Once a Valley Girl...

By Beth Adams
May 7, 2008
0806_sanjose
Beth Adams lives in Brooklyn now, but she hasn't lost sight of her Silicon Valley roots. Here's how to enjoy San Jose her way.

A century ago, what's now Silicon Valley, Calif., was called the Valley of Heart's Delight because of the region's mineral-rich soil and temperate climate (San Jose gets 300 days of sunshine a year). By the time I left for college in 1997, however, most of the cherry orchards had been gobbled up by office complexes. San Jose was in the hopeful early stages of the Internet boom, and although I didn't have an e-mail account yet, the technological advances that would change the world were already making their mark on my hometown.

The city has actually attracted techies for decades; my parents moved to the area for my dad's aerospace job in the 1970s. But with the rise of the dot-coms came something new: money—and lots of it. Suddenly, San Jose wanted to be recognized for more than its proximity to San Francisco. (We're an hour south, for the record.) Today, the city is teeming with evidence of civic success: sleek glass buildings, luxury condos, and light-rail trains.

Fashionistas with tech-stock options have plenty of places to find designer duds at Santana Row, a high-end shopping center. But I prefer browsing Willow Glen, a neighborhood of bungalows and boutiques that was incorporated into San Jose in 1936. My first stop is usually Monsieur Beans, a café with mismatched couches and an arcade-style Ms. Pac-Man machine. "We mostly get locals," says manager Chris Mendez. "I know everyone's first name and their drink of choice."

Directly across Lincoln Avenue is Willow Glen Books, which is pretty much the last independent bookstore in the area. The shop stocks local-interest books written by San Jose natives and holds regular poetry readings. Owner Cathy Adkins feels the pinch from online competitors, but she insists, "This is how I want to spend my time—this is what I love." She makes it a point to support authors from the region, such as April Halberstadt, "a historian who knows everything about San Jose." Another shop worth checking out is Park Place Vintage, which is packed with mid-century furniture and collectibles. Last time I was there, I seriously considered carting a 1950s TV back home with me.

I love eating almost as much as shopping, and San Jose's ethnic diversity means there's an array of cuisines to choose from. Jalisco Taqueria, on the Hispanic east side of town, used to be a dive, but it now caters to a clientele that's always in a hurry. In other words, what I remember as a trailer now looks suspiciously like a Taco Bell and has a drive-through. The burritos, however, are still fat, fresh, and loaded with zesty pinto beans. For dessert, the nearby Pink Elephant Bakery sells sweet Mexican breads and doughy concha cakes.

Downtown San Jose is where many of the new Asian restaurants have opened, including 19 Market, a chic Vietnamese bistro that pairs inventive dishes—the spicy pulled pork is served in molded lettuce cups—with saketinis. For a quick bite, San Jose Tofu Company has pillow-soft, creamy tofu cakes. Husband-and-wife team Chester and Amy Nozaki scoop the tofu out of giant vats behind the shop's counter.

I've come to appreciate other novel additions to my hometown. Right by the HP Pavilion stadium, where the San Jose Sharks play hockey, is the tasting room for J. Lohr Vineyards. The cabernets and chardonnays are bottled on-site, and the daily tastings are free. If you're more of a beer drinker, the Tied House Café and Brewery also makes its microbrews in house, including the popular Cascade Amber.

To burn off some of those calories, I stroll around the world's largest outdoor Monopoly board in Guadalupe River Park. My other favorite place to unwind is Alum Rock Park. The mineral springs are believed to have medicinal benefits, but the real draw is the network of trails that wind up from the canyon floor into the hills above San Jose.

You couldn't miss the Tech Museum of Innovation if you tried—the building is bright orange. There are exhibits on everything from the virtual-reality game Second Life to green power. Luddites like me scoff at the overbearing behemoth, but underneath it all, we feel pride in what our humble city has become.

