Introducing Wine Culture and Business in Napa Valley (CA) to Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Introducing Wine Culture and Business in Napa Valley (CA) to Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget 

One of my family’s favorite places to go during summer when my daughter Florence was young was Napa Valley outside San Francisco.

Little Florence was not going drink wine, but I wanted her to know about wine culture, since it is important to California’s economy.

We had three destinations on our usual Napa itinerary – Sattui Winery, the Robert Mondavi Winery, and Trader Joe’s to buy wine.

Sattui Winery has been a San Francisco secret for decades, because they have a market with items such as terrines, pâtés, baguettes, French cheese, salami, mesclun salads, and made-to-order sandwiches in addition to Italian soda, French soda, and wine. 

You can eat on the premises at picnic tables or benches.  Sometimes bands play.  Children can always play here, making this a nice outing for children.

You used to be able to do wine tastings for free, but now that their wines have won several awards, and the winery is a stop on the Napa wine train, you have to pay for tastings.

There are some things to do after eating.  We would always walk around the vineyard with Florence.

“These stone buildings look like the ones you can see in Tuscany, Italy or Languedoc, France.  Daddy and I saw wineries like this one when we were on our honeymoon in Italy, France, and Spain,” I said.

We walked by the edges of the vineyards where I told Florence, “Never pick the grapes in a vineyard to eat.  That’s a huge no-no.”

Laurent laughed and said, “The vineyard owners might come after you with hunting dogs for eating grapes in the vineyard.”

“That’s not funny,” Florence said.

“It’s vineyard etiquette,” I said.  “You might get yelled at in French and chased with a pitchfork, if they don’t have the dogs out,” I said, continuing my vineyard etiquette lesson.

After inspecting the vineyards, we would cross the street and go to the Dean & Deluca brick-and-mortar store to get some Le Perroquet brown sugar cubes for tea.

We would always inspect the cheese section.  Barcelona and the Catalan region of Spain surrounding Barcelona were very fashionable when Florence was growing up, so we would get a Catalan cheese like Garrotxa to eat.

When I bought that, Florence called it, “The gross cheese.”

We have started eating at Tarla’s in downtown Napa now that Florence is older, but Sattui’s is still a nice place to go with younger children.

The next stop on our Napa wine tour was usually the Robert Mondavi Winery.  The winery is white and towering with lots of arches – perfect for fashion photos.

The tasting bar is full of San Francisco’s upwardly mobile professionals, who describe the wine they taste as “dancing on the tongue” and “having a luscious bouquet.”

Mondavi was a genius at marketing; all Napa wines are excellent, but he created cachet.  I just liked to see how he placed wine glasses, wine buckets, corkscrews, and towels together with wine carriers for al fresco dining.  I asked Florence what she liked on the table in the era of marketing to children.

“The glasses with the picture,” she said, referring to an etched glass with the Mondavi logo.  I knew from my work in marketing research that children like logos and being associated with prestige brands.  Florence’s remark just confirmed every kid’s love for designer anything I thought.

I looked at some of the winery’s more high-end merchandising, which featured a flowing Hermes-like scarf surrounded with bracelets and earrings.

“A lot of people get dressed up to drink wine,” I said to Florence.

“When are some of the times people get dressed up to drink wine?” I asked Florence.

“Weddings, baptisms, Christmas, Easter, birthday parties, and Sunday lunch,” Florence responded.

“It’s better for your liver to limit wine to those occasions,” I said to Florence.

On the way home, we would stop at Trader Joe’s to go wine shopping.  They had wines from all around the world on sale, but I would head to the Italian wine section.

I always bought some Barolos from the Piedmont region, which is considered Italy’s best red wine.  I would also get some Amarone wines from the Veneto region outside Venice.

We would also scout the shelves for some bottles of Grgich, one of the winners in the 1976 Paris Tasting that pitted Napa wines against French ones.  When Napa wines won, the Napa region became world famous.

By the time we bought the wine, we were sun-burnt and ready to go home with our Napa Valley booty.

By Ruth Paget, Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Enjoying Parisian Brunches at Cafe de la Presse in San Francisco (CA) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Enjoying Parisian Brunches at Cafe de la Presse in San Francisco (California) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget by Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

When Florence was young, my husband Laurent and I would take her to the Café de la Presse in San Francisco.

