Pacific Coast Highway Album: San Francisco & Muir Woods

Last in a five-part series (see part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4)

A view looking up Lombard Street, the famous “crooked street” in San Francisco.

We concluded our tour in San Francisco.

Left: San Francisco harbor, with Alcatraz in the distance. Right: The view down Lombard Street.

Left: We had just crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. The view looking back at San Francisco was hazy indeed, and a photo of the bridge itself impossible. Right: Just turn the camera 90 degrees to the left, and the view is a completely different story.

*

Muir Woods has some of the last old-growth Coast Redwoods near a major city. (The rest of them are much farther north.) By 1900, most of the original redwood forests had been cut down. Muir Woods remained intact mainly because it was extremely difficult to reach. Businessman William Kent bought the 295-acre site in 1905 and donated it to the Federal Government. President Theodore Roosevelt proclaimed it a national monument in 1908.

Left: Entrance to Muir Woods National Monument. Right: A view of the redwoods from a distance (actually taken after we had left the park).

Left: Yup, they sure are tall. Right: There are many downed trees in the park. Though the redwoods are among the longest-lived trees, they do eventually fall after 1,000 to 1,500 years, or so.

Left: Note the odd growth pattern of the tree on the right. Right: Robert inside a “fairy ring” of related trees. Note the fire damage on the large center tree. There hasn’t been a major fire at Muir Woods in 150 years, but many of the trees have lingering scars from past fires. Though fire damages redwoods, it seldom kills them. They actually benefit from occasional fires, which kill off less hardy species, opening the canopy to sunlight, and making room for new redwood seeds to germinate.

Left: A waterfall. Right: Sometimes, a fallen tree blocks the path. Here, there was just enough space to squeeze through.

Left: The bulbous structure is called a “burl.” Normally they are closer to the ground, but this one is up in the air. Eventually, a new trunk will sprout from here. Right: Father and son inside a hollowed-out tree trunk.

Ruby Foo's Times Square

 

Ruby Foo’s Times Square is part of the sprawling B. R. Guest Restaurant Group. The owner, Stephen Hanson, seems to have a Ph.D. in populism. Once called “king of the one-star restaurant world,” his empire now stretches to sixteen restaurants—some of them clones, and most of them in New York. They are usually riffs on popular genres. His lone failure, as far as I know, was the ill-fated Barça 18, which not even the services of Le Bernardin’s Eric Ripert as consulting chef could save.

The first Ruby Foo’s (now called Ruby Foo’s Uptown) sported a $3.5 million David Rockwell interior (an extravagant sum in 1999), but managed to keep dinner under $30 a head. An approving Ruth Reichl awarded two stars in the Times. It was an instant sensation, and the Times Square branch opened just a year later. The Times reported that the outdoor neon sign alone cost $1.5 million.

The rhythm of the neighborhood is tied to Broadway. Most restaurants, whether good or not, are packed until about 7:30, when they abruptly clear out. Many of them do a brisk after-show business, too. We had no trouble getting a same-day 9:30 p.m. reservation, as it was early enough that most shows hadn’t let out yet. We saw a steady stream of late customers coming in after us. The menu is well suited to “grazing,” making Ruby Foo’s especially attractive for a late-night snack.

Like many restaurants in the pan-Asian genre, the menu at Ruby Foo’s is divided into multiple categories, with both creative and traditional takes on Chinese, Thai, and Japanese cuisine. The menu announces that “the fun is in sharing — your server will guide you.” We didn’t get much guidance, and it was hard to tell how much food to order.

Colossal Spicy Tuna Tempura Maki Roll (left); Thai Chicken Wings with Spicy Tamarind Glaze (right)

There are almost 20 kinds of rolls in two categories: Ruby’s Rolls ($7.00–9.50) and Monster Rolls ($9.00–10.50). The server advised that, despite the names, all rolls are the same size, except for the Colossal Spicy Tuna roll ($10.00), which is slightly larger. So I ordered that. The whole roll seemed to have been deep-fried, and while it wasn’t really that spicy, it was enjoyable nonetheless.

There are about 10 kinds of Dim Sum ($7.00–$10.50). We tried the Thai Chicken Wings ($7), which weren’t a bad deal at all, although they were a bit too spicy for my son, who doesn’t care for spicy food. I would have gladly eaten more of them, except that we had a lot more food to go.

Pad Thai Shrimp & Chicken (left); Dim Sum Sampler (right)

My son’s main course was the Pad Thai ($19.50). The photo doesn’t give a proper sense of depth. It was an enormous bowl, and I doubt anyone would finish it if they also ordered an appetizer. It tasted rather generic to me, but certainly acceptable.

The Dim Sum Sampler ($13) came with two apiece of Shrimp Dumplings, Vegetable Dumplings, Szechuan Pork Dumplings, and Chicken Pot Stickers. The pork dumplings were the best of the bunch, while the chicken and vegetable dumplings were so similar in taste that I couldn’t tell them apart.

