July 2013
IMPROMPTU ROAD TRIP
It is Saturday morning and I have been chatting on the phone
with my friend Wendel for two hours when it suddenly hits me that this may
actually be a good weekend to visit her in Fresno.
Fresno is not a choice destination for many people and has
been referred to by some as “the armpit of California”. I am not exactly thrilled at the prospect of
driving for 4 or 5 hours to a place known for its record temperatures and where
the people generally have more provincial perspectives than those of say, San
Francisco. The impromptu road trip got a later start than I wanted, which I blame on Mercury in Retrograde. Wendel more accurately predicted my departure time than I was able to, despite Mercury’s movement. Score: Wendel 1; Naomi nada.
The long drive I was so worried about ended up being
great. I forgot how much I like to drive
while listening to music and chair dancing in my car. I start off from Sonoma County and head over
the Richmond Bridge, the cold, choppy waters feeling dangerously close at the
start of the bridge. As I go through
Oakland I hear Dave Chappelle’s “Welcome To Oakland” comedy bit replay in my
mind making me laugh. Here is a
shortened version for your mid-blog comedic entertainment:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfaV7tkLl60
Eventually the cities disappear and are replaced by long
lines of power generating windmills forming a striking scenery backdrop. A few blurry photographs are attempted. Golden grasses blanket undulating hills and I
notice one area where darkened grass creates a large cross with the words
“Jesus Saves” for all passing motorists to view as if to say, “Welcome to God’s
Country”.
At first I am unimpressed and cynical about the dry, dead
grasses, and bland landscape of small hills on one side and flat earth on the
other. Who would want to live here? This is the opposite of what I am in love
with: the lush jungle seeping, stalking, and steaming with life and raw
passion.
Something changes as I drive. Perhaps it starts with the memories that come
flooding back to me on the I-5; the excitement of meeting a long ago boyfriend
half way between San Francisco and Los Angeles or other road trip memories both
good and bad with friends and family.
Perhaps the music is adding an emotional element or my spirit has
relaxed enough to forget about the well-intentioned “Welcome” sign that feels
more like a warning. Something changes and everything becomes beautiful.
I am racing against time and the sun so I don’t stop for gas
or to stretch my legs. I am off the I-5
and driving on the 152 when I am forced to stop by the sheer beauty surrounding
me. It is the golden hour and the light
is made of dreams. The light infuses everything in a different manner: here it
washes the waving cornstalk fields with romantic whispers, there it exhales
ecstasy and kisses the sky passionately goodnight and a layer of diaphanous
delight descends over everything in delicate degrees. I brake hard and turn off the road onto a
gravel driveway where I stop my car and take a few photographs while breathing
the beauty into my soul. I know the
camera cannot capture what I feel inside but I try anyhow.
I continue watching the sunset fade and civil twilight
transition into nautical twilight as I drive from the 152 to the 99. I’m almost there and have not only made great
time, but have had a brilliant drive.
I’ll admit I stopped off when I was just a few miles away. This not only messed up my good time but
allowed exhaustion to sweep over me in those last minutes before arriving,
along with the realization that I am sweating from the central valley heat.
Wendel greets me and we have a wonderful, cozy evening talking, snacking, and catching
up in person before crashing out around 1:30 a.m. Seeing my friend has made a good drive
unquestionably great.
FORESTIERE
UNDERGROUND GARDENS
The next morning Wendel made a lovely breakfast of eggs,
bacon (my favourite!) and fried tomatoes along with coffee which we ate while
talking. We eased into the day and at
some point I got online to see what activities there were in Fresno. Normally I
would not do such a thing but I can only think my recent travels through
Central and South America have changed something in me without me even
noticing. I want to see what a place has
to offer. One activity caught my eye and we decided to check it out and join
the 4 o’clock tour.
The Forestiere Underground Gardens happened to be
conveniently located only about 10 minutes from where Wendel lives in the Fig
Garden District of Fresno. A chain link
fence surrounds the area and a faded sign is one of the only indications that
this is actually California’s Historical Landmark No. 916. I was a little confused if this was the right
place, but an arrow-shaped “Entrance” sign guided us through the 103 degree
Fresno heat.