I would tell her that San Francisco is very Parisian for its literary scene like author talks at the City Lights Bookstore, museums, symphony, plays and musicals, and restaurants like Café de la Presse.

The Café de la Presse is jokingly called the “cantine” by French consulate employees.  (“Canteen”, meaning “lunchroom” in English).  The restaurant is famous for great daily specials that cost about $30 for a 3-course meal to fit the consulate employees’ per diem for food expenses.  On the weekend, the prices go up.

There is a huge parking garage by Café de la Presse, because it is located across the street from the main entrance to China Town.

You have to make reservations to eat in the lower level restaurant.  The upper level has a coffee bar, pastries, and magazines from the UK, US, France, and Italy.  You always arrive early to get some press to read.

We picked out our orders quickly and then looked like the Parisians that the Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva describes in her poems as only having eyebrows and foreheads visible behind their newspapers.

I would always buy Corriere della Sera newspaper from Milan, Italy to read.  The Italians know all the dirt and publish it first.  I have been able to read Italian at a high level for a long time.  

I smirked as I read this newspaper, because I knew the copies had been ordered for the Consul General.  I guess he would have to go to San Francisco’s North Beach Italian neighborhood for newspapers and pre-press gossip.

My family follows the Mediterranean Diet; it is easy to do in California.  I used the plan set out by the Oldways Preservation Trust and checked it out with a doctor before we started following it.  We came to Café de la Presse to get a once-a-month meal of fine steak.

The Med Diet Oldways describes is traditional only for the last 500 years, because American foods such as tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, and green beans have only been present in the Mediterranean diet since Columbus and subsequent explorers of the New World brought them back to Europe.

Every trip to Café de la Presse would come with a mini-nutrition lecture from mom, “Your main meal of the day should have a protein-carbohydrate-vegetable mix with the vegetable and carbohydrate forming an additional protein, if possible.  Calcium comes in the form of milk, cheese, and/or yogurt,” I said.

“What does protein do?” Florence would ask.

“It’s important for your hair.  If you want thick hair, you need to eat it,” I said.

“Why is calcium important?” Florence asked.

“Calcium builds strong bones,” I said.

I added, “Orange vegetables like carrots and butternut squash have vitamin A, which is important for vision.  Your generation really needs that for all the work you do on computers.  Spinach has iron for blood and muscles.  Cabbage and mushrooms both help with constipation.”

Laurent asked, “What are protein combinations?” with Gallic concern.

“Vegetarians combine the amino acids in plant items to get what you would in meat.  We eat these all the time – stuff like turmeric rice with peas, beans and rice, bean and vegetable soups with quinoa flour mixed in.  Sometimes I add chickpea flour, which has a lot of iron in it to soups and powdered milk for calcium as well,” I said.

“I know you make up menus for the week, but do you really have a plan for doing this?” Laurent asked.

“I do.  

Monday through Thursday, we eat things like omelets, pasta with Alfredo sauce, soup, and potato dishes and casseroles.

On Fridays, we eat fish and oven-baked potatoes.

On Saturdays, we eat chicken or pork.

On Sunday, we eat shrimp or scallops three times a month.  Once a month we eat red meat.

We’re not starving on this diet.  We’ve been eating this way for twenty years.  (Make that 30 years as of 2017),” I said.

After lunch, we would usually take a walk in China Town and buy Chinese music, postcards, and chopstick holders.

Walking is important to the Med Diet, too, I like to think.  

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Visiting the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco (CA) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Visiting the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco (CA) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

About every two or three months while Florence was growing up, my husband Laurent and I would go to the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco to show Florence the artwork from Central Asia, Southeast Asia, and East Asia that was linked with the literature and oral storytelling she was learning in her charter Waldorf School.

Florence was studying mythology and philosophy from such works as the Shahmaneh from Iran, Zarathustra’s Zend-Avesta from Iran, the Bhagavad Gita from India, Buddhist Jataka Tales from India, and Panchantranta Tales from Kashmir at school.  The children heard these stories told in oral form and acted them out with classmates.  In this way, they learned to inhere motives, behaviors, and their lines easily.

Florence also studied Japanese and Spanish language and culture at school.  I thought her Japanese teacher was doing a wonderful job and just supplemented the work she did at school with some activities at home.  I knew her teacher had taught the children about the Japanese tea ceremony and had brought in the utensils for the children to handle.