My main complaint with the service is that all of the food came at once. It also took a long while to arrive. Some of these dishes surely could have been ready sooner, and delivered to the table in stages, so that our meal could have had some pacing to it.

The décor is a feast for the eyes. Even my 12-year-old son appreciated that the atmosphere was a cut above the typical Chinese restaurant. He was particularly taken with the restroom attendant, although he wondered about the purpose of having someone to turn on the faucet and put the soap on your hands, as if it were at all inconvenient to do this yourself.

We had a mixture of hits and near-misses at Ruby Foo’s, but all the food was at least reasonable, as was the bill. For quite a lot of food, it was just $63 before tax and tip (that included one mixed drink). At that price, I wouldn’t mind giving Ruby Foo’s another shot. And there’s still plenty more of the menu to try.

Ruby Foo’s Times Square (1626 Broadway at 49th Street, Theater District)

Food: *
Service: *
Ambiance: **
Overall: *

Eleven Madison Park

Note: Click here for a more recent visit to Eleven Madison Park.

In 1998, Danny Meyer did the absurd. Within a month’s time, he opened two contrasting luxury restaurants in a neighborhood not then known for fine dining. The location, a landmarked Art Deco building, ought to have been perfect, but it adjoined the dilapidated Madison Park, better known at the time for drug dealers, broken fences, and crumbling asphalt. The park was eventually rebuilt (Meyer himself contributed $60,000), and both restaurants were hits.

Apparently, Meyer’s original intention was to open just one restaurant on the ground floor of the old Met Life building, but the wall separating two dining rooms had landmark status, and couldn’t be removed. So in the smaller of the two spaces, he opened the Indian-fusion restaurant Tabla; and in the spectacular former Assembly Hall, he opened Eleven Madison Park.

Though both restaurants were a success, Ruth Reichl in the Times found Tabla more impressive, awarding three stars. To Eleven Madison Park, she awarded only two in a 1999 review, finding chef Kerry Heffernan’s main courses “disappointingly uneven.” Six years later, for no apparent reason, Frank Bruni re-reviewed Eleven Madison Park, again awarding two stars, finding “much of his food…unremarkable” and “some of it…poorly executed.”

My only visit to Eleven Madison Park under Chef Heffernan was on Mother’s Day in 2005. I was impressed with a five-course tasting menu, especially bearing in mind that most restaurants under-perform on major holidays. But most observers didn’t share my three-star assessment. By the end of the year, Chef Heffernan had departed, replaced by wunderkind Daniel Humm. Suddenly, the food community was buzzing that Eleven Madison Park was practically a new restaurant.

The Gourmand Tasting MenuFrank Bruni took notice, issuing using the first self-re-review of his tenure to elevate Eleven Madison Park to three stars. (He then managed the peculiar feat of insulting the restaurant by absurdly awarding another three stars to the casual Bar Room at The Modern in the same review—in the process dissing the best restaurant in Danny Meyer’s empire, the main dining room at The Modern.)

Last week, my girlfriend and I returned to Eleven Madison Park, our first visit since Chef Humm took over. Nowadays, the restaurant offers a three-course prix fixe at $82, a four-course prix fixe at $96, or a Gourmand tasting menu, which we ordered, at $155. Counting hors d’oeuvres and petits-fours, that tasting menu weighs in at 13 courses, making it one of the city’s more ambitious of its kind.

A full description of 13 courses would extend this post to the length of a minor novel, so an impressionistic fly-by will have to suffice. The full menu is pictured above right (click for a larger image).

Hors d’oeuvres (left); Maine Diver Scallop with caviar (right)

The hors d’oeuvres were mind-blowingly good. From left to right, I believe they were a foie gras sandwich; a sweetbread; hamachi in a cucumber wrap; and sorry, I cannot recall the fourth.

I loved the first savory course, a diver scallop with caviar. My girlfriend doesn’t eat scallops, so they just gave her a version of the dish with the scallop omitted, which we thought was a rather unimaginative substitute.

California Celery, Cappuccino with Celery Root, and Black Truffles (left); Peekytoe Crab Cannelloni (right)

A celery and cappuccino puree with black truffles was topped with a fried quail egg. Peekytoe Crab Cannelloni was satisfactory, though it did not eclipse our memory of the crab salad we had at Daniel a couple of months ago.

Foie gras with Venezuelan Cocoa and Quince (left); Mediterranean Loup de Mer (right)

It’s hard to go wrong with foie gras, but the torchon here was particularly dreamy. The accompanying soft brioche was wonderful—but also, in a way, superfluous. Chef Humm has a delicate touch with fish, and the Loup de Mer was wonderful.

Scottish Langoustine (left); Four Story Hill “Boudin Blanc” (right)

The next couple of courses didn’t register as impressively. A Scottish Langoustine was slightly dull, as was the boudin (a kind of sausage), though I was a bit more fond of it than my girlfriend was.

