Rum, chowder, and Otis Redding: could a Saturday afternoon on the waterfront get any better? It was the first of what we hope will be an annual event, Litquake's Words on the Waves, presenting a walkabout of eight readings presented on a cluster of Sausalito houseboats, followed by an open-air concert, cocktails, tasty eats, and tango dancing on the sunny South 40 Pier.

Originally, said Rachel Lehmann-Haupt, a writer and one of the event's organizers, the idea had been to feature food as well as spoken words on each of the eight houseboat sites. After all, we love books and writers here almost as much as we love our sea-salt caramels. But trying to put writers, houseboat owners, and cooks together proved a little too challenging for the event's first time out, and so food and drinks became part of the pierside party after the readings.

Amy Butcher and Hillair Bell serve up Anchor Out cocktails

As the sun danced between teasing ribbons of fog and longtime musician and houseboat dweller Joe Tate strummed his guitar and spun yarns about Otis Redding (yes, "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay" was written here), houseboat dwellers Amy Butcher and organizer Hillair Bell squeezed limes into plastic cups of Anchor Out cocktails, created just for the event. Like a mojito without the mint, the drinks had a strong dark-rum base (what else for a crowd of literary pirates?) sweetened with ginger and kaffir-lime syrup, tarted up with lime juice and fizzed with club soda.

Oyster shucking by Martin Reed of I Love Blue Sea

Behind me, landlubbers and pirates alike slurp down Walker Creek oysters from Washington, adroitly shucked by Martin Reed, Captain of I Love Blue Sea, an online fish company for chefs and consumers. A Bay Area local, Reed moved to Arizona to work as a management consultant, and realized that the rest of the country had nothing like the Bay Area's abundance of fresh-off-the-boat, sustainable seafood. So, a little over a year ago, he started I Love Blue Sea, buying his products directly from fishermen and abiding by the guidelines set forth by the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch. Reed's favorite seafood items right now? Besides this batch of briny, ocean-splashed Walker Creeks, he favors Kumamoto and Kusshi oysters, plus local albacore, black cod, and halibut. And not that we're lacking places to get great fish around here, but locals who order online can skip the shipping charges and pick up their fish at Radius Cafe at 7th and Folsom in Soma.

Jay and Emily Kell of Verge Wine Cellars

Prefer wine to rum? Maria Finn, houseboat dweller, author, and Words on the Waves organizer introduced me to Emily and Jay Kell of Verge Wine Cellars, pouring their 2007 Verge Syrah, made from organic grapes sourced in the Dry Creek Valley. Why Verge? Because they look for grapes grown "on the verge," with room for nature to run wild. When it turns out that the Kells hail from Arkansas, where I spent some very enjoyable months living and cooking at the Writers Colony at Dairy Hollow in Eureka Springs, well, we could chat all day about life in the Ozarks. Only the scent of chowder inspired by Melville can lure me away.

Serving up chowder from Davy Jones Deli

And it's good chowder, too, cod and clam, with milk, potatoes, bacon, bay leaves, perhaps even a little chicken stock in among the seafood--altogether more complex that the simple clam-or-cod soup served up by Mrs. Hussey of the Try Pots Tavern in Melville's classic tome, Moby Dick. This one has been made by David Jones of Davy Jones' Deli, a popular sandwich-and-more joint that operates at the back of the Bait Shop, a nearby convenience store. A little over a year ago, Jones convinced the shop's owner to ditch his microwaved hot dogs and Costco potato salad for handmade, colorful sandwiches stacked high with local, organic ingredients. "We're known for our beef brisket, our pulled pork, and our vegan wraps, all with housemade condiments, including our secret-recipe vegan aioli," says Jones. Once a sea and safari cook who taught environmental science on ships, Jones spied a book about Sausalito's houseboats, and, as he puts it, "For the first time I felt geographic envy. I said to myself, there I could be a landlubber.” He and his wife now live in one of the houseboats he once envied, running the deli and catering special events. His day to day clientele? “Gangsters, yoga moms, and the uber-rich, all rolled into one,” he says.

Sounds like a novel right there.

