who is an artist, poet and children's book writer, she sent us a handwritten card—unusual in this day and age—that read: “Through the spiraling of time and changes, we are grateful for your friendship. We have endured great loss in the past year, and have wonderful joys to savor every day…Ah, such is the heartbreak and beauty of this precious life.”

The front of the card had the following quote by Voltaire (Francois-Marie Arouet, 1694-1778), a French Enlightenment writer, historian and philosopher that read: "I have decided to be happy, because it is good for my health.” In spite of a tumultuous career at a time of great change, he knew as does singer, songwriter and producer Pharrell Williams, that happiness is a choice.

The Iconic Chair Lift Dance at Michelle and Kyle's Wedding That Left Everyone Smiling

Martha Graham called dance the “hidden language of the soul,” and Gabrielle Roth says, “We dance to disappear in something bigger…to fall in love with the spirit in all things.”

Since Michelle and Kyle got married in Napa recently, guests couldn’t stop talking about the dance called “The Horah” where everyone gathers around the bride and groom and dances around them in a circle. Having married into a Jewish family, I have had many opportunities to partake in this fun, heart-opening, spirited dance.

For those unfamiliar with this circle dance, at some point, chairs are brought on to the dance floor for the married couple to sit on, and several able bodied guests (hopefully not hammered by alcohol)🙂 hoist them up into the air like a “King and Queen,” for the evening. The Horah is a type of Israeli folk dance that originated from Romania (and dates back even further to ancient Greece). During this topsy-turvy dance where the bride and groom are up in the air together, they each hold on to the end of a handkerchief or white linen table napkin. This smbolizes the connection to each other and represents the sealing of their marital vows. 

One look at these photos, emailed to me by my sister Josie, and brother Steve, and one can see that being lifted in the chairs can be as scary as it is exhilirating. It’s like riding a mechanical bull at your local country western bar—not for the faint of heart. If you don’t believe me, just ask Academy Award winning actor Michael Douglas. During his son Dylan’s Bar Mitzvah celebration, he pulled a muscle while being hoisted up in the air during the chair dance. All the jerking up and down, and back and forth, left him limping for days. That said, I am happy to report we all survived the dance without injury.

The “chair dance," has always been a mainstay of Jewish wedding celebrations. Ever since Fidler on the Roof, it has become part of our pop culture. It also has become part of the the music/dance play list for interfaith couples—where one spouse is Jewish. Judging by their own experience and that of our guests, I know Kyle and Michelle would agree that the wedding reception wouldn’t have been complete without The Horah circle dance and chair lift. This beautiful ritual symbolizes how much joy family and friends have for our beloved newlyweds. 
 

“Come Be Greek for a Day,” said the Invitation and share in the Greek Traditions of Food, Drink and Dance!

Cecile and I accepted and attended the 45th annual San Jose Greek Food and Cultural Festival Yesterday, sponsored by St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church.

While on the mini-bus shuttle that took us to the event, I sat next to a man from Romania. He told me he tried to get his kids to join him in experiencing a new culture but they weren’t interested. “They were too busy playing electronic games and texting their friends,” he said. Though he smiled while saying this, I could feel his sense of frustration. He could have easily used the phrase: “It’s Greek to me,” to explain his kids incomprehensible behavior in not taking advantage of the opportunity offered to them. “You don’t have to travel out of the country to enjoy other cultures,” he added as we arrived at our destination. 

As we exited the shuttle and bought our tickets we began to smell the aroma of beef, chicken, lamb and other foods being prepared by Greek Chefs in the Bay Area using recipes that have been handed down for generations. We ordered the traditional Gyro Sandwich, a spicy and savory pressed meat served with cucumber sauce on soft and fluffy Greek pita bread, an Athenian Salad and shared a bottle of Greek Beer.

After lunch we moved to a large tented area to watch the adorable children perform traditional Greek folk dances called: “Philotimo” and “Meraki,” as their proud smiing parents took photos to memorialize the event. The word Philotimo we were told means, “friend,” and Meraki means, “the soul, creativity and love you put into something.” In front of me a father of one of the girls had a T-Shirt with a quote from George Panayotopoulos that read: "The beauty of Greek Dancing is that you don't dance with your feet...you dance with your heart."

