Table for One: Chronicles of a Solo DinerSidling up to a bistro counter sans company offered up benefits that extended way beyond symbolic merit. For one thing, it was a great way to demystify the inner workings of an unfamiliar town, absorbing culture and community through steaming plates of food and amusing observation. It also afforded me the occasion to slow down considerably — lingering, if I liked, over a fortified digestif without regard.
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Fresh GroundsAt 5:45 a.m., Jay Ruskey pulls himself out of bed, stretches, and sets off to make the first of what will be many cups of coffee. He warms the pot, rinses the filter, and slowly and methodically pours water over medium-coarse Good Land Organics Geisha, carefully inspecting his CO2 bloom. The ensuing cup—with its heady aroma of chocolate, floral, jasmine, red apple, rose, and sweet vanilla—is the preternatural result of Southern California’s latitude and climate, and a liquid testament to Ruskey’s unyielding resolve.
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Bonjour, VenturaThere is a small café in Paris - just off the Rue Godefroy Cavaignac in the Bastille neighborhood - that I return to time and again when I’m in town. Little more than an inviting space with worn wooden tables and mismatched dinnerware, its aesthetic lies perfectly in the center of where my Parisian dreams live. The streamlined menu, fresh and always rotating, is upstaged only by the obscure wine selections that line the back wall and nest in crates tucked beneath the bar. Juicy and vibrant and funky and raw, these wines tell stories of rainy spells in the Loire Valley and cold snaps in the Savoie.
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