Hello, sunshine! Foggy August is winding down, with sunnier September right around the corner, just in time for the kids to be back in school and the doldrums of summer’s cut-out-early-Fridays to slip away. So grab these last couple of weekends before Labor Day, sling your sandals and beach towels in the back of the car, and get out of the city in search of sunnier climes.

From Oakland or San Francisco, my vacation compass always points north. Yes, the delights of Pacifica, Pescadero, Santa Cruz, Monterey, San Luis Obispo on down to Los Angeles are many, and I’d happily return for a second slice of olallieberry pie at Duarte’s, or another view of the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s undulating kelp forest and huge, prehistoric-looking sunfish. But what always lures me to the back roads is the sea-tinged scent of eucalyptus and coastal scrub, and the small farms, quirky towns, and rolling sheep-dotted hills of West Marin. So, 101 North, what have you to offer for the casual daytripper?

For starters, get out of town early, before the bridges and highway are clogged with the rest of the vacationing hordes. A promise of really excellent doughnuts and a superior cappuccino is usually enough to rouse even the most sluggish of un-morning people. A decade or so ago, I was working on a round-up of doughnut shops in the Bay Area for a local magazine. Not a single chocolate-glazed was worth getting up for until my friend Liz, born and bred in Marin, turned me on to her favorite high school hangout, Donut Alley in Larkspur. (The exit was Paradise Drive, easy to remember, for what is paradise but a morning that starts with a perfect doughnut?) I went there and fell in love.

The same guy had been running the place for years. They opened at 6:30am and closed when they ran out of doughnuts, usually before noon. There were no maple-bacon or vegan plum-cardamom doughnuts, just good old old-fashioned old fashioneds, your buttermilk bars and apple fritters and cute, tender, just-sweet-enough cake doughnuts, chocolate-iced, cinnamon-sugared, or pink-sprinkled. Parents came in with their kids for a bag to go; old guys sat around a few Formica tables scattered with copies of the Marin I-J and drank paper cups of coffee from the help-yourself Bun-o-matic machine. And while a recent visit revealed the place to be a little spiffed up (the coffee is organic now, the tables dark wood, and a new blueberry doughnut, made with dried berries, is selling fast), the spirit and doughnuts are exactly the same. Polite kids still point and ask, “Can my little brother have that chocolate one, please?” while their baby sisters squeal for sprinkles and chocolate milk.

And while the drip coffee on offer is perfectly fine, you Sightglass-spoiled city folk probably need a more potent eye-opener. Head across the street to the marble counters of Emporio Rulli and order your Rome-worthy latte or cappuccino. Sip it at one of the sidewalk tables, or take it to go and stroll over to Dolliver Park, at the corner of Magnolia Ave and Madrone St. Sit under a redwood tree and breathe the green forest smells while you lick the sugar off your fingers.

Double back to 101, but not for long. It’s time to get onto the meandering Sir Francis Drake Boulevard. It winds, stop and start, through the posh Marin towns, San Anselmo, Greenbrae, Ross, and Fairfax. Soon, though, the countryside opens up and the road slides under towering redwood trees and bark-shredded eucalyptus, swinging past the forested campgrounds of Samuel P. Taylor State Park, through the one-block town of Olema, epicenter of the 1906 earthquake, and into the (by comparison) bustling little town of Point Reyes Station. During the week in wintertime, Point Reyes Station is a very mellow place. On a sunny summer weekend, however, it’s up and lively, thronged with bicyclists and birders.

The Saturday morning Point Reyes Farmers' Market, in front of Toby’s Feed Barn and next to the town’s sweet community garden plots, has just a few farmers—Paradise Valley Produce, Fresh Run Farm, Wild Blue Farm—but they’re well stocked and doing a bang-up business in lettuce and kale, cukes and squash, bundles of herbs, freshly dug onions and potatoes, bright carrots and brighter bouquets. A glance through a wooden crate of new-crop Gravenstein apples from Paradise Valley reveals a couple of ringers: none other than the elusive, rarely seen Pink Pearls, a tart early apple whose cream-colored skin masks its fantastic, hot-pink flesh.