The Asian Art Museum has a real teahouse on display, and Florence always peeked through both sides that are open as if it were a dollhouse.  (I will write another blog on how I taught Florence about Japanese culture.)

The permanent collection of the Asian Art Museum is designed so that you start at the top floor with Hindu art from India.  Then, you work your way down the floors to Buddhism, which is an offshoot of Hinduism.  Buddha was a prince from the Ksatriya caste before he became Buddha.

Guan Yin, the Chinese earth goddess made into a Buddhist bhoddisatva, leads one into the art of China and East Asia.  She is sometimes portrayed as a man.  The Mahayana Buddhist Art (called “greater vehicle”) of China, Japan, and Korea is displayed first followed by the Theravada Buddhist art of Southeast Asia.  (Theravada is the preferred name of Hinayana Buddhism, which means “lesser vehicle.”)

There is not as much Vajrayana Buddhist art of Tibet here, but they do have some scary-faced protective deities to growl back at with kids.

I would always make sure that Florence, Laurent, and I would look at a statue of an Earth Touching Buddha, an iconographical statue mostly associated with Thailand.  The Buddha in this pose is captured at the moment where he acknowledges his enlightenment.

Mara, the demon of illusion, tried to keep Buddha from achieving enlightenment, but Buddha meditated and overcame Mara. 

I would show Florence various parts of the Buddha in the Earth Touching pose and say, “The bun of hair on top of his head, his elongated ears from wearing heavy jewelry, and his lovely, yet simple clothing all show that he was from the Ksatriya caste of kings and soldiers.  His hand touching the ground is a mudra, or hand position, showing that Buddha has defeated Mara, representing the illusory world.”

We all loved admiring the jade-green porcelain ware from Korea.

In the Southeast Asian section, Florence was most interested in the Javanese puppets from the wayang kulit, Javanese puppet theatre.  Traders in Java knew a top-dollar novelty when they saw one and took this art form around the world.  I had studied puppets when I was studying early children’s education and French children’s culture in Wisconsin.

I learned from my readings and interviews that there were puppet shows performed for the aristocracy and the common people.  Aristocratic stories revolved around teaching royal etiquette, royal prerogative, and fashion.  Royals could communicate with the populace through puppet shows.

Blurted comments in response to the puppet show might alert a sovereign to a fomenting revolution.  Family members who paid for these performances might be wishing to show their new ranking in a family, for instance, or their admission into the ranks of the local elite (i.e. aristocratic and royal overseers).

Basically, puppets were a kind of interactive television of their time.  Children set up a fourth wall between them and performers very easily, especially when you hold conversations between puppets and change voices.  I have tested this with dolls, teddy bears, paper bag puppets, and Barbie dolls; children just watch the dialog and forget that the puppeteer is there.

While Florence was looking at the Javanese puppets, I told her, “Their big eyes make it easy to see them in the back of an audience.  Their eyes also seem to glow, because the Javanese puppet performances went on all night long.

Make-up for the theatre is also done, so people in the back rows can see you.  People with small features, especially need to know how to use make-up for the theatre.

“In some cultures like Japan, the bunraku puppet theatre plays were turned into kabuki theatre for adults,” I told Florence.  “So, remember, puppets really are not child’s play alone.”

One of the most interesting exhibits we went to at the Asian Art Museum was devoted to the royal art of Afghanistan.  The art on display was called Ghandaran, because it uses Graeco-Roman style to portray Buddhist figures and concepts.  Florence laughed about the Buddhas and figures with moustaches and bulging muscles.

Outside the exhibit, there was an example of an archaeological dig set up for children.  Strings divided a sandbox where “artifacts” were buried in the sand.  Florence spent about 45 minutes digging up urns, bowls, necklaces, and swords.

“Now you have to be a real archaeologists and write a story about the kinds of people who made these things,” I said to Florence.

We always leave this museum happy and enlightened.

I recommend the teacher resources website for activities and information:

Education.asianart.org

(120 Lessons and Activities, 302 Artworks, 514 videos, and 190 Background Information Sheets)

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Hiking in Yosemite National Park (CA) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Hiking in Yosemite National Park (CA) with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Every spring when my daughter was small, my family would go to Yosemite National Park to see the Bridalveil Fall with its gushing waters from melting snow and hike among the giant sequoia trees.

It always seems to take forever to get into the park, but once we did, we headed straight to see Bridalveil Fall and the towering block of granite called El Capitan, that is famous as a screensaver on computer screens.

