Easter Sweet Treats In The City

Dashing about the city this past weekend, determined to whittle away at my list of errands, I could not fail to notice the enchanting decorations and baked goods which filled the shops and bakeries in anticipation of Easter.   

My first port of call was the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market early on Saturday morning, where I spotted this stylish gentleman going about his business.

Surely, a 'Best Dressed' award is owed to this exquisitely turned out gentleman

Photo: Chronica Domus

Alongside the usual weekly purchases of fruits and vegetables, I popped one of these charming foil-wrapped chocolate rabbits into my wicker market basket. He will be secreted away until Easter morning when he will make a welcome appearance in Patience's Easter basket.

A colony of foil-wrapped chocolate rabbits

Photo: Chronica Domus

Yet more rabbits, of the marzipan variety, are grouped together on a green glass cake stand

Photo: Chronica Domus

Rabbits, of course, are a popular symbol of Easter here in the United States.  When I was growing up in England, it was all about the egg.  Every confectioner worth their salt would manufacture hollow-shelled chocolate eggs and fill them with all manner of sugary concoctions and small toys. Attractively decorated in piped sugar icing or colorful foil, the eggs were the apple of every child's eye. Enthusiastically snapped up by eager parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts, they were presented to junior members of the family.  I recall my sisters and I receiving many such ovoid treats in the run up to Easter, and the excruciating wait we endured until the big day arrived when we could finally devour them with gusto.

What child would not delight in receiving one of these charming confectionery laden baskets early on Easter morning?

Photo: Chronica Domus

I noticed that the freshly cut flowers for sale at the farmers' market possessed an air of Eastertide about them.

Bunches of pastel colored ranunculus and anemones reminded me of dyed Easter eggs awaiting the hunt

Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

Out and about again on Sunday, my family and I enjoyed lunch in the North Beach area of the city which is famed for its Italian restaurants and food markets.

If you are in the mood for old-fashioned Italian comfort food, I highly recommend a leisurely lunch at Piazza Pellegrini where everything is delizioso!

Photo: Chronica Domus

A postprandial saunter around Washington Square found us greeting this rather amiable fellow:

A friendly dog mascaraing as an Easter lamb

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A partial view of Washington Square with the twin spires of Saints Peter and Paul church framed against gray skies

Photo: Chronica Domus

I was delighted to spot a familiar baked Easter specialty when we made a pit-stop into Victoria Pastry Company, an Italian bakery in operation since 1914 and located at the edge of Washington Square.

Candied citrus peel provided an unexpected Italian twist to this English Easter treat

Photo: Chronica Domus

A tempting tray of hot cross buns was calling my name.  Well, perhaps not the entire tray.  It has been many years since I've seen these buns for sale though I recall eating untold numbers of them in England where they remain a popular Easter baked treat.  The sweet spiced current-laden buns are sold by practically every baker in the land on Good Friday, when they are traditionally consumed. As you may already know, I champion tradition, but I was not prepared to wait another two weeks to eat my prize.  I happily shared it with Patience upon our return home, where she quickly proclaimed it to be scrumptiously delicious.

"Hot cross buns, hot cross buns, one a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns"

Photo: Chronica Domus

Tell me, do you have a particular favorite Easter sweet treat that you look forward to sampling at this time of year?

Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.

What's Blooming Inside: Drifts of Snowy Daffodils

Photo: Chronica Domus

I have written about my favorite flower, the humble daffodil, extensively in the past and cannot help but rejoice in its understated yet elegant beauty each spring.  I am not talking about the overly-hybridized modern daffodil, mind you.  No, not at all!  I am, in fact, referring to those lesser-known, older varieties which I champion whenever opportunity arises.

When in bloom narcissus Thalia is like a spring snow drift

Photo: Chronica Domus

There has been a succession of daffodils blooming in the garden since late December.  As each variety fades, another awaits patiently in the wings to take center stage. Presently, my favorite of the snowy-whites, narcissus Thalia, is putting on a blinding display.