Stop by the Brickmaiden stall to pick up one of Celine Underwood's tangy sourdough loaves, baked in a wood-fired oven in a little unmarked cottage just across the street. It’s the same cottage where Chad Robertson and Elisabeth Pruiett of Tartine got their start in 1994, baking bread and pastries for small stores and farmers markets in the area under the name Bay Village Bread. Next to the bread stall is Wild West Ferments, offering handmade sauerkraut along with canning jars full of wonderfully fruity, lacto-fermented “sodas” in flavors like nectarine-vanilla and plum.

Osteria Stellina's GBD Grilled Cheese serves up three kinds of grilled cheese: a basic one with Valley Ford Estero Gold cheese on Stellina's own crusty bread; sharp cheddar with a griddled egg; and “The Bill from Bo,” Bill Niman’s slow-roasted brisket with Estero Gold. The Marshall Store, from across Tomales Bay, is serving up oysters to go, on the half shell or barbecued.

Not in the mood for oysters or cheese? Well, there’s always what might just be the best burger in West Marin, served right on the way out of town at Marin Sun Farms’ butcher shop and café. (Their beef jerky is perfect trail food, too.) Otherwise, fill out your picnic menu at Tomales Bay Foods, home of Cowgirl Creamery, and take your pick of perfect picnic spots. Families with children can head to the placid shoreline of Hearts Desire beach along Tomales Bay near Inverness. Too full of sunbathers and kayakers? Take the short, shady hike through the mossy, Hobbit-y trees to nearby Shell Beach, generally a little less populated. Or go exploring among the numerous ocean beaches, lagoons, and estuaries of the Point Reyes National Seashore itself.

On the way home, sand in your shoes, cell phones ignored, you can keep the beachy feeling going by snagging an outdoor table overlooking the marina at Sausalito’s Bar Bocce, ordering a pitcher of beer or a glass of white sangria while you wait for your crisp-crusted calamari pizza to arrive, dribbled with lemon oil, flecked with chiles. The best seat in the house isn’t actually in the restaurant; it’s the bench down on the beach, shaded by a big umbrella, where you can dig your toes into the sand and toast your very, very good fortune at having all this bounty in your backyard.

Margo True, the food editor for Sunset, will be demonstrating recipes from the magazine's latest cookbook,The One-Block Feast, at the Point Reyes Farmers' Market at 10am on Saturday, August 27.

Dining in Marin is tough. I've said it before and I'll say it again: there's just not a whole lot to choose from when you're seeking really good quality food without twenty-seven small children running amuck in a spot that's actually open past 9 p.m. Because my folks live in Marin and I visit often, I'm always on the lookout for new restaurant openings and places to try, and ever since Bar Bocce opened a few months back, it's been at the top of my list. Wood-fired pizzas, beautiful patio right on the water, bocce ball courts, inexpensive/local wine list, kind of infamous brownie? This had to be mostly hype, right?

First thing's first: Bar Bocce has the menu and the kitchen staff under control. The menu is a simple, straight-forward and inspired mix of American and Mediterranean food and Robert Price (former Buckeye Roadhouse chef) is manning the kitchen. So far, life is good. The appetizers are all small plates--perfect for sharing--and we found the pizza to be an ideal size for two people as long as you're ordering a few other things for the table. So we did. I suggested the meatballs; my mom was dying to try the oven-roasted asparagus with pecorino. And the pizza? It was a unanimous choice with the Dungeness crab pizza with Meyer lemon and avocado creme fraiche.

After ordering, we had a chance to take in the scenery, the amazing view, and the crowd inside the restaurant. There's no way to quibble with the fact that the 22-person outdoor seating area is one of the more beautiful in the county. It sits right next to the Bay with a dramatic pergola and an inviting fire pit and bocce ball court. This is the new spot to gather for happy hour drinks and watch the sun drift off into another day. The best news? There weren't twenty-seven screaming toddlers. But after experiencing the dramatic outdoor space, there's something about coming inside that seems a bit anticlimactic. It's almost as if they literally ran out of money before they began developing and designing the interior space. It looks much more like an average pizza shop, complete with large televisions broadcasting live sports games. We could've lived without this.

