Former food, wine, and travel writer Richard Elfman once again picks up his knife, fork, cork-screw, and pen to begin a regular column featuring his favorite haunts, observations, and adventures.

A pleasant night.  A warm ocean breeze.  And all speech suddenly stops in the jacuzzi, as four nerds reflexively gaze upon the shapely blond in the red bikini as she rises gracefully from the bubbles, turns her provocative back, and ascends the steps like a sexy goddess.  
I quickly stand up to my full six feet (suck in my gut), spread my boxer’s shoulders with a menacing confidence…and follow my wife out of the jacuzzi, as the four accountants, whatever, now avert their eyes meekly.

As we head to our room, I tell Lauren she’s looking a bit dangerous now that she trimmed down a few sizes and was able to dress more playfully.  We were both feeling kind of playful and adventurous that evening — our second wedding anniversary.  We planned to spend it in a tent under the stars — had not wild and ill-mannered animals driven us away.

Lauren and I enjoy camping in Big Sur, the site of our marriage, where California’s towering mountains meet its most spectacular coast.  As Big Sur was recovering from devastating fires earlier in the year, we chose another great camping spot, Montaña de Oro — a magical set of bluffs adjacent a dramatic cove and terrific, secluded beach.

Montaña de Oro

We had arrived the previous day with all the necessary camping gear: the tent, lantern, and all that, but, more important, prime-aged steaks and garlic rosemary lamb chops marinating in the ice chest, plenty of mesquite wood to provide a proper charcoal, fine Bordeauxs from the wine cellar, candles, romantic music, and fun videos to watch on the laptop later on, as we snuggle in conjoined sleeping bags with owls cooing gently in the night.  Ah, back to nature and roughing it.  Nothing better!

It was late afternoon when we pitched the tent and organized our campsite, so we had time to enjoy the setting sun and a glass of wine down by the cove.  As this was a special trip for us, I poured a 2001 Reserve de la Comtesse — a young but quite drinkable Pauillac with a deep ruby color, an expressive nose of blackcurrants, tastes of plum, spice, and cassis with moderate tannins and a wonderful finish.  Not a bank buster, La Comtesse is a “second wine” of the legendary Pichon Longueville Comtesse de Lalande. Lauren and I held hands, sipped our wine, and watched an absolutely beautiful sunset.

We finished the bottle back at camp, as my pile of mesquite wood burned down to a bed of fiery charcoal.  I recommend a hardwood campfire — oak or mesquite.  Avoid soft woods like pine, which may impart an undesirable taste to the food.  Our California campgrounds provide large metal fire-pits with heavy little grilling grates.  I also bring a second (rectangular) grill to place over the pit and create a larger cooking area.

I fired up the steaks along with zucchini spears and simple corn on the cob — all from Bristol Farms which, along with Whole Foods, are my favorite markets.  Lauren thought the second bottle of Reserve de la Comtesse was even better than the first, having more time to breathe in the decanter.  (They haven’t invented, yet, a proper “camping” or “back-packing” decanter, so I just bring along a cheap one in the event of breakage.)

I stoked a little more wood on the fire (any firewood is okay after cooking), and we enjoyed our dinner to a romantic medley from Andrea Bocelli’s Romanzo, Linda Rondstadt’s Canciones de mi Padre, The Art of Amelia Rodrigues (she being perhaps my favorite Portugese fado artist), and Chopin’s Les Sylphides, played by the Berlin Philharmonic under the legendary baton of Herbert von Karajan.  I highly recommend the great sounding little portable music player, Logitech’s Pure-Fi Anywhere — around $100, 15-hour rechargeable battery, works with iPod, iPhone, or any laptop.  Beautiful sound for the money…as the fire and second bottle were now getting quite low and Lauren and I sat blissfully in our camp chairs, savoring the night…

When suddenly, a noise startled us!  Loud thrashing from the darkness, not two feet behind me!  Lauren gasped.  I grabbed for a flashlight.  Something was running off.  It’s a damned raccoon which had brazenly snatched our trash sack.

