Ceci N'est Pas Un Chapeau (or, Wear a Hat, Get Birthday Cake)

One of the things I love best about living at Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage is that for your birthday everyone has to do what you say. Perhaps not the most grammatically graceful sentence, but there you are.

I asked for silly hats. And boy, did I get them! Thanks to everyone who played along and wore a hat, silly or otherwise, to celebrate my birthday!

Here are a few samples of what we're wearing here at DR:

Haley, Kyle ("hey, I had a hat, I had a mouse trap - they seemed to go together!") and Dylan

Jordan and Sheila, wearing the latest in box hats.

Tom wearing Cat IN the Hat, Grant sporting a fabulous pink number, and Lise wearing Cat ON the Hat.

Nani modeling her Saltines Hat. In the background, Cos and April (love those feathers!).

Morgan made this stunner himself. Love it!

Maya looking glamorous in the latest Armadillo hat.

Zane, Cynder with a Shoe Hat, and Jennifer & Alex with fabulous foam hats - they looked like castle heads...

Tim and Bethann (whose hat is Fun "E").

Kim looked divine in this lovely colander...

Mercantile Work Exchangers Morag, Jordan & Katherine slinging pizza in silly hat style!

Even Althea got into the spirit of things and wore her (hopefully clean) diaper on her head.

"Abdul" Orsillo kept cool while playing some hoops and eating cake.

Craig cleverly disguised as a British Bobby.

After making three AMAZING Queen of Sheba cakes Julie (shown here with Dan) decided that her shorts would work wonderfully as a hat. And really, who am I to argue?

Wonderful Food in San Francisco

Are you going to San Francisco? Forget about wearing flowers in your hair - that is so, well, yesterday. What you simply MUST do is stop by Olea.

A marvelous little restaurant on the corner of California and Larkin, Olea is run by Gabe Amaya and Glen Bolosan. Long before Olea opened, I got to know both Gabe and Glen when I worked with Gabe briefly at a not-to-be-named SF Ferry Building restaurant. I fell in love with their humor, their charm, and their unfailing adoration of good food, beautifully prepared.

San Francisco Magazine had this to say:

In his tiny open kitchen, chef Gabriel Amaya performs as an anti-showman, eschewing grand productions for endearing little numbers: farmers' market-driven dishes that are slightly more ambitious than what you'ld try at home. On a recent evening, rose-stewed manila clams gave off the smoky heat of bacon, green garlic and Peruvian peppers. Paper-thin flat-bread, freshly bronzed in the fire, arrived undressed, its flattering toppings (ricotta, roasted pear, sauteed bitter greens) offered on the side.

Amaya clearly has imagination--witness roast duck drizzled with orange-and-star anise honey--but simple demonstrations, like a beautifully done burger with housemade aioli, will convince you that it's all about you, not him. The service is spot-on, and the strains of Edith Piaf in the small, spare space enhance the restaurant's sweetness. In an age when very little seems to be undiscovered, Olea makes you feel like you're stumbled on a find.

So stop into Olea, and prepare to be delighted. Tell them Alline sent you.