“El Capitan over there is granite,” I told Florence.  “It’s like the rocks out at Point Lobos in Carmel.  It’s an igneous rock.”

“That means a volcanic rock, right?” she asked.

“Yes.  It’s made from magma, also known as lava,” I said.

Florence knew all about volcanoes and igneous rocks from her class trip to Mount Lassen, a visit to a Stanford University geology professor’s lab, a visit to Stanford’s geology library, and her project on volcanoes that she did for the Monterey County Science Fair.

I would often show her photos from books of Ansel Adams photos of the Park in black and white before we visited.  “These mountain faces were made to look this way by rivers eroding, or wearing away, valley floors and by glaciers covering and then retreating from the area,” I said. 

Adams’ photos are very good at illustrating these points, because there are no distracting colors from flowers, for instance.  His photos of Yosemite Valley and the Tuolumne Meadows, which is described as a sub-Alpine meadow surrounded by majestic peaks and domes on the Park’s website, show depth and height with just black, white, and gray. 

Every visit to Yosemite required a visit to the Yosemite Museum where we could look at photos of the Miwok and Paiute people, who originally populated this region.  During tourist season, there is usually someone weaving baskets in this museum.

Finally, we would be off to the Mariposa Grove to walk among the towering sequoias in the dry heat of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

As we walked through the sequoias, I would tell Florence, “Did you know that in the Brazilian Rainforest, they say that there are tons of animals that live in the treetops that never come down to the ground.  That might be the same here.  What do you think might live in the tops of these trees?”

“Bugs, spiders, squirrels, and birds,” Florence replied.  I thought she must have started a biology unit at school for the rapid response she gave me.

I stretched my arms upward and said to Florence, “I am tall like a sequoia.”

“You’re little,” said Florence.

About six miles into Mariposa Grove, we would collectively decide that our legs hurt and we were tired.  “I love Yosemite, but you could also call this place ‘Yosemite Sore Legs,’” I said.  I thought that would be a good title for a cartoon series.

Once we hiked back six miles, we would eat a picnic lunch.  Laurent would tell me before each Yosemite visit, “Don’t bring the wicker picnic basket.  We’re going hiking.  Just bring the cooler.”

One thing I would not give up was using a nice, cotton tablecloth to cover the picnic table we would eat on.  In addition to looking nice, the tablecloth cuts down on insects coming to get your food from under the table and you do not have to eat on a table that might have bird droppings on it.

I would usually make ham and cheese sandwiches on a baguette with Orangina and water to drink.  We had Nutella to eat on baguette slices as dessert.

Before leaving the park, we would stop and look at the cross-section of a sequoia tree that had been cut down.

I would trace out a thicker band in the trunk and say, “Thicker bands show the years where there was lots of rainfall.  Thinner bands show the years where there was drought, or little rainfall.  Can you find some years with a lot of rainfall?” I asked Florence.

She would point some out.  Then, I’d ask, “What about drought years?”  She found those, too. 

After the sequoia trunk lesson, we would head home and stop in town to buy bear claw muffins to get some gooey carbohydrates after a workout in the woods.

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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Teaching Everyday Alchemy to Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget in San Juan Bautista (California) with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

Teaching Everyday Alchemy to Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget in San Juan Bautista (California) with Savvy Mom Ruth Paget

One day I received an invitation to attend an exhibit opening, lecture, and poem readings by artist Marsha Connell at the Galeria Tonantzin in San Juan Bautista, California and decided to take my young daughter Florence along.  Connell was working in collage at the time, which I thought might interest a young girl.

When we arrived, we admired the collages, which were devoted to various goddesses representing the sacred feminine.  We sipped glasses of orange juice amongst the wine drinkers around us.  I thought it was hard to deal with the sacred feminine when you are limited to photographs of models from fashion magazines.  Connell worked around this constraint by using travel photos as counterpoints and supplements to fashion magazine photos. 

“The travel photos are antidotes,” I thought to myself.

The gallery manager invited us to take seats and the lecture began on the alchemy of creation.  Connell talked about how she made new combinations of ordinary objects such as photos to create art objects.  She said she used this method for collage as well as poetry. 

She said she looks at the world around her and wrote poetry about the sacred feminine.  You have to know a little bit about California to understand the sacred feminine, especially if you have only been exposed to American feminist thought and interpretations of art.  When I arrived in California I quickly learned that you are either a feminist or goddess here.  I would add alchemist or poet to that selection of choices, too.