But when it all comes down to it, the food is what will bring people back. And Bar Bocce has the food down. Our meatballs--a blend of three different kinds of meat, bread crumbs, and a secret blend of spices-- were incredibly flavorful and left us actually wishing we'd ordered the meatball pizza. The asparagus was perfectly roasted, and the Crab pizza was almost an order-again. The sourdough crust was perfectly chewy with a nice, slight char on the edges. Just the way it should be. But the crab itself was a little sparse and we thought the creme fraiche just came off as a little showy. A Dungeness crab pizza should stand on its own. And this one could, absolutely, with just a few tweaks.

Left: Roasted Asparagus and a Meatball; Right: Dungeness Crab Pizza

In addition to refreshingly good Marin food, I'd return for the atmosphere alone. Especially in the summer when that outdoor patio will be just a smidge warmer and early mornings at work don't seem quite as urgent. And you won't feel nearly as guilty about spending $8 on a brownie.

Bar Bocce's Brownie

I just couldn't resist trying the Bar Bocce brownie served with a cognac whipped cream. I asked our server what the story was with it and she explained that it's made with a dark, dark cocoa powder and includes espresso powder to enhance the depth even further. Now there are two types of people in this world: people who enjoy chewier, fudgy brownies and others who enjoy cakey brownies. I think both will be pleased here. The Bar Bocce brownie falls comfortably in between the two camps with a fudgy center, chewy edges and the ever-lovely mound of whipped cream.

Need a new place to try in Marin? Inspiration for your next date night? Patio-hopping after a long hike? Bar Bocce can (and will, in time) answer all of these questions. I'm willing to go out on a limb here and say that summers in Sausalito just got a whole lot sweeter.

Bar Bocce
1250 Bridgeway 1, Sausalito CA 94965
(415) 331-0555
Monday-Saturday 11:30 a.m. - 10 p.m.
Sunday 10:30 a.m. -10 p.m.; Brunch on Sat. and Sun. served until 2:30 p.m.

Cibo on a rainy Sausalito day

Most people wouldn't expect that I'd end up at Cibo (pronounced "chee-bo"). First, I live in the city and there are certainly treats to be had in my own neighborhood. Second, my immediate family, after waiting a good five minutes for a drip-to-order coffee, vowed never to come again. My mom just doesn't get the concept, and while I try to explain how much better it tastes, she tells me to call someone else when I want to go to Cibo. OK, so there's that. Then there are my friends who are confused as to why I'd brave Sausalito cyclist-hell to get my hands on a pop-tart and a perfect cappuccino.

Lingering at Cibo on a quiet Friday morning

So given these few hiccups, why do I go? It's a fair question. First, between working part-time in Sausalito during the week and visiting family in San Rafael and Larkspur--I'm in Marin a lot. And many of you may be familiar with the rather grim (although getting better each day) cafe scene there. So when Cibo opened, I raced right over. And while I'm often alone (thanks, mom and co.) let's clear up the cyclist myth once and for all: yes, it can get a little hairy on a sunny Sunday, but for the most part the cafe is a great locals spot--a modern, airy space where folks meet up with friends, bring in their laptops to get a little work done, and have quick meetings over the best coffee in town. The space itself, a 120-year old brick building, has concrete floors, massive windows, and exposed brick walls. It honestly just feels good in there. It's conducive for coming in off the busy street and taking a legitimate break. I bring in a book and find that all of a sudden I've read fifty pages without the urge to check my iphone. For me, that's huge.

While not necessarily speedy, Cibo baristas make a mean latte using Blue Bottle espresso

The infamous homemade Pop-Tart

Now on to the food. I've only been to Cibo once for lunch, and tried that infamous wild mushroom panini. It's worth every penny and stands up to the hype. But for me, the real draw are the pastries and sweets that Tera bakes each day for the cafe. The pop-tart has been a standard item from almost the very beginning. It's a relatively thin, crispy treat made with polenta so it has a delightful golden color and simultaneously flirts with both sweet and savory. Tera plays around with different fillings, but lately they've been doing apricot--the perfect antidote to a strong Americano. I tell you, your day will improve the second you bite into one of these. They do sell out though. I've come in a few hours too late on numerous occasions and, with hopes dashed, have had to settle on something else. Which is always a blessing in disguise as it's led me to the cinnamon-sugar muffin (or some of the locals call it the donut muffin). It's a small, light, airy little muffin doused, dusted, and rolled in cinnamon and sugar. It tastes, quite literally, like childhood--the most comforting little breakfast morsel around.