Thalia is a heritage daffodil, having been registered in Holland in 1916, and thus an appropriate addition to the garden of our house which was built in 1925. Her nodding star-shaped blooms are simply breathtaking in their elegance.  Her color is a true white, not cream or ivory. She is as pure (white) as the driven snow.  I consider Thalia to be inherently demure within the world of flowers.  In fact, if her name were not Thalia, I would have named her Audrey, as in Hepburn.

Pure as the driven snow

Audrey Hepburn in 'The Nun's Story'

Source

Thalia's exquisite scent is equally delicate and does not overwhelm the olfactory sense.  Do please give consideration to these older strains of daffodil when planting your own spring garden for I just know that you too will be rewarded tenfold for your efforts. Just to prove it, you'll be delighted to learn that Thalia possesses a generous spirit. She happily obliges in spreading her snowy-white wings, naturalizing to great effect within a few short years.

I can think of no more pleasurable experience than cultivating one's own flowers and reveling in the satisfying and humbling act of gathering a small handful to bring indoors.  Just look how Thalia enlivens a corner of the drawing room.

A pretty posy of narcissus Thalia sits atop a table in the drawing room

Photo: Chronica Domus

The flowering branches I purchased a few weeks ago for our dinner party are still going strong and impart an air of spring to the dining room

Photo: Chronica Domus

And, although I did not grow the mixed yellow bunches of daffodils seen in the photograph below, gathered in English earthenware milk jugs and resting on the kitchen counter, I was fortunate to have captured their ephemeral beauty saturated in early morning light, the golden hour.  The blooms were a much appreciated gift from my thoughtful husband who knows me too well.  I'm simply mad for daffs!

Golden daffodils fittingly bathed in golden morning light

Photo: Chronica Domus

Tell me, do you grow your own daffodils or buy them by the armload at this most glorious time of year?

The Daffodils

William Wordsworth 

1770 - 1850

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of the bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A Poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed-and gazed-but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Opening Party: All Roads Lead To Rome Exhibition

Photo: Chronica Domus

In October 2014, I wrote a post about attending the San Francisco Fall Antiques Show and how I was enamored by the jaw-dropping items for sale at Mr. David Weingarten and Ms. Lucia Howard's booth, Piraneseum.  It turns out that Mr. Weingarten had read my post and contacted me to express his thanks for my "generous words and photographs".  Of course, I was only too delighted to give praise where praise was due.

What was not obvious to me back then, as I ogled Piraneseum's covet-worthy offerings, was that the items on view were just a drop in the bucket of the sizable private collection belonging to Mr. Weingarten and Ms. Howard.  It appears that the collection has now attracted the attentions of the SFO Museum, and justifiably so.

Yesterday afternoon, my husband and I spent a very pleasant few hours as guests of Mr. Weingarten and Ms. Howard attending the opening party of the museum's latest exhibition All Roads Lead To Rome, 17th-19th Century Architectural Souvenirs from the collection of Piraneseum. Fittingly, the three vitrines which display the fascinating array of architectural models and Grand Tour souvenirs are located within San Francisco Airport's International Terminal where many of the travelers scurrying by will no doubt continue the long-held tradition of buying mementos and souvenirs from their own travels.

The well-attended opening event of the exhibition was held within San Francisco Airport's Aviation Museum 

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sponsored by the Northern California chapter of the Institute of Classical Architecture & Art, the event kicked off with a drinks and hors d'oeuvres reception where attendees chit-chatted and mingled. There were several recognizable faces in the crowd, many of those being seasoned supporters of the local arts and antiques scene, architects, and even the Italian Consulate General of San Francisco.  I was particularly delighted to have been introduced to these two.

Mr. Tim O'Brien who brilliantly curated today's exhibition, and Ms. Suzanna Allen who so graciously modeled the well-written and sumptuously illustrated exhibition catalog

Photo: Chronica Domus

Ms. Susan Doherty's blouse, depicting assorted Roman tableau, was sartorially perfect for the event;

Ms. Doherty is the program chair of the American Decorative Arts Forum in Northern California and I had the pleasure of chatting with her on our shared interest, American Federal and English Regency furniture

Photo: Chronica Domus

Ms. Lucia Howard gave a talk about the artworks on display, which consist of more than seventy pieces focused on Roman monuments and architecture.  This truly is a remarkable collection of Grand Tour souvenirs and specially commissioned pieces which were intended as extravagant gifts. During the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth century, it was all the rage for wealthy young (mainly British) men  to embark on a tour of Europe's cultural centers as part of their education. Many of them delighted in acquiring mementos of their travels which spanned the gamut of modest plaster intaglios, small-scale models of important architectural structures, and even full-blown oil paintings. I was enchanted to see so many capriccio, or fantasy paintings, of ancient monuments included in the exhibition.

