In the Wake of Entitlement. World Premiere at Berkeley Rep

By Emma Krasov

Lisa Kron’s “In the Wake,” directed by Leigh Silverman, now playing at Berkeley Rep Roda Theatre, comes in the middle of the current presidential term, just in time for political reflections and contemplations, while the play focuses on two previous election periods and on historical and history-changing events, with a protagonist heavily engaged in political activism of the decade. Dialog-dense and discussion driven, the show nevertheless is as engaging as your regular action drama, mostly because the playwright’s words pin against each other opposite visceral and deeply-rooted beliefs, sometimes in unexpected carriers, which visibly resonate with the audience. A big part of this new production’s success comes from the talented cast organically engaged with the onstage happenings. While good-looking and well-adjusted Ellen (Heidi Schreck) follows her heart and her mind with a completely innocent sense of entitlement, everyone around her appears judged, neglected, or hurt by her seemingly straightforward and even enlightened way of living and relating to others. Her charming boyfriend Danny (Carson Elrod), her “friends-n-family” Kayla (Andrea Frankle) and Laurie (Danielle Skraastad), the love of her life Amy (Emily Donahoe), her older comrade-mentor Judy (Deirdre O’Connell) and even Judy’s teenage niece Tessa (Miriam F. Glover) all get a portion of Ellen’s unintentional patronizing, naturally occurring inner superiority, and sincere apologies for hurting other people’s feelings, inevitably coming a tad too late. When the closest people fall off Ellen like daisy petals in the eternal quest of love and love-not, she remains the center of her own universe, all alone, yet hardly capable of change. “In the Wake” is not to be missed through June 27 at Berkeley Rep Roda Theatre, 2015 Addison St., Berkeley. For tickets call 510-647-2949 or visit http://www.berkeleyrep.org/ Image: Heidi Schreck, Andrea Frankle, Miriam Glover, Danielle Skraastad, Carson Elrod and Dierdre O’Connell star in the world-premiere production of In the Wake, from the creators of Broadway’s Well. Photo courtesy of kevinberne.com

Bistro Central Parc Well-Loved by Neighborhood

By Emma Krasov, photography by Yuri Krasov
There is so much relativity in what’s big and what’s small. The entire world-famous city of San Francisco seems a kerchief-size neighborhood if you just came back from Asia (as I did right before having dinner at Bistro Central Parc). Yup, just a tiny little space on the Pacific Coast, and yet it has its own [miniscule] neighborhoods, each with its own weather, politics, and social structure. Take Western Addition, or rather NOPA (North of the Panhandle), called sometimes the Land of the Lost due to its remoteness from BART and MUNI. Who in the world would know what I am talking about but those who live in it and love it? But I digress. Bistro Central Parc is an ultimate neighborhood eatery, elegantly unassuming from the outside (even its name is written in half-visible script letters on the window), yet bustling with life on the inside, and filled with great French convivial atmosphere of joie de vivre. It comes as no surprise if you consider that Chef/Owner Jacques Manuera opened it after owning a widely popular Baker Street Bistro for 18 years.

Now, the NOPA dwellers are happily embracing his and Chef de Cuisine Nicolas Jardin’s traditional bistro dishes, from pungently sweet soup a l’oignon to perfectly medium rare filet mignon bathed in cognac-based sauce. While I was late for my reservation, due to my jet lag-induced coma, of course, I felt immediately better being seated at the polished metal bar and treated to a glass of Arboleda – a refreshingly complex sav blanc from Chile.
My bar neighbors, Michael and Debra, who live in the neighborhood for 32 years now and frequent the Bistro, were chatting with M. Jacques in-between their frisee aux lardons and risotto aux Coquille St. Jacques.
I was totally engaged with my artsy rabbit au jus, stuffed with spinach and little bits of foie gras. And then came the dessert.