To celebrate spring, pastry chef Tera Ancona brought back the sticky bun!

Then a few days ago, I noticed a new item: a small sticky bun studded with nuts and strewn with layers of cinnamon inside. While I had just planned on getting a cup of coffee and finishing the paper, I was sucked in. The thing I really appreciate about all of Tera's treats are their size. Nothing is huge, overly sweet, or doused with frosting. When I spoke with her last week, she mentioned that there are a million places you can go to get a one-pound pastry if that's what you're looking for. Cibo isn't that. Instead, Tera wanted to create more of an opportunity for people to try a few sweets without feeling too committal or guilty about it. The size is also conducive to try a little something in conjunction with breakfast or lunch or take a few treats home for later. It's all about ease and pleasure: Tera and her husband Alfredo (of Angelino's fame) truly want for people to slow down, taste the options at Cibo, and treat themselves without feeling like it needs to be a major decision. And for me, it never is. I order freely and happily (albeit alone), cyclists or not.

Cibo
1201 Bridgeway (corner of Pine and Bridgeway)
Sausalito, CA 94965
Map
(415) 331-2426 (CIBO)
Hours: 7 days a week, 7 am-5 pm
(415) 331-CIBO (2426)

Poggio: dining al fresco

The last rays of sun warmed my shoulders as I drank in the waterfront views, sailboats bobbing happily beneath a hillside of pretty pastel homes, and made my way to a charming trattoria spilling out onto the sidewalk. A leisurely seafood supper awaited me, complete with crisp white wine, homemade pasta, and hospitality as warm as the balmy breezes floating in from the wide-flung doors. Was I in Capri? Positano? Close. Sausalito.

Located below Sausalito's landmark Casa Madrona, Italian trattoria Poggio seems like the perfect place to milk the remnants of an Indian summer.

Marinated Monterey Sardines with soft cooked egg, pancetta and lovage (an herb with a flavor similar to celery)

I was invited to do just that at last week's Festa del Pesce, a celebration of local seafood during the last days of summer. On the menu was a selection of mostly local and sustainable fish served raw, cured, marinated, oak grilled, wood fire roasted and fried.

Fritto of local Surf Smelt with lemon aioli (aka "Fries with Eyes")

I appreciate the tip of the hat that Poggio gives to each season. For example, coming up in November (11/10-11/15) will be their annual Festa del Tartuffo, celebrating the white truffle harvest (yes, Chef Peter McNee travels to Italy to hunt for truffles himself; and yes, this is one party not to miss). The Bollito Misto Festa takes its turn in the early winter with an abundance of simmered meats and sauces served tableside. The Spiedo Misto della Pasqua celebrates the arrival of spring and highlights meats cooked on the spit. And then before you know it, it will be time for seafood and long summer nights again.

Speaking of which, the pesce at hand.

The evening's special menu consisted of five Crudo (raw/marinated/cured) and five Cotto (grilled/braised/fried) seafood antipasti, along with two whole-fish preparations -- oak grilled Branzino with cherry tomato confit and broccoli rabe; Snapper baked in sea salt, with lemon, arugula and young green beans -- and a Risotto ai Frutti di Mare with scallop, shrimp, mussels, clams, saffron and tomato.

Stuffed Monterey Calamari braised in its own ink with local butter beans

For me, the most special dish was the stuffed Monterey Calamari braised in its own ink. The flavor was so unique -- rich and earthy (in a sea-faring kind of way). There was something...visceral about eating this dish. But, don't disturb yourself by getting too psychoanalytic here. Just dig in and enjoy the utter deliciousness.

Also of note was the wood-grilled local Swordfish Spiedini (skewers) served over slightly charred, tender radicchio. The swordfish was screamingly fresh, tender, almost buttery, and the accompanying bagna cauda was perfectly garlicky and anchovy-y.