In the end, we experienced the culture and hospitality of the fun loving Greek people in a spacious outdoor, open-market setting under a sunny day. The food was delicious and we enjoyed communing with Greeks and non-Greeks alike. All of us were walking about, happy to be alive. Zorba said it best, "...there is only one life for all men...there is no other...all that can be enjoyed must be enjoyed here." By the time we were ready to leave we realized we “did” feel “Greek for a Day.” We even made it to the Parthenon (see photo).

Maybe the Romanian man I met on the shuttle was right. Maybe, “You don’t [always] have to travel out of the country to enjoy other cultures.” Maybe it’s just about showing up, as a guest at someone’s home ready to accept their hospitality and their desire to make you feel at home. OPA!

Memorial Day Weekend Brunch at Shoreline with our Chicago Family

Memorial Day Weekend Brunch at Shoreline with our Chicago Family

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it

                                                                                    —William Arthur Ward

Just past the Shoreline Amphitheater sits Shoreline at Mountain View, California, a 750-acre wildlife refuge and recreation area on the SF Bay, located in the heart of Silicon Valley. We had Brunch yesterday at the Lakeside Cafe with Cecile's brother Mark Weiner, wife Barbara and Ilana and Zachary who enjoyed an hour of paddle boating while I did a two mile walk on my favorite trail around the lake and and along the Bay. The weather was accommodating, the colors were bright and cheerful and it seemed everyone was out to embrace this beautiful day.

Cycling the Backroads of Napa Valley Before Michelle and Kyle's Wedding Ceremony

While the ladies were getting their hair and nails done at the Spa at Silverado Resort in Napa—including my wife Cecile and daughter Michelle—Kyle played 18 rounds of golf with twenty of his friends and family members.
What did I do? Thanks to my friend James “Jimi” Hunter, we rode electric bikes that he and his beloved Jennifer brought up from Los Gatos. Everyone needs a friend like Jimi. I see him as the “Minister of Fun.” He motivates you to get out there and do things. It got back to me that he even got my son Jason and a few strangers to take his bike for a short spin.

Napa Valley is “an embarrassment of riches,” including 500 wineries, top rated restaurants and cycling routes, many with no designated bike lanes. We just made it up as we road along. In was a perfect morning to go riding, sunny, mild, fresh valley air—a respite from the late afternoon 90 degree heat we were in for. We drove in some of the most serene, scenic, friendly and low traffic parts of the valley. We stopped along the way to visit cattle, horses as seen in the photos, then continued our ride past manicured vineyards and private estates. The two hour riding time never went so fast. We got back to our respective rooms with a few hours to spare before Cecile and I walked Michelle down the bridal path, then gave her hand to Kyle and they were pronounced husband and wife by Jason, The Officiant, under the ceremonial Chuppa. It doesn’t get any better than this. Though, we hear grand kids are fun.🙂

Michelle & Kyle Tie the Knot in the Heart of Napa Valley

“Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life."
—Richard Bach

The Grove at Silverado Resort and Spa in Napa is an all outdoor wedding venue situated in the middle of our two golf courses. It is surrounded by towering oaks, beautiful gardens, and spectacular views of the greens and mountain ranges. It is the reason it is one of the most popular and inspired settings to get married. When we saw our beautiful daughter Michelle in her wedding dress surrounded by her lovely bridesmaids our hearts melted. It finally struck us, we are giving our daughter away to Kyle, the love of her life. We couldn’t be more pleased with her choice.

A Successful marriage is not about finding a person you can live with, but discovering that special partner you can’t possibly live without. Michelle and Kyle had many opportunities to meet: They went to Cal Poly, attended a semester abroad in Florence, one of the most romantic cities in the world, were in Las Vegas on the same weekend, to name a few, but it was not their time, yet. As our Jason, who officiated the wedding ceremony with creative brilliance, love, and inspired humor said: “The universe wouldn’t place them together again until four years later, when Michelle saw on Facebook that Kyle was getting ready to move to NYC where she lived at the time. She sent Kyle a note and said she’d love to connect with a fellow Cal Poly alum once he gets settled in. A couple of weeks later he invited her to a housewarming party,” and the rest as they say is history.

This begs the question how are couples fated to meet? What is the mysterious matchmaking forces at play behind the scenes that make it happen? In ancient Chinese folklore, the wise sages believed that there is a red thread that magically connects two people destined to become lovers, regardless of time, space or circumstance called, “The Red String of Fate.” Legend has it that the string may stretch or tangle but the connection can never be broken. Rumi, the beloved 13th Persian Sufi poet put it this way: “Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere, they are in each other’s souls,” to which I would add, long before their physical bodies are revealed and the mind registers that, “This is the one! 