What looked like a piece of thin yet stiff plastic mold to hold together an elaborate construction adorned with fresh strawberries and a golden caramel spiral, appeared to be also made of caramel, crunchy and edible. At my request, M. Jardin brought in an empty “plastic” form for a clearer (pun intended) view. Despite the extreme busy-ness, M. Jacques and his cheerful and courteous staff attended to every single guest, and at least three birthdays were celebrated that night in a tiny place that sits 34. My fun neighbors told me about the Bistro’s weekend brunch (Sat.-Sun. 9 am -3 pm) that spills outside, where there are 20 more seats for the admirers of NOPA’s morning fog, and I made a note to self to come again when I’m back to my normal waking hours.
Bistro Central Parc also offers a bargain-priced ($17.50) early bird three-course prix fixe Wed.-Sun. from 5 to 6 pm; is open on these days until 10:30 pm, and is located at 560 Central Ave., at the corner of Grove St., San Francisco. Call for reservations today at 415-931-7272.

On the Road to Occidental

By Emma Krasov, photography by Yuri Krasov
The Pacific was not pacified. Between the strong wind and the deafening sound of crushing waves there was no place for a peaceful stroll on a beach or a picnic under a rock. I had to scramble the initial plan and resort to just standing there, tightly draped in my pea coat, on an otherwise sunny summer day.
Watching the rabid sea foam rushing to reach my feet I remembered a popular warning to never turn one’s back to the ocean. There were cases… killer waves, rip currents, lost souls. Would I be able to outrun a charging beast?
A half-immersed rock in front of me resembled a sitting puma. I was staring at the bottle-green rolls of water, at the foamy plumes flying over the puma’s head, and trying to maintain a fragile balance between staying relatively wind-resistant and being swept away.
My fascination could have lasted for hours if it weren’t for the fact that we were running late for a social hour at the Inn at Occidental… So we had to hurry. We were heading down South from the Russian River delta, stopping at the beautiful beaches of the Sonoma Coast State Park from Furlong Gulch to Arched Rock Beach.
Upon looking at the map, my husband left it up to me to decide which road we should take to our destination: proceed to Highway 1 to the South or return to 116 to the North.
Not a big fan of straining my eyes over small-print maps I asked which road was shorter, faster, and straighter. In both cases we kind of follow a perimeter to get to the point right across from where we are, he said. I leaned over and looked at the map. The two highways, indeed, went around a big rectangular area, one from one side, one from another.
From where we were, though, the map showed a short if a little crooked road going straight to Occidental. Here, I said, we take Coleman Valley Road, and we’ll be there right before the first bottle of wine will be uncorked. My husband Yuri is not the guy who’s easily convinced. He said that it was a mountainous road and that we had no idea about its condition. He said we’ve never taken it before, and when in a hurry it’s always better to follow a familiar path. He also said that it would get dark soon, and if anything would happen to us there we wouldn’t even be able to send a SOS, since our cell phones went dead since Jenner. I checked out our resources. We had a bottle of water, a banana, and an apple which I already started eating to assist my thought process. Our gas tank was half-full. The road, it seemed, would take no more than half an hour. I realized that we might very well survive a night on the road should we get stranded there with no help. I was determined to take risks and explore. As his last argument, Yuri said that we wouldn’t even know where to turn to the Coleman Valley Road. I said that we wouldn’t be able to miss it, since there were no other roads going in that direction. The only one we would see to our left would be the correct one. And so we went. The very entrance to the road, like in a fairy tale, was framed with majestic old cypresses, whose branches intertwined above forming a dark passage. The thick trees were adorned with several warning signs. One of them was about a one-lane road, another one about a private road. It read: “Though County maintained, no right of way exists. If you are not staying on pavement you might be cited for trespassing.” Yet another sign warned against littering out the car window. I was just trying to get rid of the apple core rotting in my palm, and I knew it was kind of organic biodegradable waste, but the thought of an invisible road cam possibly watching my every move as a potential trespasser made me hold on to the apple remains and peer ahead to spot an approaching vehicle early enough to give it way while staying on the pavement. For a while, we haven’t seen anybody. Then a couple of bicyclists passed us by, turned off the pavement and sat on a boulder by the road, resting. Then we saw a deer crossing right in front of us.