Cozze al cartoccio mussels cooked in paper with white wine, tomato and chili

The Mussels cooked in paper were like a magic trick, as the translucent package was cut open tableside. Inside, we were rewarded with succulent gem-like mussels, sweet as could be.

Bruschetta with pickled Monterey Anchovies, avocado and heirloom tomato gazpacho

On the crudo end, Chef Peter did a phenomenal job highlighting two very under-appreciated fish: sardines and anchovies. Our table decided the poor things just needed some good PR, because oooh they are tasty! Anyone have a new sexy name we can instate?

Spaghetti alla Carbonara, made with house-made guanciale, egg, pecorino romano, and pepper

We veered off our pescetarian diet to indulge in some of the prized house-made guanciale (cured pork cheeks). The perfect vehicle to highlight that deeply porcine flavor? Spaghetti alla Carbonara, naturally. Not for the faint of heart, this dish is a serious calorie bomb. It left a little too much lard flavor and mouthfeel for my taste, but I could appreciate the craftsmanship that went into making it. I was also pleasantly surprised by how much the aroma reminded me of Chinese lap cheung (cured sausage) when the dish was set in front of me.

Prosecco Moscato, Carpene Malvolti

Just the thing to refresh my taste buds before dessert, a sparkling glass of this delightful Prosecco Moscato from Carpene Malvolti. Our sommelier was jazzed about sharing this beauty, and at the first sip, I understood why. A perfect harmony is struck here between the light fruitiness of the Prosecco and the flowery notes of the Moscato. Flavors of apricot and orange blossom danced in my mouth as I savored each bubble.

Lemon Mousse topped with Meringues and Pistachios

You'd think we'd be stuffed to the brim after such a feast, but there is always room for dessert. This Lemon Mousse was just what I wanted after this big meal, with its citrus punch and light-as-air texture. And the homemade meringues and toasted pistachios on top were the perfect touch. I love the flavor combination of lemon and pistachios. It is pure Italian sunshine to me.

Lucky us, Chef Peter McNee was kind enough to share his recipe! Perfect for dinner parties too because you can make all the components ahead of time. Buon appetito!

Lemon Mousse with Meringues and Pistachios
Recipe courtesy of Peter McNee, Executive Chef of Poggio

Serves: 4

Lemon Curd
7 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon granulated sugar
Zest of 1-2 lemons
3 oz. fresh squeezed lemon juice
1 oz. lime juice
3 eggs
2 egg yolks
5 tablespoons butter

Combine all the ingredients, except the butter, in a mixing bowl. Place over a pot of boiling water (making sure the bottom of the bowl doesn’t touch the water) and whisk until curd sets up thick. Whip constantly so that your eggs don't curdle. Remove from heat.

Add butter, continue mixing. Pass through a fine mesh strainer or sieve. Pour into a container, placing a sheet of plastic wrap over the curd to prevent a skin from forming. Chill overnight. The lemon curd will stay fresh refrigerated for up to 5 days.

Meringue
1/4 cup egg whites
1/4 cup granulated white sugar
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

Preheat oven to 100 degrees F. Whip egg whites with a mixer. Before soft peaks form, add the sugar and cream of tartar. Continue to whip until stiff peaks form. Using a pastry bag, pipe the meringue into .5 inch diameter lines, onto a wax paper-lined cookie sheet. Bake the meringues for 3 hours, or until they are crispy and without any color.

Can be made a few days ahead of time, but must be wrapped airtight once cooled to prevent them from being soggy.

Lemon Mousse (assembly)
Chilled lemon curd
1 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup pistachios
4 serving glasses, approximately 6 oz each

Lightly toast and chop pistachios. Whip cream to stiff peaks. Combine the lemon curd and whipped cream, folding the two together until homogeneous. Place one half tablespoon of pistachios into each of the glasses. Using a star tipped pastry bag, pipe the lemon mousse into each of the glasses. At this point the mousse may be refrigerated up to 3 days once covered. Before serving, garnish each with the remaining pistachios and broken pieces of crispy meringue.

Poggio Trattoria
777 Bridgeway
Sausalito, CA 94965
Map
(415) 332-7771