As we walked down the bridal path leading to The Grove, the iconic Beatles song: “Here comes the Sun,” was playing. I thought it was a great metaphor for letting go of the youthful uncertainties of the past and basking in the sunlight of marital bliss. It also reminded me when Michelle was born Cecile gave her the Hebrew name—Hila, which means, “Halo of Glowing Light.” She has been the Light of our Life ever since and has radiated that same light to her beloved Kyle, his family, and all their friends. Since meeting Kyle, who has an incredible Lightness of Being in his own right, we have never seen Michelle so happy. When children find true love, parents find true joy. The Toast: Here’s to the past, and the Red String of Fate, that brought you together; Here’s to the present, for all the love and light you share with one another and with your family and friends; Here’s to the future, may all your dreams and wishes come true; and, as you go about your life’s journey together, may you be peaceful, may you be safe, and may you be happy. Congratulations! We love you. 
P.S. I will always remember the Father-Daughter dance song: "Unforgettable," you chose for us. You are unforgettable and so was your marriage to Kyle and the celebration with family and friends.

Celebrating Mother’s Day with a festive Brunch at La Rinconada Country Club

"When you are a Mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A Mother always thinks twice,
once for her Herself and once for Her Child…”
–Sophia Loren

First of all, Cecile and I would like to wish all the special Mothers out there a very Happy Mother’s Day.
Those present at our celebration were AL and Kim Chien who hosted the event. Thank you for your generosity, friendship and love. Also present were AL’s parents Dana and Jack, AL’s brother Rich, his wife Lisa and their adorable children, Alivia and Simone; Kyle, Michelle and Jason. Gifts were exchanged for the moms, the weather couldn’t have been more accommodating, the decorations, flowers and ice sculpture were a work of art, and the food, drinks and dessert was beyond delicious, and the service beyond reproach. 

We often forget where the special milestone holidays we celebrate each year originate, so I thought a brief history
was in order. Celebrating Mother’s Day can be traced back to the ancient Romans and Greeks. In more modern times the celebration of mom’s dates back to the 19th century.
Abolitionist and suffragette Julia Ward Howe wrote the “Mother’s Day Proclamation,” calling mother’s to unite in the promotion of world peace.
1n 1908, Philadelphian feminist activist Anna Jarvis created Mother’s Day after her mother’s death, to honor the sacrifices mothers made for their children. Though Philly is known as the City of Brotherly Love, it could easily be referred to as the City of Motherly Love. Thanks to Jarvis’ campaigning efforts, a Congressional resolution was put intio play and was signed by President Woodrow Wilson in 1914, proclaiming Mother’s Day a national holiday.

Mother's Day: Remembering What My Italian Mother Taught Me

Mother's Day: Remembering What My Italian Mother Taught Me

"The loss of a mother can never be replaced, but the love of a mother can never be lost. —Kelly Flannery

We had dinner with our new friends, Ron and Gail last evening who had downsized around the same time we did, to the same gated community we now call home. One of the topics we spoke about was Mother’s Day. I had said for me Mother’s Day is bittersweet. I lost my mother on Mother’s Day. Ron said, “So did I.” In that moment I had a sobering thought that death never takes a holiday and doesn’t play favorites. When it’s your time, it's your time.

Mom was a beautiful woman, and had a smile that would light up a room; a laugh that was both robust and contagious; and possessed the sharpest of wits that would have you in stitches. She was also a hospitable host to family and friends and had the most charming Italian accent. I used to love going back to the Sicily with her to visit our ancestors.

As a devout Catholic, mom was confident that there was a room waiting for her in the Afterlife. I feel safe in saying that at the ripe old age of 88, bodily ailments and dementia setting in, she was ready to meet her maker.

It’s been four years since she has passed, and I have come to the realization that the best way to cope with having lost my mother is to change the narrative. Instead of looking at it as “my” loss, I chose to refect upon who she was, what she taught me, and the tools at my disposal to deal with the wave of melancholy that rears its head from time to time.