FOOD
Monsieur Beans
1383 Lincoln Ave., 408/297-9077

Jalisco Taqueria
401 S. King Rd., 408/923-3610, burrito $4

Pink Elephant Bakery
415 S. King Rd., 408/923-3436, concha 50¢

19 Market
19 N. Market St., 408/280-6111, pulled pork $10

San Jose Tofu Company
175 Jackson St., 408/292-7026, tofu cake $2

Tied House Café and Brewery
65 N. San Pedro St., 408/295-2739

ACTIVITIES
J. Lohr Vineyards
1000 Lenzen Ave., 408/918-2160, jlohr.com

Guadalupe River Park
W. San Carlos St., monopolyinthepark.com

Alum Rock Park
15350 Penitencia Creek Rd., $6

Tech Museum of Innovation
201 S. Market St., 408/294-8324, thetech.org, $8

SHOPPING
Willow Glen Books
1330 Lincoln Ave., 408/298-8141

Park Place Vintage
1318 Lincoln Ave., 408/294-9893

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Dining Out in Japan

OKONOMIYAKI Osaka is the reputed birthplace of the okonomiyaki, or "Japanese pancake." It's a joy to eat but requires some mastery to prepare since diners often have the honor of flipping their own pancakes. The ingredients—usually cabbage with seafood or pork—are mixed into the batter and poured onto a griddle in the center of the table. In Osaka, the best place for okonomiyaki is Sennichimae Hatsuse. After you place your order, a DIY kit will arrive. Combine the ingredients with the batter and pour the mix onto the griddle. Wait for the pancake to bubble and brown at the edges. Flip it once with the spatula and then dress it with okonomiyaki sauce and dried-bonito flakes. And don't even think about using your chopsticks—the custom is to cut a small piece off with your spatula and bring it right to your mouth. Namba Sennichimae 11-25, 011-81/06-6632-2267, hatsuse.net, from $7. TACHI-NOMIYA Most tachi-nomiyas, or "standing bars," are inside train stations. At Shochu Dojo Irifune, within Osaka's Hankyu Umeda terminal, the rumbling overhead is the sound of trains rushing salarymen home. The house drink is shochu, a grain alcohol served on the rocks. Shochu Dojo Irifune also has appetizers such as the Okinawa specialty of fried bitter melon. If a neighbor passes you a dish—as is the custom here—accept it with both hands. With so many plates coming and going, it can be hard to find a place for your chopsticks, so do as the locals do—make a holder. Fold the chopsticks' paper wrapper lengthwise and then fold it in half twice. Pinch the center crease between your thumb and forefinger and fold the ends so the paper resembles an M. Rest your chopsticks in the crease. Kakudacho 9-25, 011-81/06-6367-6464, from $3. KUSHIKATSU Breaded and fried kushikatsu (a few bites of meat and vegetables impaled on a small wooden skewer) is best eaten at a restaurant that's dedicated to the dish. The decor at Tengu is simple: fluorescent lighting, white counters, and stools arranged in a horseshoe around the fry cooks. To order, point at the skewers you want and hold up fingers indicating how many. (If you're feeling adventurous, try the dote-yaki, tripe simmered in miso.) The various sauces are shared, so there's no double-dipping! And when you're ready to go, say "oaiso" (oh-ah-ee-so, "bill, please") and then make way for the people in the line that always seems to be snaking down the block. Ebisu-higashi 3-4-12, 011-81/06-6641-3577, from $1.

