Cali-bound, Part One

You have to fly across the surface of the moon to get to California.

Or, as the cartographers call it, New Mexico and Arizona.

Here are some highlights of our recent westward expedition…

Home base: Fullerton, half-way up a mountain at Aunt & Uncle’s fab little mid-century abode, complete with Disneyland fireworks view, gourmet fare and cocktails at the ready. Couldn’t have asked for more gracious hosts: a fantastic cook and an easy-going tour guide/mixologist, to name just a couple of their many talents!
[To R & L: You guys ROCK!!!]

--Downtown L.A. Petersen Automotive Museum—A top-notch attraction for car buffs and design junkies alike (Love those hood ornaments!); Craft and Folk Art Museum—Tiny but I got to see what I came for: an assemblage exhibit featuring works by L.A. artists, including punk scenestress Exene Cervenka. Rich visual constructions elevating ordinary objects and the forgotten detritus of human life into a visual poetry of extraordinary compositions.

--Old Towne Orange. Browsed the antique shops around the Circle. Lunch at Watson Drugs & Soda Fountain (est. 1899 and seen in films like Tom Hanks’ “That Thing You Do”)—had a BLT with avocado...onion rings…and a shared chocolate malt…taste bud heaven and cardiac hell in one sitting. Bought some cool old keys at Muff’s, a crazy, packed-to-the-rafters vintage hardware store.

--Laguna Beach. Waded into the Pacific for the first time. And to this Florida gal, it’s cold. Like fishing beer bottles out of the cooler’s melted ice the morning after a party. But in Florida, you can’t stand in the surf while looking up at the big mountains in the distance. Nice.

--Pasadena. Gorgeous buildings, lovely landscapes. Gamble House: prime example of Arts & Crafts architecture cited prominently during my American art history college courses. Here I was, standing in that very house, marveling at the handiwork—and I do mean HANDIWORK. The craftsmanship in every beam and joint, every fixture, every windowpane, is breathtaking. And the “clinker bricks” on the back patio—so beautiful in their imperfection.
I’m in love with the Greene brothers for details like that.

Friday night’s big thrill: Reading quietly on the couch. A gentle shaking, barely discernible, lasting maybe 10 seconds if that, but nonetheless…kinda freaky.

“Aftershock,” Aunt proclaimed from the kitchen. Yorba Linda’s little quake earlier in the day finally caught up with us. Just a reminder from Mother Nature that humans ain’t as big shot as they think they are.

UP NEXT: More cool Cali excursions…

Hey there, Cupcake.

I, for one, am tickled pink to see the wave of cupcakeries blooming across this great nation. What could be better than a few bites of spongy goodness crowned with a cloud of toe-curling buttercream?

Cupcakes are an “affordable luxury,” in consumer-speak. What I really like about them is their lack of commitment—it’s like a Sweet Fling compared to the Long Haul. I mean—why be saddled with a WHOLE nutty carrot cake, when you just want a few minutes of deliciously spicy escape?

Jennie from the Block and I hit the road to see what Tampa had to offer in the way of sweet flings. Here’s what we found:

--The Cupcake Spot (also in St. Pete): “Doesn’t smell cupcakey,” Jennie proclaimed upon entering the strangely aroma-less bake shop. The lack of adornment in the plain pink, black and white storefront made the case of iced delights stand out like crown jewels. Go for the flavors. Jennie’s Chocolate Elvis was a hit: moist banana cake and surprisingly good peanut butter (!) icing capped with a little fudge pompadour. My Va-Va-Vanilla lacked va-va-voom; sure, the cake was fine but I’m a buttercream junkie. Theirs was too whippy; it needed more velvety heft. More Scarlett O’Hara, less Melanie Wilkes. Cuppy’s strawberry pink cake tasted like a childhood memory; I liked the sour cherry ball on top, but I still had to contend with that sad snowdrift of vanilla frosting. NEXT!

--Square One Burgers: Who knew our Battle of the Buttercream Champ in this round would be a sit-down burger joint with real cloth napkins (and to Jennie’s delight—Mr. Pibb on tap!)? The Creamy “Dreamy” Vanilla boasted a moist delicious cake AND a buttercream I can really get into—that paper-thin sugary crust that gives way to…well…my kind of heaven. The Chocolate’s tooth-rottingly sweet icing overpowered any real chocolate taste. Red Velvet missed the mark, but I’m hard on Red Velvet—very few bake up as good as Fannie Flagg’s recipe in her Fried Green Tomatoes cookbook. Jennie reached Cupcake Nirvana with the Carrot Pecan—hallelujah! (Their burgers are pretty good too.)

For additional choices close to home, check out “Sugar Fix in a Sarasota Alley,” on MySpace. (www.myspace.com/cortwrite)

In Savannah, look up the Cupcake Emporium on E. State St. Philadelphia’s got classic and creative flavors at The Flying Monkey in the Reading Terminal Market. SoCal bound? Try downtown Pasadena’s Dots on N. Fair Oaks and when you’re out antiquing in Old Towne Orange, stop at The Perfect Circle.

UP NEXT: California Dreamin'