We were amiably greeted by staff and made our way through
the entrance, down some steps, through stone archways to a larger room where
the front desk was situated. It is $15
per person for a guided tour, which is the only way to see the grounds.
The rock tunnels, archways and iron gates immediately
reminded me of places I had been to in Malta and tugged at my heart’s lust for
travel. Suddenly, the desire to see
Sicily overcame me. Italy and Malta were
quickly added to the list.
Our tour guide, Andrew, gathered the tour group into an
adjacent grand hall to tell us the history of the Forestiere Underground
Gardens. Its creator was a man named Baldassare
Forestiere, born in 1879 in Sicily. He
was the 2nd son born to a wealthy family but his father, a
traditionalist, gave everything to his firstborn son as was the custom. Baldassare decided to venture to America in
the early 1900’s to seek his own fortune and immigrated first to Boston where
his living was made by making tunnels.
He heard about San Joaquin Valley and journeyed to California, where he
became a ditch digger in Fresno. After a
few years of hard work he was able to buy 80 acres of land in Fresno with
intentions of cultivating citrus trees.
Baldassare waited patiently for spring to roll around for
the digging and planting to commence.
Spring arrived and, as he began to dig, his tools hit hardpan. Hardpan is a sedimentary rock that can be 3 –
5 feet deep. He realizes that he bought
80 acres of ROCK. I can only imagine
what must have been going through dear Baldassare’s mind at this moment!
In the summer of 1905, Fresno had record temperatures
reaching 115 degrees. Daily triple digits ranging from 105 – 115 degrees
transformed Fresno into a furnace. I
have this vision of Baldassare, King of his 80 acres of Promised Land for
citrus, digging this cursed rock in the brutal and unrelenting sun, sweat
running off his Sicilian muscles in rivulets onto the rocks below. My heart is going out for this man!
Many people thought Baldassare was crazy. A reporter from the Fresno Bee went out to
investigate what Baldassare was creating and came back with a piece titled
“Resort Underground”. While some thought
he was crazy, others recognized and applauded his genius.
In 1946 he got a hernia and while he was in recovery, he
contracted pneumonia and died. What
would become of Baldassare’s dream? His
siblings wanted to sell the land. His
brother, Giuseppe, played an integral part in preserving Baldassare’s dream
and, while 14 acres of tunnels were filled in, 6 were saved due to his efforts.
To this day it remains in the family and Giuseppe’s son Ric is still
around.
Baldassare’s creation astonished me. I was immediately
enchanted by the rock tunnels, winding paths, architecture and history of the
place, but it was more than this.
Recognizing that Baldassare did this primarily on his own using only
simple tools, hard physical labor, and a steely determination collaborating
with his creative vision is impressive.
I loved seeing this man’s home – his kitchen, bedrooms, but most of all
the dining area and bathroom with a tub where he could take hot showers with
water that had been heated above ground.
It was the perfect mixture of beauty and functionality; it was
eco-friendly but with a romantic edge, unlike many modern day imbalanced
creations.
I was impressed and longed to experience taking a bath in
that kind of atmosphere. Naturally, I wondered
if Baldassare invited any women over for a romantic dinner with a romantic bath
to follow. Why not? It was mentioned on the tour that he never
married, although later I read that he did have a few lady friends. He wasn’t exactly the hermit that others saw
him as, nor was he crazy. During the
initial orientation of our tour group, one man asked if he was crazy while making
the universal sign of forefinger rotating around his head. After seeing his creations, I think
Baldassare was one of the only sane people in Fresno. He had the wits to not only circumvent the
Fresno heat, and not only to transform 80 acres of rock into productive land,
but was also able to fashion his dreamscape into a reality – a feat not every
artist or engineer or dreamer can proclaim.
This place had a profound impact on me. It filled me with lust to travel to
Europe. It was a gorgeous reminder to be
more open-minded about other places in California, the U.S., or anywhere on
earth that might be considered an “armpit”.
I was so enthralled I even had a moment of clarity regarding why I am
not married - it is because my future husband was already dead. (Ha!)
While this place is only a fraction of what it once was (boo
for unenlightened siblings and yay for the one that understood beauty, genius,
and vision), it also only requires a fraction of imagination to grasp what this
place was like in its heyday and to have an appreciation for his
creations.