Panini's Capriccio View of Ancient Roman Monuments (circa 1755) as seen in the lavishly illustrated exhibition catalog

Photo: Chronica Domus

Following Ms. Howard's talk, we were ushered to the main event, the three vitrines chock-full of extraordinary artworks like this:

Temple of Vespasian and Titus, circa 1860

Photo: Chronica Domus

and this:

The impressively scaled - at forty inches in height - Flaminian Obelisk constructed of antique specimen marbles and gilded metal, circa 1820

Photo: Chronica Domus 

and this:

A nineteenth century Carrara marble model of Rome's Navicella, meaning 'little ship', Fountain

Photo: Chronica Domus

An alabaster model of one of the more recognizable buildings of the Roman Empire, The Colosseum, circa 1880

Photo: Chronica Domus

Ms. Lucia Howard and her captive audience tour the vitrines

Photo: Chronica Domus

As you can see from the few (poor) photographs that accompany this post, All Roads Lead To Rome is a not-to-be-missed exhibition.  And, for those who wish to view it but are not jet-set bound, you are in luck.  The vitrines are located on Level 3 (pre-security) of San Francisco Airport's International Terminal and can be accessed by the public at large through August 13, 2017.  Please do take the time to peruse this extraordinary private collection of paintings, etchings, architectural models, and other Grand Tour delights which provide a satisfying glimpse of Rome's ancient splendors.

I would like to thank Ms. Lucia Howard and Mr. David Weingarten for so graciously inviting my husband and me along to what was a supremely enjoyable and rather swell opening event in celebration of this must-see exhibition.

Ms. Lucia Howard and Mr. David Weingarten

Photo: Chronica Domus

Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.

Whiteout At Lake Tahoe

Friday's headline news should have tipped us off for what lay ahead

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our continuing adventures in hot pursuit of some snow fun had us finally arriving in South Lake Tahoe this past Friday.  You may recall reading about our fruitless attempt to venture there several weeks ago, and the disastrous mudslides that closed the main highways into the Sierra Nevada mountains, along with the ensuing mayhem suffered by thousands of fellow car-bound snow seekers. We gladly put those shenanigans behind us - or so we thought - in hopes of witnessing one of the deepest snowpacks in recent memory. Astonishingly, the pack is at 186% of normal which is expected to see skiers on the slopes until July's Independence Day holiday.  What a winter this has turned out to be!

On Saturday morning, after tucking into a filling breakfast at our hotel, so conveniently situated at the base of Heavenly Mountain Ski Resort, we headed outdoors to catch a ride up the mountain.

Nope, we won't be catching sight of Heavenly Mountain's summit today!

Photo: Chronica Domus

As luck would have it, today was not the day to be darkening the doors of the gondola which we had expected to take us on a scenic 2.4 mile ride up the side of the spectacular mountain. Despite the sunny conditions, a severe winter storm warning with high winds was in effect which meant only skiers were permitted on the mountain.  As not everyone in our little party would be skiing, we were advised to try our luck the following day. Ah well, it was time to implement Plan B.

Not ones to miss an opportunity for exploration, we hopped into the Volvo and away we drove in search of adventure.  Across the California-Nevada border and over mountainous terrain we went in the direction of Carson City, Nevada's capital city.  As you can see below, the desert area stands in stark contrast to Lake Tahoe's forested snow-covered landscape.  It was also a balmy forty degrees warmer.

The sight of this hunk of ice along the desert road was quite a curiosity, apparently having fallen from the roof of a passing car

Photo: Chronica Domus

After lunch, we meandered across the mountains and back towards Lake Tahoe, stopping to take in the majestic views of the lake.

