Finally, news from Sister!

A week, 6 WHOLE nights, in Montecito at ‘The Biltmore’, that should be enough. (http://www.fourseasons.com/santabarbara/) 

Dayenu…  The original room was pretty darn special.  Very deep with an intimate balcony surrounded, in such a way, by palm fronds and various plantings so that whoever deigned to sit outside would feel that any action or inaction would be private.  It was a great room – but – it faced an elevator.  The main building has only 2 floors so how much elevating would there be?  OK – more than we wanted.  For what we were paying, we wanted complete and total privacy.  We wanted to pretend to be Brangelina sans children.  Well, there really ‘is’ no such thing but we got the next best thing.   

A cottage which was an appendage (connected by a door) to the Ty Warner Cottage; now, we had a ‘room’ – whew!  Maybe 3 times larger than the original room, two walls of windows covered with plantation shutters (which I love, love, love), an entire wall of window seating and 2 luscious chairs in front of a fireplace, that we never used.  Two full closets and a superior bathroom layout finished the picture and I could have stayed inside ALL week just reveling in the luxury but I had to go out and explore.  The resort has gardens that give new meaning to manicured.  Every morning a fleet of gardeners, with their trolleys, begin the day on their hands and knees picking up even the most minute piece of debris.  Debris could be defined as an errant blade of grass or a flower dropped on the ground over night.  When I realized that these real live gnomes tossed away flower blossoms, I made it my business to retrieve some each day and allow them to die a more pleasing death in our cottage.  The area is considered sub-tropical and in October we found ourselves eyeball to eyeball with banks of impatience, lantana, fuchsia, fern leaves the size of cabinet doors, Mexican sage, butterflies and hummingbirds every where you turned.  My favorite find was an African Tulip Tree with deep orange, lightly pleated blooms the size of my hand.  The top of each bloom was a bright yellow curl.  The contrast made me want to weep and the blooms died far too quickly once they fell from the tree but they were magnificent.

 Each morning I indulged in a lengthy walk beside the ocean, the estates of very wealthy individuals (I was told you can call them estates, even if they are normal sized homes IF they are surrounded by walls of either hedges or block – privacy is the rage in this area of California), the cemetery, a bird sanctuary and ended in the little village of Montecito.   

Here I was introduced to the most incredible bakery ‘ever’!  If I ADORE travel, then I am ADDICTED to bakery and unique grocery stores .  I find it therapeutic to visit both and often don’t even need to make a purchase to satisfy my ‘urges’.  Jeannine’s Bakery on the Coastal Road (read – main street) is a 5-star establishment, from my perspective.  I felt a bit of a let-down when I read that there are 4 or 5 locations in the entire area but I can understand the need to share the goodness of the place with those within a 10 mile radius.  A receptionist at The Biltmore directed me to the spot on my first morning and I found reasons to visit daily, there after.  Each morning there are 6 to 8 varieties of scones, oh my…  and after my first bite of a black currant one, I was hard pressed to leave this flavor ‘out’ of the daily box.  Oatmeal, iced oatmeal raisin, blueberry, strawberry and cream, raspberry, pumpkin, plain (oh – please), coconut, lemon-boysenberry and on and on could be found lined up daily like soldiers.  One morning I was later than usual and found the selections leaning precariously on top of each other.  This place was a local meet and greet.  There were the regulars (you could tell ‘cause they had the ‘best’ tables) and everyone was jockeying for position for their morning coffee or latte ‘fix’.  I tried a smoothie on Day 1 and had 2 more as the week passed – they were FABULOUS.  Finding a chunk of banana and a couple of half berries in the bottom of my cup made the whole drink taste even better.  Mid-week I met the pastry of my dreams.  An oatmeal bar which tasted slightly ‘Betty Crocker Date bar-ish’; the bottom was thick and divine.  This layer of absolute paradise was topped with a touch of goo, possibly apricot jam – just enough to attach the quilt of apricots and cranberries.  After several days back in the land of reality, I broke down and begged for a copy of the recipe.  I have yet to receive a response but you better believe I’ll ask again.  Food is my TOTAL VICE so I made a special effort to purchase the final copy of “Gourmet Magazine” for the flight back.  I dog-eared multiple pages and will add the magazine to my collection of “never will attempt but sure do like to fantasize – about” recipes.

More later, I need to recount my thoughts about the meals we had, my visit to the cemetery where the only thing spooky were the rates and the unbelievable customer service at the Four Seasons Resort.

Sister