Mom taught me to have respect for my elders.
Mom urged me to stay in college when I was thinking of dropping out.
Mom taught me there was a power bigger than myself.
Mom told me stories of her life in Sicily before coming to America in 1947.
Mom taught me how to hug with a heartfelt embrace.
Mom taught me how to be strong when things weren’t going my way.
Mom nurtured and protected me the best she knew how.
Mom was patient even when I pushed her away.
Mom didn’t give up on me even when I would fall flat on my face.
Mom always tried to cheer me up when I was sad.
Mom taught me the meaning of hard work and sacrifice.
She taught me how to persevere and encouraged me to believe in my dreams.
She was proud of my accomplishments, and most of all she gave me unconditional love.

Common to many religious traditions are Light offerings, contemplation and prayers. They symbolize removing the darkness that death symbolizes and replacing it with the light of wisdom.

I found the single most effective ritual to ease the pain and sadness of a loss is to share it with others who are going through the same thing by employing an ancient Tibetan practice called Tonglen that has gained popularity in the West. It was taught to me and Cecile by Pema Chodron, an American born former elementary school teacher who became a Buddhist nun and utitilizes the medium of Breath. It replaces the dynamics of fear, grief or anger with compassion for oneself and our fellow human beings.Though it may seem counter-intutiive at first, one breathes in the pain and suffering of one’s self and and others who are going through difficult times. Relief is offered with the out-breath to anyone who needs it whether you know them or not. The experiential message of tonglen is that it reduces the feeling of isolation. It is a universal law that at any given time all of us suffering and joy. This is a way to share the burden of grief, and in doing so cuts it in half.

Mom, thank you for all the sacrifices you made for your family both here and abroad. Love you.

The Scoop on Liquid Nitrogen Ice Cream at Creamistry

"Life is like an ice cream cone, enjoy it before it melts away."
—Dennis Augustine

On a hot day like today, 81° here in Northern California (yesterday it was 94°, “we all scream for ice cream.”
Remember that poet getting on in years who said, “If I had it to do over again I would eat more ice cream…?
I’m with her, why wait and have regrets, unless of course you’re a diabetic, and even then there are choices.

One of the newer kids on the block in customized handcrafted fresh ice cream using Liquid Nitrogen is Creamistry. It’s a play on words: Chemistry and Creamery. The rapid freezing process (—321° Fahrenheit) provides the smoothest, richest and creamiest frozen delight. They call their servers “Creamologists.” Yes, I know it sounds like you're at your dermatologist's office. 

Part of the fun of liquid nitrogen ice cream shops, is watching your ice cream being made. When liquid nitrogen is mixed with your ice cream base, it makes the air around it very cold. This creates fumaroles of white fog that engulfs your Creamologist behind the counter top and plexiglass panel. It makes you feel like you are on the movie set of Star Trek. Beam me up Scotty! Cecile and I had fun watching and being part of a group of customers snapping photos with our cell phone cameras of this interesting phenomenon. It’s a great place to take your kids and grandkids. 

Once the fog clears, your freshly made ice cream is whisked away to the toppings bar where its adorned with your choice of toppings. They use all natural, organic ingredients and boast over 70 flavors and toppings. There are rich Vegan alternatives and Nitro shakes on the menu of choices.

We tried our first Creamstry delight in Palm Dessert. But there is one located in downtown Palo Alto with a national roll out under way as we speak.

Liquid nitgrogen has been around forever. As we learned in our science studies, Nitrogen is part of the Periodic Table bearing the symbol N and atomic number 7. I used it to freeze off warts in my clinic when I was a practicing podiatrist and many other surgeons use it to elminate cancerous cells. 

Besides making ice cream, liquid nitrogen which comes in pressurized tanks and vacuum flasks, has been used in the food and beverage service industry to displace oxygen from the package of let’s say your favorite potato chips, before it is sealed. It’s the presence of moisture that deteriorates the food quality.

The Culinary Institute of America instituted a major in culinary science. As part of obtaining their degree, students learn how to use liquid nitrogen as a coolant to not only make a smoother batch of ice cream, but to freeze strawberries in liquid nitrogen and then smash them to produce strawberry dust that could be sprinkled over a dessert. It is also used in the kitchen to flash-freeze herbs or alcohol. Bartenders use it to supercool your glass giving it a sophisticated dramatic-looking vapor.

