It has made me wonder, if one flows into the other, whether there is a Purple Delta somewhere. Let’s take a moment and disabuse those of you who think that Ethiopian food is a plate of sand to be eaten with chopsticks. Unless – you are dining at the junction of sadism and greed. On Saturday, in honor of the beginning of summer, we engaged in waterborne recreation.
It has a lot in common with southern Indian food, a variety of savory stews and baked dishes with many excellent meat and veggie options. Everything they served came with a pretty decent kick. Because , despite the smiles and superficial hospitality they offered there, there’s one thing the good folks at Red Sea never got used to – free water. Charles and Lori picked us up at am for an invigorating drive up to the northern tip of the San Andreas fault.
We rented four aesthetically and hydrodynamically challenged sit-on-tops with rudders and put in at a rocky strand of a muddy beach.
We paddled out toward the mouth of the bay against both tide and wind. Old women and junkies were zipping past us as if we were standing still.
We didn't go far enough to see elk and didn't have the oarpower to go into the deepwater central channel where the whitecaps were breaking, but there were plenty of pelicans and cool unidentified seabirds, an osprey, plus several bat rays and leopard sharks churning the shallows where we paddled.
Everybody hosed down, cleaned up, toweled off and got dressed; we then had a lovely lunch at the Olema Farmhouse and I napped in the car coming back home. That's the sort of thing that makes life worth living.
Charles can make the ingredients in your multivitamins both interesting and actually informative, so these stories were rollicking sagas that had us well entertained as we rolled though the gorgeous countryside.
We got to the kayak place just after 9 am, signed in, signed waivers, put on wetsuits and spray jackets and reef shoes and PDFs (personal flotation devices, which we're told is the name for lifejackets now that they can't call them that anymore because someone drowned while wearing one and the survivors sued the manufacturer).
I was eating viet food and Lebanese food and questionable quality food and pretty much anything that crossed my path, which ranged wide and far and covered some pretty diverse territory. One of my special favorite places simultaneously to broaden both my perspective and my waistline was an Ethiopian place about a half mile west of my house called Red Sea. And I wasn’t in the least embarrassed to make such a fuss at the restaurant.
Ethiopian restaurants are overwhelmingly named either Blue Nile or Red Sea. Sometimes a glass of water can be the most important thing in the world.