Collective Intelligence

Diana Britt, Pasadena, Calif. WHAT I COLLECT As a military kid, I never got out of the habit of wandering the earth and bringing home bits of it. My obsession with fans started in 1988 on a trip to Indonesia. I couldn't buy just one—which is why I have 80 now! WHAT I'VE LEARNED... Some of my best pieces commemorate a location, including a fan from Greenwich, England, that looks like a clock. All time zones were once tied to Greenwich Mean Time because the area is at zero longitude. If possible, I try to meet the person who made the fan. Near Lake Atitlán, Guatemala, I purchased a water-reed fan from an elderly man who had been crafting them for decades. I treasure my photograph of him holding the fan; it's sort of like a certificate of authenticity. I have no problem buying more than one at the same spot. I went crazy at the Guggenheim in Bilbao, Spain—in the gift shop, I bought half a dozen fans with wild patterns. Paula Morgan, Nashville, Tenn. WHAT I COLLECT My hobby began in 2003 when a striped mortar and pestle caught my eye in St. Augustine, Fla. After that, they just kept appearing to me whenever I was traveling. WHAT I'VE LEARNED... When I was on a cruise to Turkey, the ship's staff chanted, "You see it, you like it, you buy it!" It has become my philosophy, because if you stumble upon something unusual, you can assume that you won't find another item like it. The more valuable mortars and pestles have a story to tell. For instance, a green ceramic mortar that I bought in Athens, Greece, has ancient drawings on it, and the pestle says "Hygeia." It was the perfect find, because Hygeia was the Greek goddess of health, and Athens, Ga., is where I went to pharmacy school. Also, ask others to collect for you. My mother got me a wooden set from a Shaker village in Kentucky. It's as plain and simple as the Shakers themselves. Joan Loomis, Portland, Ore. WHAT I COLLECT I got into cookbooks while working as a flight attendant in the 1980s. In Greece, I bit into an amazing lamb souvlaki at a food market. I had to learn how to make that dish just so that I could relive the moment. WHAT I'VE LEARNED... Find cookbooks that will remind you of a scent. I was overcome by the Tabasco-saturated air on Avery Island, La.—there's a Tabasco factory in town—so I got The Tabasco Cookbook and mini bottles of the stuff to keep in my travel bag. I also buy restaurant cookbooks. In Budapest, I had a revelation when I first tasted smoked liver at Gundel. The next day, I bought a copy of Gundel's Hungarian Cookbook and picked up some smoked paprika. Don't be afraid of books with recipes you'll never cook. I'll never prepare pickled lampreys from Russian Cuisine, but the recipe is fun to read. The instructions say to "remove the head and mucus, which is sometimes poisonous." Sue Morgan, Huntsville, Ala. WHAT I COLLECT My mom gave me my first piggy bank when I turned 9, and I now have almost 500—maybe that's because I grew up in an era of save, save, save. WHAT I'VE LEARNED... Piggy banks come in all shapes, sizes, and materials: cast iron, rubber, resin, coconut shells, and even cloth. I once bought a pig made of red mud in a village just outside Caracas, Venezuela. You won't find that in the U.S.! Amateur collectors may not know this, but coin slots can be anywhere. One of my favorite banks is a Miss Piggy with a slot between her breasts. (I found her in Snohomish, Wash., on my first antiquing trip to the town.) When your collection gets too big to remember what you do have, think about what you don't have. Musical and talking piggy banks, for example, add a new dimension. One of mine says, "A little change is good, but a lot of change is wonderful!" That pig definitely has attitude.

Reykjavík: Cold, Dark, and Handsome

Jennifer Sabo, youth programs manager at the John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art in Sarasota, Fla., was joined by her best friend, Janet, from L.A. "With the temperature around 32 degrees Fahrenheit, Iceland was quite a change," Jennifer says. "But everywhere we went, we were amazed by mountains, waterfalls, hot springs, and winter festivities. Even getting pelted by hail while on a hike couldn't begin to dim our enthusiasm." Blue Lagoon After a bracing run from the locker room, we immersed ourselves in the 100-degree waters of the Blue Lagoon. Rich in salt, silica, and other minerals, the geothermal water is pumped from deep under the earth. After rinsing off the sulfury smell, we strolled around and took photos (011-354/420-8800, bluelagoon.com, from $33). Prikið I was shocked to see prices twice as high as in the U.S. We found affordable meals at Prikið, a café/pub popular with students (Bankastræti 12, 011-354/551-2866, prikid.is, hot chocolate $4). Bæjarins Beztu We also liked the hot dogs at Bæjarins Beztu (Tryggvagata and Pósthústræti, 011-354/894-4515, $3) and the lobster skewers at Sægreifinn (Geirsgata 8, 011-354/553-1500, saegreifinn.is, $22). Fish market From mid-January to mid-February, the Viking month of Thorri is celebrated with a midwinter feast featuring unusual foods, such as hákarl (putrefied shark meat). You can try hákarl in the fish market for about $2. Nasa We went to the club Nasa to see a Scottish group called the Reel Thing and Iva Nova, an all-girl band from Russia (Austurvöllur 2, 011-354/511-1313, nasa.is, from $7). Gullfoss We spent a day exploring the Golden Circle, a trio of natural wonders about an hour outside Reykjavík. We started with a hike through Thingvellir National Park at dawn (which was around 9 a.m.; dusk was around 6 p.m.). After we passed Thingvalla Lake and crossed the crevasse that separates the North American and European tectonic plates, we got back on the road. The next stop was Gullfoss, a two-tier waterfall between snow-covered cliffs. Then, at the geyser field, we watched one erupt and marveled at the steaming, boiling vents scattered along the icy ground. Winter Lights The theme of this year's Winter Lights Festival was Light in Motion. Over three days, events and activities take place in churches, schools, museums, and clubs. The festival kicked off with a parade that had the crowd, accompanied by a five-piece band, traveling through the streets. As we walked, we came upon choruses, fire-eaters, and dancers in light-encrusted costumes. Öskudagur On Ash Wednesday, or Öskudagur, kids in costumes visit stores and sing for treats. A walk down Laugavegur, Reykjavík's main shopping street, is a must. You might recognize some of the songs, such as "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," even when they're sung in Icelandic.