Brunch and Bonding Time with my son Jason at the Bell Tower Cafe'

This charming Saratoga neighborhood eatery near downtown is housed in a converted historic church that dates back to 1896.
And, in spite of its religious heritage you don’t have to pray that the food you are about to be served is good. It “is” good. The white egg Persian Omelette with four organic eggs, basil, tomatoes and feta cheese is one of my favorites. Jason had the California Omelette.
The Cafe’ sports three patios with optional fresh-air dining that is peaceful and serene and welcomes and accomodates dogs. They are only open for breakfast and American-style lunch, including an assortment of tasty desserts showcased in their bakery display case. The Cafe’ is known for quick and friendly service and the freshest of ingredients.
I couldn’t resist ringing one of the 9 antique bells on the iron stand in the quaint reception nook as patrons waited for their names to be called.
While pausing half way through our meal, I saw a sign on the wall which read, “The Fondest Memories are made Gathered around the Table,” and, all I can think of was how nice it was to have my son back in the Bay Area.

The Baby Boomer, The Millennial, & J. Crew's CEO:

Cecile and I had a party to go to in honor of Michelle and Kyle. “Dress casual,” she said. Music to my ears, I thought. After all, my favorite wardrobe these days is Lululemon yoga wear. Don’t knock it, until you try it, guys. It’s like wearing PJs all day.
I compromized. I put on a blue Lululemon shirt, a pair of blue jeans and a grey J Crew Outfitter pullover sweater with a half zip that my fashion conscious son Jason had given me for Christmas last year. There was an unseasonable chill in the air at the pre-dinner backyard cocktail party at the Metrulas family home, and I praised myself for selecting the right choice of clothing to wear.

Suddenly, I noticed our young friend, Noel motion with his fingers to his chest and then then pointing to my chest. I realized this was men’s speak for, “Dude we are wearing the same sweater.” I’m sure this has happend to almost everyone at one time or another, when you suddenly realize that someone is wearing the exact same oufit as you. 
As fate would have it, we were seated across from each other. A Millennial and an aging “Baby Boomer,” with over 30 years between us, sitting there like two book ends. Noel’s fiancee, Kacy, a psychiatry resident at Stanford said, “You look like twins,” as she smiled micheviously. In the end, Noel and I were pretty cool about it, laughing about it in fact, as we partied on. After all, we didn’t have to worry about the late Joan RIvers of the Fashion Police getting on our case for confusing the public. 

After a few days went by, I got this brainstorm to email J. Crew Chairman and CEO Millard “Mickey” Drexler. Really, no lie! In fact, I discovered that he had extended an invitation to J. Crew customers to give him feedback on the companies e-commerce site. So I did. I told him about the party, how Noel and I were dressed alike in our J Crew sweaters. The one observation I had made about their website was that it markets to a much younger crowd, and one market they were overlooking was more mature dudes like myself.

He promptly wrote back: “Hi Dennis, hope everthing is well—thanks so much for your email—totally agree with your comments and we’re actually working on showing more people of different ages...who do in fact wear our clothes or ‘should be wearing our clothes'…Have a great weekend!" Best, Mickey. 

Whoops, I need to go. Noel and I have a photoshoot with GQ:-)

Couples Wedding Shower Honoring Our daughter Michelle & her Husband to Be—Kyle Lewis

The Setting: Home of Kyle’s cousin Lynn and husband Pete Metrulas who graciously hosted the event at their home. A lot of love went into the planning and execution of this party. They went beyond the call of duty.
With the help of Kyle's mom, Kim, stepdad AL and others, They transformed the inside of their historical home dating back to the 1800s into a cozy banquet room for family and friends to celebrate the made-for-each other couple. Cocktails were served in the back yard below which Steven’s Creek literally runs through the back of the homes in the neighborhood. The sound of the rushing water added to the ambience of what turned out to be a fun evening of great food, games like Name That Tune, and gift opening by the future newlyweds. 
Dearest Michelle and Kyle. May you continue to be a gift and a blessing to each other. We can’t wait for the big event in Napa when you officially take your marital vows. We Love You.

Dining at Cafe' Figaro with Jason and Michelle at a Price we Couldn't Refuse

Located on Broadway in downtown Burlingame, this four star rated restaurant serves authentic homemade Italian cuisine. It has a warm and cozy neighborhood feel resembling the ones I frequent when visiting family in New Jersey.

The word Figaro always intrigued me as a kid. It is best known as the name of Mister Geppeto and Pinocchio’s pet cat and refers to a cartoon mouse who incessantly teases the cat by singing “Figaro,” inside the wall. In fact to some, the word Figaro repeated over and over again, means you are “pretending” to sing opera-like I did when I was a kid: “figaro, figaro, fiiiigaaaroh!"