Photo: Chronica Domus

 Photo: Chronica Domus

Your eyes do not deceive, this is indeed a beach of snow

Photo: Chronica Domus

By now, we could feel the beginnings of the winter storm brewing.  The howling winds were barrelling down the mountains and the sun's weakened rays had given way to gloomy skies.  The mercury had also plunged notably, and rapidly.

There was one silver lining to lessen the disappointment of not having access to the other snow activities high up on Heavenly Mountain. Our daughter Patience was overjoyed to have her up-for-anything parents join her in a spot of snow saucering.  For those of you that have no idea what this entails, all I can say is that you should A) be prepared to take your life into your own hands, B) steady yourself to look very "uncool" in the eyes of everyone but a teenager, and C) be prepared to belly laugh like a deranged lunatic all the way down a slippery snowy slope, at great speed, while sat atop a plastic saucer more often than not travelling backwards.  I must tell you, it was a very liberating experience to say nothing of the fact that my daughter's estimation of her over-the-hill parents just went up several notches.  Although photographic evidence of this gentle author whizzing down the mountain on said saucer does exist, I am opting to keep that part of our adventure private. One does, after all, have a certain image to maintain.

On Saturday evening, the first flakes of snow began to fall.

The decorative iron street grates looked enchanting with a light dusting of snow

Photo: Chronica Domus 

By Sunday morning, our motor car was buried in two feet of snow, just in time for our journey home.

Our Volvo is under there somewhere

Photo: Chronica Domus

Our timing was impeccable; the drive home was a whiteout.  It took us four hours to crawl along seven miles of connecting road because of an ominous sounding "avalanche control" exercise taking place further into the mountains, temporarily closing the highway.  Listening to the distant booming sound of explosives shattering the silence as snow continued falling was surreal.

Once the road opened, we continued our grind home at a steady ten miles per hour in twenty degree temperatures.

I just missed snapping the thermometer as it dipped to twenty degrees Fahrenheit resulting in the windshield wipers freezing up with blocks of ice

Photo: Chronica Domus

Here is the view from the front passenger seat just before the windshield wipers froze:

At this point, conditions were actually getting quite unnerving, having already slid off the road and into a ditch once, and now having to brace the bone-chilling cold to chip away frozen ice from the windshield wipers every few miles
Photo: Chronica Domus

I question our judgment when I look at this insanely beautiful but hazardous mountainous road we safely negotiated, to much relief, with the help of our ever-trusty AWD Volvo wagon  

Photo: Chronica Domus

It was several more hours before we were out of the eye of the storm.  I counted our lucky stars upon making it safely through.  It was all so worth it for the views that awaited us were dazzling.  Surely, we had entered the Land of Narnia.

 Photo: Chronica Domus

 Photo: Chronica Domus

  Photo: Chronica Domus

  I was half expecting Mr Tumnus to appear from beyond the trees

Photo: Chronica Domus

 The serenity of a snowy winter landscape is unmatched in its beauty

Photo: Chronica Domus

After viewing the world through a monochromatic lens for the entirety of our journey, it was with welcome relief that we spotted a jolt of early spring color during a brief pit stop at the small gold mining town of Placerville.

Spring meets winter with the last remnants of snow at the feet of cheery yellow daffodils

Photo: Chronica Domus

Arriving home late on Sunday evening, we were glad for the adventure we had shared.  Our long weekend was not exactly how we had imagined it to be, faffing about in the powder on top of the mountain, but on reflection, I don't think I would have changed an action-packed minute of it. I am, however, suddenly hankering for a stint on a warm tropical beach.


Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.

Dining Table Inspiration from The Original Wedgwood Pattern Book

Last Saturday we had the great pleasure of entertaining good friends at home for drinks and dinner. We were six at table that evening and as spring was almost upon us, I chose to decorate the dining room with flowering spring blooms and branches laden with blossom. An early Friday morning jaunt to the San Francisco Flower Market yielded exactly what I had hoped to find.

Three plump bunches of blue hyacinths await arranging

Chronica Domus

I procured the blue hyacinths specifically to complement the dinner plates I intended on using the following evening.  These beautiful plates were acquired last year and this was to be their inaugural coming out party.   I know I've sworn many times to ignore the heady siren call of a pretty table object, and I do recognize that my escalating problem vice is something I'm not particularly proud of, but I ask you, how could I have possibly passed these up?  