Oh well.  After cleaning up a large trail of litter, we decided to take a walk along the beach and watch the stars.  Montaña de Oro is a beautiful area, and Lauren and I hugged and made out under the vivid stars.  This was turning out to be the perfect romantic getaway for us.  And Lauren had a surprise — a special box of hand-crafted dark chocolate almond clusters, ordered specially from Stafford’s Famous Chocolates, my favorite chocalatier.  Yum!  And they were stashed safely in the tent.

“Safely in tent…” my mind wondered nervously, having heard tales of clever raccoons breaking into safes.  We rushed back to find the zippered tent door opened slightly.  We shined our light inside…empty chocolate papers and crumbs scattered everywhere!  And not 20 feet away, several raccoons brazenly licked their paws and whiskers, looking at us like we were suckers who ventured into the wrong neighborhood.

Ah, life!  This is nature and we were roughing it.  Lauren and I snuggled into our sleeping bag and watched Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in Top Hat.  “Dancing cheek to cheek…”  Quite romantic.  Lights out.  We started to kiss and embrace tenderly…and then were suddenly SHOCKED to hear our tent zipper opening!  I fumbled for a flashlight, my adrenaline rushed and my heart pounding.  A damned raccoon had his head poked in the tent!  I shined the light in his face.  The cheeky bastard didn’t even flinch until I lunged at him.  Shit!  We could hear three or four raccoons milling around outside the tent.  For the rest of the night, every hour or so, they opened the zipper and tried to come inside the tent.  What the hell did they want?  The chocolate almond crumbs?  I tried spraying the entrance with insect repellent and leaving a lantern on, but the bastards didn’t give up.  Thank God they’re nocturnal and we managed an hour of sleep once the sun rose…except that it was unseasonably hot that morning — 89F instead of the 76F it was supposed to be.  The tent got unbearably warm.  Lauren and I stumbled out, totally disheveled, and were greeted by a million flies that the heat had apparently motivated.

We drove sullenly to the nearest Starbucks in the neighboring town of Los Osos to plan and regroup.  Whatever one says about Starbucks, one must give them credit for a decent product and remarkable degree of consistency.  I prefer a dry cappuccino; Lauren likes a sweet caramel macchiato.  We were also able to get online.  Louis and Emberly seemed to have Buzzine under control, although Lauren, our senior managing editor, always likes to check on things.  (God forbid a typo!  Or letting me shift tenses, as I love to do.)

After the caffeine had semi-woken our sodden brains, we grabbed a mediocre breakfast at a nearby joint and headed back to camp.

A breeze had thankfully driven some of the flies away.  We sprayed ourselves with insect repellent and decided to pack up a day early.  Normally we’ll spend two days “roughing it” in the tent, then spend a third day at a nice resort to shower off and relax from the wilderness as a readjustment before heading back into the non-reality of Hollywood.  But today is Tuesday, our anniversary, and the The Cliffs resort, about 30 miles south in Shell Beach (near San Luis Obispo) offered a great midweek special.

Baileyana tasting room

Lauren and I like The Cliffs.  We would tell you a lot more about their features, amenities and cuisine…if only they had a Media Relations person to assist with information, photos, etc.  They apparently have someone holding that title, but no one doing the job (as we have written them three times and gotten no response).

But I digress.  Check-in time was not till later that afternoon, so we decided to picnic at one of the outstanding Central Coast wineries.  Baileyana proved an excellent choice.

A short but scenic drive inland, the Baileyana Winery is situated on a hill overlooking the majestic vine-laden Edna Valley.  Their wine-maker, Christian Roguenant (a native of France’s Burgundy region), is renowned for artisan wines that reflect the uniqueness of where the vines are grown, rather than simply displaying the generic properties of the grape.  The French call this “terroir.”

The Baileyana tasting room, converted from a hundred year-old school-house, was staffed by two charming young ladies who offered us various excellent samples to try.  I found the Mosaico particularly interesting: a quirky blend of Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, and Petite Syrah — smooth and rich, with flavors of blackberries, coffee, and a hint of anise.  Quite good — we purchased some bottles to bring home. We decided on a bottle of their signature Grand Firepeak Cuvee Pinot Noir to take outside to the picnic area, where we enjoyed it with a lunch of proscuito, sorpresseta salami, sharp Irish cheddar, and an herb & garlic (Boursin) goat cheese that Lauren favors.  The wine was marvelous as well as distinctive — full of flavors, velvety smooth tannins, raspberries, spice, and cherries.  Voila!  What a perfectly stunning day we were having!