The sacred feminine is religious, taking in all faiths of women.  Religious women contrary to what many people think are well educated and teach children to read and do arithmetic.  They practice and perpetuate many art forms that the non-religious pay top dollar for in galleries.  Many poets in California have been inspired by the artistry of religious women and trace its origins back to the origins of time to goddess worship or the era when god when was a woman.  Both Marija Gimbutas and Elinor Gadon have researched and written about the sacred feminine for further research.

Connell read her poems about the sacred feminine and feminine strength to grand applause.  I thought to myself, “You have to be strong to cook every night after work.”  I agreed with her wholeheartedly about feminine strength.

After the lecture, I showed Florence one of the collages I liked.

“Miss Connell put the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus in this collage,” I remarked.

“Artemis is the goddess, who loves wilderness,” Florence said.

I laughed at how her vegetarian Waldorf School had changed Artemis the hunter into a wilderness lover and no doubt a tree hugger.

“Artemis was athletic.  She liked walking and hiking.  She’s a perfect goddess for California.  Would you like this collage if I bought it for you?” I asked.

“I might.  I’d like to check the other collages before we get it,” Florence said.

I told the gallery manager we would like to buy the collage, but we wanted to look at the other collages before making a final purchase.  Florence finally said she wanted the Artemis collage.

Marsha Connell came to speak with us.  “Every girl needs a goddess picture,” I said to Marsha Connell.

“It will encourage you to exercise,” Connell said.

“I love it.  It’s going up in my bedroom,” Florence said.

“I’ll give some examples of alchemy on the way out,” I joked with Connell.

That was Florence’s first question when we left the gallery.  “I’m still not sure what alchemy is,” she said.

“Well, for starters, you’ll hear people use that word all the time in California to describe their poetry writing, sculpting, painting, drawing, and so on.  Let’s do an Artemis walk to the ice cream store, and I’ll explain more,” I said.

“People have always been trying to make gold.  In the Middle Ages, they tried to change cheap lead into gold.  The people who did it were called alchemists.  Alchemy split into two parts. The scientists became chemists.  The failed gold makers became artists, who still produced things of value just not gold.  You do alchemy at your Waldorf School everyday,” I said.

“Like what.  I’ve never heard that word before,” Florence said.

“First you have done things in textile arts that would qualify as alchemy.  You have knit and crocheted carrier bags for your recorders.  You took a single piece of yarn and used your knowledge and skill to change it into a lovely and useful item to protect a musical instrument,” I said.

“I am beginning to get it,” Florence said.

“Another alchemical thing you do at school is woodworking.  You made you own knitting needles by sanding down the ends to a point.  Then, you put beeswax on the other ends in balls to make them pretty,” I said.

“What other alchemical things do we do at school?” Florence asked.

“You’ve made beeswax candles in a mold from lump beeswax,” I said.  I smiled thinking of the French people making German crafts.  The candles did smell good when they burned, but they irritated my eyes.

“Basically, when you make something that takes on a different shape or form from what you started with or create something where there was nothing before is alchemy.  Those haiku poems that you write with your Japanese teacher are alchemy, too,” I said.

“Give me some more examples,” Florence said.

“Okay.  The artist Picasso took a bicycle seat and handlebars and put them together to look like a bull’s head.  That’s the kind of alchemy Marsha Connell does with her collages,” I said.

“I do alchemy, too,” I ventured.

“No, you don’t,” Florence said.

“I can take a bowl of heavy cream, add a little sugar, and mix it with a blender to make whipped cream,” I said.

“That’s cooking.  That’s not art,” Florence remarked.

“The French consider cooking alchemy and an art,” I said.

“I like ice cream alchemy,” Florence said as we arrived at the ice cream shop

While we ate our double scoop ice creams outside, I continued with the alchemy lecture. 

“Another form of cooking alchemy is taking hard popcorn kernals and letting them pop in hot oil.  You get popcorn that is soft from doing that,” I said.

“Making an omelet from an egg is alchemy,” I said.

“I get it now,” Florence said.

“One last thing.  Making things nice for the holidays is alchemy.  You turn everyday life into art by cooking nice meals, decorating, and putting gifts together for the holidays.  The best alchemy of all is turning your life into art,” I said.

By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France

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