Then I noticed an ocean view from the hill top, then a picturesque red-roof barn in the midst of emerald greenery, then old pines, yellow mustard flowers, and abundant forget-me-nots by the side of the road.
Soon we were at The Inn at Occidental, just in time for wine and cheese reception in its Victorian lounge decorated with period antiques and stacked with board games and popular astrology books.
When we shared our road adventure with Jerry and Tina Wolsborn, the Inn proprietors and our gracious hosts, they suggested yet another great sight in-between the town of Occidental and the Sonoma Coast. The Grove of the Old Trees, owned by a Sonoma County land conservancy, can be found off Coleman Valley Road, along Joy Road at Fitzpatrick Lane. It’s a charming little forest of redwood trees right on a hilltop, beautiful, quiet and serene, with secluded walking trails and even some picnic tables.
We were yet to discover it, now engaged with settling in our room and making plans for dinner. Every meticulously decorated room at the Inn has its own name and its own character.
Our Safari Room had giraffes and zebras painted on the wall behind the canopy bed, and wild cats on the opposite wall barred by bronze grills. There were stacks of vintage leather suitcases serving as night stands, and several African drums in the corner. Before it was too late for music, I had to indulge in a short impromptu drum session not fearing to wake up our neighbors. And then there were two armchairs on a deck hidden by wisteria flowers, overlooking a fountain in the courtyard, and Out of Africa soundtrack CD playing in the room, and cushions by the fireplace, and a Jacuzzi for two…
In time for dinner, we walked across the street to Bistro de Copains, a local staple, owned and operated by Michel Augsburger and Cluney Stagg.

Moules a la Crème, plump mussels in white wine and crème fraiche sauce with shallots and garlic, were followed by the house specialties – Boeuf en Doube a la Provencale and Poulet Fermiere au Vinaigre. In French country style, beef short rib braised in red wine was served in a cast iron cocotte, and delectable Rosie’s chicken in apple cider vinegar came in a skillet, sided by classic mashed potatoes and green beans. Russian River Valley 2007 Dutton-Goldfield pinot noir from the extensive and ever changing wine list perfectly complemented the food.
Next morning, a famed Inn at Occidental breakfast of homemade waffles, muffins, jams, juices, and freshly brewed coffee was served, as usual, in a spacious dining room downstairs, and the entire staff of the Inn was assisting guests with locating their chosen venues for the day on the map. Some headed for the winery tours and wine tasting, others for the Bodega Head with its dramatic rocks overlooking the ocean and covered with flowering aloe vera. Some were hoping for whale watching, others planned horseback riding or hiking and beach-combing, or visiting a harbor seal colony, or Armstrong Redwoods nearby. We had a set goal, and it was time to start packing for the road, but before leaving the hospitable Inn we asked to show us some of the just vacated rooms so we could make an informed decision where to stay next time.
A couple of years back, we stayed at the Sonoma Lodge room, pained the color of California sky, and decorated with birch branches over the bed, fishing nets and rods, a backpack, and other outdoorsy artifacts. This time we briefly glanced at the soothingly-green Leaf Umbrella Room, the luxurious Tiffany Room; the Ivory Room with its display case of ivory netsuke; the Sandwich Glass Suite showcasing a collection of the original sandwich glass, and the Marbles Suite with a boxful of antique marbles.
After careful consideration, both of us decided that we favored the Cirque du Sonoma Room with its circus memorabilia and toy clowns. Soon we were heading back to the Coleman Valley Road, now our favorite route to and from the town of Occidental. The Inn at Occidental is located at 3657 Church Street (Mailing: PO Box 857) Occidental, CA 95465-0857; Russian River Wine Region; 60 minutes north of the Golden Gate Bridge, minutes from the Sonoma Coast, redwoods, and wineries. Call for reservations 800-522-6324 or 707-874-1047 or visit http://www.innatoccidental.com/. Bistro de Copains: 3782 Bohemian Highway, Occidental, CA; 707-874-2436; http://www.bistrodecopains.com/.