I adored the square skylight situated above a citrus tree
with rock carved and angled such that when it rained, it created a little
waterfall. Seeing grapes growing with
grapefruit or the tree with 7 variations of citrus – all a testament to his
master grafting skills – filled me with other-worldly amazement. The labyrinth of tunnels, a child’s
hide-and-seek dream come true, made me feel giddy. His aquarium with a sitting area below was
whimsical and delightful. Even the
terrazzo floor in one of the grand rooms helped me understand a story I had
heard while I was in Malta. My mom’s
cousin, Nick, mentioned the roof of their 400 or some odd year old house was
made of clay tiles, goat milk, and prickly pear leaves. It sounded like an unrealistic
combination. While looking up terrazzo,
I saw mention of its original Venetian form utilizing goat milk to seal marble
chips and clay. Perhaps it wasn’t so
crazy after all and who can dispute the recipe for a 400 year old roof?
I don’t want to give away too much more because the Forestiere
Underground Gardens is something to experience.
I truly hope that you do or at least find inspiration to see what
marvelous creations are in close proximity to you.
THE GOOD FALL, THE
GOOD NIÇOISE SALAD, AND THE GOOD WIFE
I think I had a small case of sensory overload from the tour
and that, combined with some uneven concrete in an adjacent side street, had me,
almost literally, head over heels. I
fell down hard before I even knew what happened and found myself on all fours
in the middle of Fresno trying to save my camera from a dip disaster. I wasn’t hurt aside from some hand/knee scratches
so my non-graceful pose ended up being pretty amusing. Why is it so funny when people fall?!
Wendel and I headed back to her place and while I uploaded
photographs and did other internet work, she made Niçoise Salad, which she
graciously allowed me to photograph, share with you all, and then eat. I think I got the good end of that deal! We ate dinner while she got me hooked on a TV
series called “The Good Wife”. I got
sucked in (Wendel laughed at my TV trance exclaiming she had forgotten how I get
around TV), and consumed it as voraciously as her Nicoise Salad and every other
adventura in Fresno, which had morphed from a joking into a very real FresYES.
I thought I was just going to visit an amazing friend and so much more came out
of it than expected. Who knew?
Thank you, Miss Wendelina!
You rock!
Nicoise Salad - Wendel Style
2 grilled or otherwise cooked tuna steaks* (8 oz each) or 2-3 cans of tuna
6 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and either halved or quartered
10 small new red potatoes (each about 2 inches in diameter, about 1 1/4 pounds total), each potato scrubbed and quartered
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Mixed greens or your favorite lettuce or base
3 small ripe tomatoes, chopped
1 small red onion, chopped
8 ounces green beans, stem ends trimmed and each bean halved crosswise
1/4 cup nicoise olives; I substitute pitted kalamata
2 Tbsp capers, rinsed and/or several anchovies (optional)
Marinate tuna steaks in a little olive oil for an hour. Heat a large skillet on medium high heat, or place on a hot grill. Cook the steaks 2 to 3 minutes on each side until cooked through.
Bring potatoes and 4 quarts cold water to boil in a large pot. Add 1 tablespoon salt and cook until potatoes are tender, 5 - 8 minutes. Transfer potatoes to a medium bowl with a slotted spoon (do not discard boiling water). Toss warm potatoes with 1/4 cup vinaigrette; set aside.
Return water to boil; add 1 tablespoon salt and green beans. Cook until tender but crisp, 3 to 5 minutes. Drain beans, transfer to reserved ice water, and let stand until just cool, about 30 seconds; dry beans well.
Arrange bed of mixed greens on a plate. Cut tuna into 1/2-inch thick slices, coat with vinaigrette. Mound tuna in center of lettuce, arrange tomatoes, olives, egg, capers, green beans, potatoes around the outside of tuna, drizzle with vinaigrette.*
I usually use a bottled dressing but if you are feeling adventurous, try this one:
Vinaigrette
1/2 cup lemon juice
3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium shallot, minced
1 Tbsp minced fresh thyme leaves
2 Tbsp minced fresh basil leaves
2 teaspoons minced fresh oregano leaves
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard; Salt and freshly ground black pepper
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