Everyone seems to be excited about the three-day weekend. In celebration of her birthday, Heather, Brendan, Kevin, and Owen are off to visit Brendan’s sister in ski country. Michael and I think we will hide out, away from the crowds.  But of course, we don’t. Ojai whispers in my ear.

Ojai, being only thirty minutes away, beckons.  I make reservations at Suzanne’s Cuisine for noon. I have checked their website, and rave reviews are listed from Zagat, Gourmet, LA Times, Westways, Ventura County Star, Edible Ojai, Food & Home, Best Places Southern California, and Destinations Southern California.

“One of the best reasons to go to Ojai” – LA Times

“Suzanne’s Cuisine is made of love” – Gourmet

“Every savory bite brightens the sparkle in your partner’s eyes” – Zagat Survey

“A true gourmet destination” – Zagat Survey

What I fail to pay attention to at first (because my phone is small) is the dates.  None more recent than 2006. That’s a while ago — one can only hope.

Suzanne’s Cuisine

Being on time is hard to achieve in southern California, we always allow too much or too little time for traffic; we are never on time. We pull into the parking lot at 11:30 am,  “I don’t think they’ll mind,” I say, “the parking lot is empty.”

As we emerge from the car, we see a busload of people round the corner and head for the front door.  We shrug — don’t care.  In no hurry, we walk around back to see where the bus is from and see another parking lot. A parking lot full on both sides, with an array of cars approaching. A Corvette Club has seemingly descended on the restaurant — thirty-one people to be exact.  The restaurant expected seventeen.

Seated on the back terrace, as far away from the noisy group inside as possible, we settle in for another two-hour indulgence. I like the habit.  The restaurant has been closed for two weeks and only recently reopened.  A regular at the next table asks the waitress, “Do you remember how to cook?” 

The answer is yes.

As always, I’m so eager to dive in and experience the tastes I forget to take pictures of the beautifully presented food. The mussels in Thai green curry broth are tender, savory bites; the grilled salmon filet with citrus-honey glaze, served atop mixed greens, supreme orange slices, and shaved red onion, is perfectly cooked; the cheesecake, which I don’t need, is served with berries so fresh and so sweet I feel like I am back in Montreal.    

By the time we leave, the terrace is full of new patrons, and the restaurant inside is empty. 

Ojai Olive Oil Company

We head for the hills and the Ojai Olive Oil Company, driving through massive amounts of orange groves to reach the olives; we taste before we tour. 

An Array of Olive Oils

An array of products confronts me, from olive oil to soaps, to face creams, to eighteen-year-old balsamic vinegar from Modena; many of the offerings are enhanced with herbs or fruits.  I think the olive oils come from Europe because of their names, Provencale, Tuscan, and Andalusian.  Of course, I am wrong.  Each olive oil is made here, the difference being that the Provencale olive oil is made from French olive trees and is very mild; it is crafted from mostly Columella and Picholene olives.  The Spanish, Andalusian olive oil, the strongest with the pepperiest bite, is from 130-year-old Lechin de Sevilla trees. The middle-of-the-road Tuscan oil is crafted from Leccino, Pendolino, and Frantoio trees, purportedly the very finest varieties from Tuscany. They also offer their own blend. Of course, the only name familiar to me is Picholene — I love those olives.

Soaps

After tasting each oil and vinegar and tasting again, and asking Michael his preference, and trying to determine my own, I approach the register with an armload of various unflavored oils and vinegars. And soaps — fragrant soaps made from last year’s olive oil not sold for consumption, that are perfumed with lavender, lemon grass, and verbena. (The olives are crushed and made into oil the same day they are picked, and if this oil is not sold within twelve to eighteen months of bottling, it is turned into other products for the skin.)

Michael heads to the car to stash my purchases.

A Tour

The tour of the olive ranch is more of a lecture by a lovely French-English, German-educated owner with a charming lilting accent. We stand under the shade of the oldest olive trees on the property, listening; these gnarly twisted trees are young in the scheme of things, olive trees having a life span of a thousand years. We learn about hard work, high costs, love of the land, and a passion for life and community, along with hair conditioners, au pairs, and how to take the bitterness out of olives. Our teacher/owner is charming.

The Ojai Vineyard

Our afternoon has been full, but the sun is still high. So, we return to the tiny town of Ojai and the Ojai Vineyard tasting room; it is #95 on my list of the 101 Best Wineries in America. Ojai, a tourist destination with no place for tourist’s cars, is a tourist’s nightmare. Parking is a challenge, but Michael prevails.

Full to the point of popping, we share a tasting, and finally, true to my vow, I leave sans wine.

NOTE:

Suzanne’s Kitchen in Ojai is now permanently closed.

1/20/2015