The wonderful craftsman wines and spectacular view makes Baileyana a MUST for any serious picnic group. Although we had brought our snacks from Bristol Farms, the local area features a number of gourmet delis, and Baileyana also offers some picnic fare in their store.

Time passed quickly — and off we went to The Cliffs for a much-needed shower and nap.

Morro Bay

We awoke refreshed, about a half-hour before sunset.  Lauren, who had previously lived in the area, took me to one of her favorite Shell Beach spots — a georgeous bluff overlooking drop-dead beautiful cliffs and beaches.  The city even provides barbecue grills and picnic tables — a reassuring sign that culture and civilization persist, even in today’s rude and chaotic world.

I fired up a grill, as the sun set to an array of warm, changing ocean and mountain colors.  Soon the lamb chops were cooking along with asparagus, baby red potatoes (with butter, wrapped in foil), and marinated garlic (also wrapped in foil).  I decanted an ‘85 Cos d’Estournel which had been waiting in my cellar the past 22 years.

What a supper!  Lauren had just finished an eight-week austerity diet, hence the dangerous bikini bod.  This dinner was a celebration of her favorite foods.  (For both our sakes, I kept portions moderate.)  And the wine?  Oy f***ing vey!

A perfectly aged Bordeaux is a beautiful thing to behold.  The ‘85 Cos had just hit its stride.  Its time was now.  No hard edges.  Layers and layers of subtle flavors — berries, spices, coffee, chocolate, more spices, oak, vanilla… the palate caressed by ever-so-gentle tannins and a finish that went on and on.  The chops came out tender and meaty, redolent of garlic and rosemary with just the slightest hint of balsamic marinade.  I kept the inside pink but charred the bone fat by turning them briefly on their sides, encouraging a quick searing flare-up.  Lauren and I ate the chops with our fingers and sipped our wine from stemless Reidl Bordeaux glasses, which I also recommend for camping as they’re harder to knock over and won’t break the bank if broken.

We took a late jacuzzi at The Cliffs (as mentioned at the start of our story), and then back to our ocean-front room, where we enjoyed a wonderfully romantic night followed by a good, sound, raccoon-free, sleep. Ahhh!

The next day, we took a short drive up the coast to Morro Bay — a fun, lazy coastal village built around a large placid body of water and a towering rock formation.

Lauren and I lunched at the famous Otter Rock Cafe and enjoyed their terrific Ortega chile burger — a prime example of a simple but perfectly done pleasure.  The modest restaurant/bar offers an ample selection of central coast wines, available by the glass.  I had the Wild Horse Pinot Noir while Lauren went for a potent Long Island iced tea.  From our window table, we could see humongous seals and zippy otters frolick in the bay.  Priceless!

And what the hell!  After lunch, we walked next door to the kayak rental place and (after some brief instruction) headed out into the bay, sharing a tandem model for some true ocean adventure.  The weather was calm and pleasant, and being out in the bay was positively restorative.  We saw more giant seals cavorting about, cute little otters munching on their backs, and various ocean birds — all up close.  Pelicans were much larger than they seemed at a distance.  We watched them catch fish which distended their throats.  Amazing!

Back to the hotel for little swim and jacuuz, then off to nearby Pismo Beach and Steamers Restaurant for a light supper, watching the sunset with waves crashing close enough to almost splash the windows.  I recommend their ciappino — a chunky, satisfying, seafood “soup.”

Fully invigorated, the next day’s drive back down the coast was wonderfully pleasant — until we hit the L.A. smog and traffic.  But it had been a truly wonderful anniversary trip for us on California’s beckoning Central coast.  We’re going back next month!

[Next time, we intend to carry some Shake-Away, a natural critter repellant which reportedly keeps raccoons and other intruders at a safe distance.  Also, to make "roughing it" even easier, we just ordered a self-erecting "pop-up" tent from Pinnacle Tents.]

Read Richard Elfman’s adventures with Christian Roguenant’s other wine: Rosenthal - The Malibu Estate.

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