Ghoulish girl

I really don’t have a thing for cemeteries. I prefer to think of it as ‘an interest in history.’ It brings history alive for me, no pun intended.

Turns out, I’m not alone. Lots of people like to tour old cemeteries, read tombstones and ponder the past. I talked my husband into going with me to a guided tour of the Old City Cemetery in downtown Sacramento.

It was free, an education about California history, and a great walk through beautiful gardens – if you don’t mind all the tombstones.

Around Halloween, interest in these tours pick up because volunteer docents offer special evening lantern tours. Because of the popularity of these tours, there is a $30 charge and there are 16 offered this year.

It’s not even October and all 16 tours are already sold out.

We went on a free morning tour called Saloons and Eateries, along with a few dozen other ghoulish sorts.

People jostled for position to hear about the wild Gold Rush days when bars might be nothing more than a tent and full meals were often served free to bring in more drinking customers.

For a time, bordellos were common but as the area became more of a family community, they were less accepted and finally closed for good.

 The cemetery grounds are on a slight hill, and before the region’s levees were built, this was safe ground when the rivers overflowed their banks and flooded the valley. This happened often. Sacramentans would pick up their belongings, trek up the rise to the cemetery grounds and camp out til the water receded.

John Sutter, of Sutter's Fort and Sacramento's founder, donated the first acreage for the cemetery and it grew over the years to 60 acres. Around 25,000 people have been interred here over 150 years.

Tours are led by volunteers, with donations used for repair and maintenance of the cemetery. In fact, virtually all the landscapers are volunteers too.

This is one of those places I had always meant to visit when I lived in California before but never did. Cemeteries aren’t about visiting dead people. They’re about thinking about living people – and so many of the people in this cemetery had fascinating lives.

Farmer’s market redux

 
Tomatoes, cilantro, bellpeppers, onions, half a blistering hot jalapeno. All purchased an hour earlier from the downtown Sunday market.

Jam into my salsa chopper.

Eaten along with a half bag of tortilla chips in 10 minutes.

Basil, garlic (farmer's market purchase), olive oil, pine nuts.

Saute the pine nuts lightly in the olive oil along with the garlic. Into the food processor.

Presto, pesto.

Cilantro, garlic (farmer's market), plain yogurt, vinegar, olive oil, squeezed lime.

Into the food processor. Delicious salad dressing I can't get enough of.

Tomatoes, onion, bellpepper, garlic (ditto), a splash of worchestershire, shake of dried red peppers, salt. Ground beef added for two servings of spaghetti sauce. Veggie meat product for another.

Peaches (ditto, ditto), peeled and sliced. Tucked into ramekins. Topped with brown sugar, flour, oats, butter. Peach crisp for dessert. Eaten too fast for photo to be snapped.

In search of a reason to eat breakfast

I’m a breakfast hater. Married to a breakfast lover. Over the years my husband has unsuccessfully tried to convert me to his side. Too many mornings launched by heavy omelets and greasy bacon has only solidified my view that a piece of toast and coffee is best until lunch arrives. Maybe oatmeal, plain, no milk.

Our move to Sacramento and more innovative cuisine makes my husband hopeful. He dangles the idea of exploration and adventure. A new Sunday breakfast location every week. At worst, these places would serve coffee and toast. Why not?

Our first Sunday is at a pleasant café in midtown called Bacon and Butter. It has an energetic vibe and the lobby is full. We are squeezed into a table for two and I assess the situation. This isn’t a lazy-Sunday-over-coffee-working-the-crossword kind of place. It’s loud and bustling – the kind of place you’d bring out-of-town guests or to meet friends. We talk loudly to be heard over the small table.

Nose down in the menu, I’m happy to see something beyond the usual. There were some hits and misses. Bee Pollen? That’s the menu item for agave yogurt, granola, fresh fruit, honey and bee pollen. It was just trying too hard. The Kitchen Sink is “lardon (bacon), potatoes, baby spinach, mushrooms, carmelized onions, two eggs.” It sounded ok but if you have to follow lardon with an explanation that it’s bacon, just call it bacon. Like the restaurant’s name implies, there is bacon everywhere. Bacon is in the sauce with the smashed fries, in the biscuits and gravy, even in something called a peach and bacon scone. Terrifying.

I was still fighting the idea of breakfast. I seize upon the breakfast blt, which is bacon, baby arugula, heirloom tomato and tomato aioli. If they were willing to serve me lunch (or sweetly, “lunchish,” on the menu), that worked. It was delicious. Curiosity led to a mistaken ordering of the peach and bacon scone – doughy, tasting of greasy bacon not fully rendered and lacking any peaches.

The nice thing about Bacon and Butter is it tries very hard to be a farm to table type of place. The ingredients taste fresh and the menu changes with the season and availability of items. We agree it's so-so overall and pretty pricey.

The next Sunday takes us to a Sacramento icon I haven’t been to in years. The Tower Café. It used to be next to Tower Records, but the store is now an empty storefront and since parking is in an old cracked pavement lot, I’m worried about this choice. Still, Yelp gives me confidence that this isn’t a mistake and there are raves about the French toast.

We round the corner and into a separate universe. The entry is a courtyard filled with plants and manicured mature trees. There’s a Buddha, maybe two. It feels very zen-like. Despite the rough-around-the-edges neighborhood, Tower Café has carved out a defined and most comfortable space. Inside is noisy so the patio is the place to be if you’re willing to wait awhile. We find it well worth the wait, cool under the trees and quiet enough for conversation.

The French toast is amazing, crunchy on the outside and creamy with custard on the inside without being overwhelmingly sweet or mushy. We split an order which is quite enough since it comes with two thick slabs, but my husband must have his bacon so we order a side of that too. I over-enthusiastically order a side of potatoes too. What has happened to me?

The side of bacon is thick and just the right texture of chewy, but the potatoes are just ok. Chunky but flavorless. That’s too bad since the side is the size of a small mountain. The French toast more than redeems this place and we return the next week with family in tow. Two thumbs up.

Sunday #3. A quick decision is made as we get in the car. Lucky Café, next door to Bacon and Butter, is a traditional place – omelets, hash browns and the like. It’s the kind of place I typically avoid. I quickly locate my safeties on the menu – oatmeal and toast. Instead, I’m talked into splitting a breakfast of pancakes, eggs, sausage and potatoes. A couple of dollar-sized pancakes, sausage and potatoes come my way.

The pancakes are passable, as in “I’ll pass next time.” They are both dry and gummy. The sausage, while greasy (what was I expecting from a sausage?), was delicious and the potatoes rank pretty high, sliced thin and fried lightly with onions and bell pepper and dusted with black pepper. Still, the food is heavy and not my favorite kind of place. One thumb up and one thumb down.

There are lots of Sundays ahead and it’s become less about breakfast and more about the search. I’m not sure what’s next but it’s a big city out there. The adventure is worth eating breakfast again -- at least once a week.