To opera buffs, Figaro is the name of an adroit, scheming, intriguing Spanish barber who appears in in eighteenth-century operas like “The Marriage of Figaro,” by Mozart and the “Barbers of Sevile," by Rossini.

By arrangements with Travelzoo, Cafe’ Figaro gave us a deal we couldn’t refuse. Dinner for four was priced at $115, or 50% off their regular price. If interested the offer is good thru September 2017. It included a glass of wine each; two shared appetizers up to $18.95; 4 entrees up to $34.95 each and two shared desserts up to $16.95.

We began our meal with crusty bread with herb infused balsamic and olive oil dipping sauce; Mussels steamed in garlic, wine, fresh tomato and basil; and the Antipasto Misto. For our main course we enjoyed Spaghetti alla Bolognese; Chicken Parmesan, Gamberi alla Mediterranea, and the fresh fish of day. Last but not least we enjoyed two shared desserts: Flourless decadent chocolate cake and Bread Pudding with maple brandy sauce and creme anglaise.

The waiters were delightful and engaging, the service was impeccable and the food was deliciously good. John Walters said: The only thing I like better than talking about food is eating.” Or as my late beloved Sicilian mother used to say before every meal: Buon Appetito!

Beggars & Panhandlers: To Give or Not to Give to, that is the Question?

As I've grown older I give mindfully and more often, leading with my heart rather than the judgmental mind, knowing that it's a 50/50 proposition whether the person I encounter has a genuine or legitimate need. That being said, I understand why people are hesitant to give.

We've all seen the soggy side of a cardboard sign with the scrawled message that reads,” Hungry and Homeless, Anything Helps,” or "Kindness is Karma, please help!" There's even a phrase for it, “Flying a sign.” The message is often creative, poignant, heart-rending, inspirational, and sometimes downright funny enough to part you from your money. It is done quickly, silently and without transgressing any local statutes against agressive
panhandling. The intent is to make us feel guilty and uncomfortable, reminding us,“ But for the grace of God go I.”

When Cecile and I were in SF recently, we came across two such people. The first one was a young woman and her well groomed cat that was entertaining pedestrians by doing a downward facing cat yoga pose—on the fly, balancing itself on it's owner's head and shoulder. Since we were both walking briskly in opposite directions, I hadn’t noticed she was clutching a tightly rolled-up wad of cash in her left hand until after I saw the photo.
The other was a strung out crack addict with all her front teeth missing sitting in the doorway of an abandoned buildling with an innocent dog sleeping on her nap. I didn’t take her photo as it seemed too exploitive, but this one pulled on our heartstrings so we gave her some cash.

For some people who encounter this situation it creates sympathy for the homeless and for others a total lack of empathy. The ACLU has advocated for the rights of sign-flyers across the country. Their argument is that “we the public,” can choose to give to the beggars and pandhandlers or not. On a good day they can make a daily wage of $30-$40 a day, not exactly a windfall, but enough to get by.

But windfalls are possible. A few years ago a reporter for the New York Post wrote about a guy in the second photo who called himself Noah (aka Joseph Ramos, 64 at the time)—because he set up a miniature Noah’s Ark on the upper East Side of NYC to draw in patrons. He invited them to take photos. He had two cats, two dogs, and three guinea pigs and was raking in $40-$50 an hour. Yes, an hour—this is no typo! After having been addicted to alcohol and crack cocaine for 16 years, he claimed to have found God. ASPCA spokesmen said agents invesitgating complaints by some passersbye found no evidence of cruelty or abuse and after inspecting the pets, deemed them to be healthy.

Most panhandlers or beggars like Noah clearly have issues: a history of drugs and alcohol abuse and/or mental illness. Some are just scam artists who don’t want to work a 9 to 5 job.
You can’t always tell who is trully needy, so what does one do?

Last February Pope Francis was asked by a reporter for the Catholic News Service if giving money to beggars was proper since they may spend it on alcohol or drugs. His response was that we should ask ourselves what we “do on the sly?” What happiness do we “seek in secret.” The Holy Father added: “giving to someone in need, “is always right,” and should be done with respect and compassion. In the end, everyone must work out this moral dilemma for themselves. 
credits: 
1-Carol Glatz, Catholic News Service, February 28, 2017
2-NY Post Metro section by Kate Briquelet June 10, 2012