“They call this area ‘The Salad Bowl’,” he told me. My dad was driving North on the 101 from King City, showing me around the area with a near bird’s-eye view in the passenger seat of his enormous pickup truck. The moniker clearly fit; in every direction I looked, something was growing. As a chef it’s exciting to see a place producing so much food. Entire acres look like vibrant green carpets. Rows of wine grapes stand at attention. Bright red strawberries beg to be picked and tasted (though I hear their farmers are less than encouraging about that sort of thing).
Then, after my excitement fades, a little embarrassment sets in. You see, I’ve been cooking for years. I’ve made tons of salads. I’ve hulled cases and cases of strawberries. I’ve purchased, washed, and chopped more cilantro and parsley than I could tally, but I’d never seen where it all came from. It didn’t take more than a glance to see that this place had fertile soil.
My lady and I had the pleasure of staying in King City for a solid month as part of a much larger, longer road trip that started in Seattle in February and will, by the end, have taken us through nine states here in the U.S. and one in Mexico. One of our favorite aspects of the trip thus far has been getting to spend so much time in so many different places, each one with its own unique pulse.
King City was certainly no exception; everywhere we went was beautiful, green, and lush. A drive from King City west to the coast yielded many great photo opportunities, and a short trip in the opposite direction showcased the gradual metamorphosis from flat fertile farmland to rolling green hills dotted with grazing cows, to a much steeper and rockier topography. Heading North, especially if you wander off the 101 a little, you can’t help but run into a vineyard or tasting room. We managed to make quite a dent in our “winery check-off map” (which she kept insisting was just a regular promotional map, and that we didn’t actually have to go to every winery on the list). In short, we had no trouble keeping busy for our month here.
At one point during our stay we stopped into the Firehouse coffee shop for some lattes. The young lady behind the counter asked how we’d been enjoying our time in King City. “We both love it,” I answered, “there’s so much to do around here.” “Really!?” was her surprised reply, followed by an embarrassed laugh. I guess it’s not unusual for the members of a town to feel like there’s nothing interesting to do where they live. It reminds me of my grandmother, telling me about living in Cairo, Egypt and never seeing the pyramids. From our point of view, however, there wasn’t nearly enough time for everything we wanted to see and do here. What’s more, it wasn’t longer than a week before we felt like a part of the community, rather than visitors from the outside looking in.
A one-month stay is a uniquely sized window into the life of a town. Instead of seeing the area simply as it stands now, you begin to learn a little about the people who have worked so hard to make it that way. What we saw when we first arrived in King City was this wonderful little community, but it was in meeting the people here that we began to understand how it didn’t get that way on it’s own. There was no serendipity, just a whole lot of people who get involved and love their city, from the wine makers to the farmers to the folks around town. This is a happy place made up of friendly people, working hard for each other and, in so doing, benefiting themselves.
I’ve been to a lot of different cities in my life, and it’s not often you come across a community like this one; a place that feels like home the first time you visit, with people who strive every day to make it even better. I’m sure it may sound funny, but I feel as though I made more friends after a month in King City than in the three years I’ve been up in Seattle.
Of course, I’ve talked to enough folks in town to know that not everyone agrees on everything all the time, but in the end everyone is striving toward a common goal. It can be easy to forget that not every place works that way. The community, like the farmland, is fertile, healthy, and strong. Even as our journey has continued on from California, I still think back often to our time in this place; getting to know King City was something I truly valued, and that feeling, much like King City itself, is something uniquely special.
Then, after my excitement fades, a little embarrassment sets in. You see, I’ve been cooking for years. I’ve made tons of salads. I’ve hulled cases and cases of strawberries. I’ve purchased, washed, and chopped more cilantro and parsley than I could tally, but I’d never seen where it all came from. It didn’t take more than a glance to see that this place had fertile soil.
My lady and I had the pleasure of staying in King City for a solid month as part of a much larger, longer road trip that started in Seattle in February and will, by the end, have taken us through nine states here in the U.S. and one in Mexico. One of our favorite aspects of the trip thus far has been getting to spend so much time in so many different places, each one with its own unique pulse.
King City was certainly no exception; everywhere we went was beautiful, green, and lush. A drive from King City west to the coast yielded many great photo opportunities, and a short trip in the opposite direction showcased the gradual metamorphosis from flat fertile farmland to rolling green hills dotted with grazing cows, to a much steeper and rockier topography. Heading North, especially if you wander off the 101 a little, you can’t help but run into a vineyard or tasting room. We managed to make quite a dent in our “winery check-off map” (which she kept insisting was just a regular promotional map, and that we didn’t actually have to go to every winery on the list). In short, we had no trouble keeping busy for our month here.
At one point during our stay we stopped into the Firehouse coffee shop for some lattes. The young lady behind the counter asked how we’d been enjoying our time in King City. “We both love it,” I answered, “there’s so much to do around here.” “Really!?” was her surprised reply, followed by an embarrassed laugh. I guess it’s not unusual for the members of a town to feel like there’s nothing interesting to do where they live. It reminds me of my grandmother, telling me about living in Cairo, Egypt and never seeing the pyramids. From our point of view, however, there wasn’t nearly enough time for everything we wanted to see and do here. What’s more, it wasn’t longer than a week before we felt like a part of the community, rather than visitors from the outside looking in.
A one-month stay is a uniquely sized window into the life of a town. Instead of seeing the area simply as it stands now, you begin to learn a little about the people who have worked so hard to make it that way. What we saw when we first arrived in King City was this wonderful little community, but it was in meeting the people here that we began to understand how it didn’t get that way on it’s own. There was no serendipity, just a whole lot of people who get involved and love their city, from the wine makers to the farmers to the folks around town. This is a happy place made up of friendly people, working hard for each other and, in so doing, benefiting themselves.
I’ve been to a lot of different cities in my life, and it’s not often you come across a community like this one; a place that feels like home the first time you visit, with people who strive every day to make it even better. I’m sure it may sound funny, but I feel as though I made more friends after a month in King City than in the three years I’ve been up in Seattle.
Of course, I’ve talked to enough folks in town to know that not everyone agrees on everything all the time, but in the end everyone is striving toward a common goal. It can be easy to forget that not every place works that way. The community, like the farmland, is fertile, healthy, and strong. Even as our journey has continued on from California, I still think back often to our time in this place; getting to know King City was something I truly valued, and that feeling, much like King City itself, is something uniquely special.