The Harvest Fair

A lesson we should have learned and I'll discuss more later, is DO NOT let HRH take a loaded luggage cart down any type of a slope. The first indication came when I looked over my shoulder as we checked out and saw her, wearing her usual sheepish grin, come to a skittering stop at the base of a tiled ramp. But she rolled the cart out to the car and loaded the luggage, even though it indicated the last of the warm cookies.

The loss of Double Tree cookies seemed to have been salved by the location of the font of white-cupped caffeine drive through required by my companions. I may have mentioned that there was no DUNKIN' DONUTS coffee to be had. Nonetheless, we headed out to the Harvest Fair, the inspiration, if not reason for this girl trip. Sonoma County, known for wine, is a major agricultural center for California. I have to acknowledge seeing fresh produce in October holds a certain alien fascination.

But, I saw no indication the cows were any more content there than at home (Oh remind me later to tell you about the cow I saw trying to escape from her happy home near the Novato narrows) Not to mention how out of place corn fields appear among dun colored hillsides and deep blue skies in heart of Autumn. And far be it from me to point out we Midwesterners, do not find it necessary to declare ourselves the (fill in the blank) Capitol of the World, for everything we grow.

Still, we do love fairs. After all, 2004 USA Today declared the Iowa State Fair #2 in the top ten places Americans should visit. It was a natural fit for two Midwesterners and one homesick Californian to spend the day. It was very different and yet oddly familiar from my fair experience.

There was a display and tasting for apples and wine. A small playground with midway rides for the kiddies. A display of antique cars, which had to rank as one of my favorite bits, don't ask me how I managed to not get any pictures of it. We wandered through a sort of "varied industries building" including crystals, handmade jewelry, artwork, and home improvement displays.

When we tired of exploring and it was time to eat HRH went off to Johnny Garlic's stand (the restaurant owned by the Triple D Guy from the food network) and CaDiva and I went off to Willie Birds for a shared Jumbo turkey leg. I'm telling you, I swear they had crossed this thing with an ostrich. And there, as we ate, we discovered the strongest commonality with our fair experience...PEOPLE WATCHING.

Youngsters dashing about with unending energy, young women who thought platform heels and tank tops make a good choice for a fairground, food spattered tops, and tall silly hats. I do love a fair concourse.

Somehow we missed Mom's Apple Pie, which was high on our places to eat. But we did get to see the wine stomp. This is a competition of pairs (stomper and swabby) to see who can get the most juice from a half barrel filled with grapes. The stomper can only use his or her feet while the swabby holds the bottle and keeps the screen clear of pulp and pushes the juice to the funnel. There was also a costume competition which ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous.



We had the pleasure to watch the Blues Girls and two pairs of the six member Grape Stomp Virgins teams in competition. The champions ended up producing over 20 ounces of grape juice in the 10 minutes (it may have been three or twenty...I don't remember, we were laughing and cheering too loud to listen to the rules). My favorite part was one swabby, covered over with pulp and juice in her hair, along her arm, down her front and up her back, looked at her partner, pristine except for some tinting of the ankles and feet, and picked up a couple of hands full of pulp and flung it at her. Revenge was never so sweetly observed.

The day was a success and we poured ourselves back into the car and headed down to San Francisco. Tomorrow was the long anticipated Sunday Brunch and Bay Cruise.