A view of the rim decoration - notice how the delicate hand-painted detail is achieved through the meticulous application of two differing shades of blue enamel paint, and three of brown

Photo: Chronica Domus

When I first examined the plates I was delighted to find that each - there's a baker's dozen in all - was in excellent condition. This is not often the case with early pieces of creamware, their weight being more akin to a pastry shell than the heft one expects of a conventional dinner plate.  The bluebell-like decoration reminded me of my bluebell picking days as a young girl living in the Kent countryside. Perhaps that is why they called to me.

Having a curious mind and an eye for detail, I was keen to learn about the hand-painted pattern and the exact age of these plates.  My first clue led me to their underside where a 'WEDGWOOD' mark, alongside some random letters, is impressed into the clay.  

Fortunately, for fellow crazed fanatics of early Wedgwood tablewares, a rather wonderful on-line resource awaits discovery.  The Wedgwood Museum Trust has cataloged their early archive of ceramics, along with a host of other related items, for our viewing pleasure and edification.

My rudimentary search of the collections yielded similarly patterned plates, referred to as "Queen's ware, cream colored earthenware", but nothing that was an exact match to my own.  In a bid to learn more, I contacted the museum in hopes of enlightenment and was overjoyed when Ms. Lucy Lead, an archivist at the Wedgwood Museum in Barlaston, Staffordshire, responded to my inquiry.  

With a little sleuthing, Ms. Lead - so aptly named for per chosen profession - generously provided me with a liberal dose of delicious detail about my creamware dishes. Not only that, she kindly sent along the following photograph, taken directly from the original tableware pattern book of Josiah Wedgwood. Here it is:

A detailed image of Josiah Wedgwood's original tableware pattern book showing the hand-painted pattern of my dinner plates, Pattern 96, located at middle right

Photo: Courtesy of Ms. Lucy Lead

   ©Wedgwood Museum/ WWRD

I was elated by the opportunity to scrutinize the detail from Pattern Book Number One, the actual reference book that Josiah Wedgwood's early clientele used when selecting and placing their tableware orders. Each blank creamware item was then decorated by hand before being carefully packed and delivered to its new owner.  Ms. Lead also informed me that my plates were made sometime in the late-eighteenth to early-nineteenth century, and are described in the pattern book as "Hyacinth blue, leaves brown, and broad and fine lines brown". This was quite a revelation as I had wrongfully assumed the flowers to have been bluebells and not hyacinths.  

Aha! Proof indeed that the flower depicted on the creamware dishes is a hyacinth and not a bluebell as I had intially believed it to be

Photo: Chronica Domus

Ms. Lead also thought it might interest me to learn that the pattern was also reproduced in a green colorway, Pattern 97, which is also recorded in the above image.  The random letters visible on the underside of my plates, small impressed 'B' and 'P' marks, are potter's marks, and relate to the worker that actually made the plate. Ms. Lead went onto tell me that sadly, the information of exactly which marks belonged to which potter had long been lost.  

As you can imagine, I was all the more overjoyed to set my dining table with such handsome dishes, knowing far more about their history and design than I would have had I not reached out to Ms. Lead. Although our guests did remark on how very pretty the two arrangements of hyacinths were, I did not choose to over-burden them with the detail of how I was inspired by the beauty of Josiah Wedgwood's vision and his original pattern book when setting our communal table that evening. Instead, I reserve that little tale for readers of this blog. 

On the morning after our dinner party I was delighted to see the hyacinths, arranged in a pair of Regency wine rinsers unfurled, revealing their full beauty and intoxicating scent*

Photo: Chronica Domus 

Thank you once again Ms. Lucy Lead for satiating my curiosity and for your generous research efforts which yielded such fascinating information.  I am ever in your debt.

*For the comfort of one's guests, I do not recommend placing heavily-scented flowers on the dining table.  However, in this instance, I correctly calculated that the tightly closed bunches of hyacinths I purchased on Friday would not be fully open by the time we sat down to dinner on Saturday evening