Three variations of Vermont Farm Suckling PigSuckling pig is apparently Chef Humm’s signature dish. Frank Bruni raved about it. When he came out to greet diners late in our meal, he made sure to ask, “How about the pig?”

My girlfriend was transported, though I found it a bit too dry. We overheard diners at the next table, and their views were exactly reversed: it was the lady who thought hers was too dry. I’d love to come back and try the full entrée version of it.

My sense was that this is precisely the kind of dish that suffers from being served in a tasting menu portion. You need more of it, to give the fat room to spread out, to give alternating crisp and gooey textures the chance to shine.

Lynnhaven “Chèvre Frais” (left); Coconut sorbet with pear and parsnips (right)

The next two courses are perhaps best classified as palate-cleansers. Nothing stands out about them, and I present them (above) without comment.

Chocolate cake with Passion Fruit Bourbon Sour (left); Candied lollipops (right)

The main dessert course was a wonderful chocolate cake with a passion fruit bourbon sour for contrast. I only wish I had had enough appetite left to enjoy more of the candied lollipops.

Service throughout the evening was up the the standard you come to expect at a Danny Meyer restaurant. Given his success, I wonder why more restauranteurs don’t emulate him? When I arrived, the host offered immediately to show me to the table—rather than insisting I wait at the bar until my date arrived, as so many restaurants do these days.

The wine list is excellent, with a good selection of half-bottles. I was also pleased to see a decent selection below $60, an price level often not available at restaurants in this class. Our wine selection was unimaginative: a Barolo that I chose for no other reason than I was happy to find it at $89. The staff decanted it, a service few restaurants offer these days. Wine decanters are an Eleven Madison Park specialty, and you see them on display in a wide variety of shapes.

The bread service, too, was excellent, with nice soft butter in a silver serving dish, and several home-made breads to spread it on. The whole meal took around 3½ hour, and I was never conscious of it being either too fast or too slow.

The large space, with its soaring Art Deco ceilings, leave some people cold. We find it coolly elegant and understated, but it won’t be to all tastes. We were happy to find that those high ceilings gave ample room for the sound level to dissipate, but the restaurant wasn’t quite full, so we didn’t have the acid test. We were seated at a table that could normally accomodate four, so we had a bit more space to ourselves than we normally would.

A few of the courses on our Gourmand tasting menu misfired slightly, but I say this only in relation to the high expectations one has at a price level that puts Eleven Madison Park near the top of the heap in this already expensive city. Overall, it was a wonderful experience. I would be delighted to return.

Eleven Madison Park (11 Madison Avenue at 24th Street, Flatiron District)

Food: ***½
Service: ***½
Ambiance: ***
Overall: ***½ 

Pacific Coast Highway Album: Monterey Bay Aquarium

Fourth in a five-part series (see part 1, part 2, part 3)

There is plenty to keep you busy along the waterfront in Monterey, including Fisherman’s Wharf, Cannery Row, and the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Cannery Row, immortalized in the John Steinbeck novel, is now crassly commercial, as if Disney were operating it. The aquarium, at least, is entirely genuine.

Left & right: A shark in the kelp exhibit.

Left: The aquatic bird exhibit. Right: A school of small fish.

Left & right: Jellies.

Left & right: The coral reef exhibit.

Left & right: South African penguins. The one in the left foreground is molting.

Left & right: We give the penguins the last word.

The Payoff: The Four Seasons

When Little Frankie BrunBrun was a young lad, his father used to take him to the Four Seasons, where he got “a sweeping sense of the big money to be made and spent in this city.” Yesterday, Big Frank Bruni returned to the stomping ground of his youth, and found that “the restaurant, like so much else, isn’t quite what it was.” Some dishes transported him; others were but a shadow of their former decadent selves.

Mercifully, Bruni spared us his usual assault on fine dining. He did not try to argue that contemporary “savvy” diners are no longer interested in classic luxury. The review included none of the insulting terms he usually applies to such places, like fussy, prissy, or highfalutin. He was, for once, perfectly happy to accept the restaurant on its own terms. He simply found it not up to its former glory.

To the extent the restaurant cares—and it probably does not—the Four Seasons should consider itself fortunate to have escaped with just a three-to-two demotion. The review read at the low end of two stars. From the text alone, a singleton could very well have been justified. Did Frank give the second star for nostalgia? Quite possibly.

We took the two-star bet at 8–3 odds, winning $2.67 on our hypothetical $1 wager. Eater took the three-star bet, losing $1.

	Eater		NYJ
Bankroll	$15.00		$19.00
Gain/Loss	–$1.00		+$2.67
Total	+$14.00		+$21.67
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Won–Lost	5–2		6–1

Zeytin

Zeytin, a Turkish restaurant on the Upper West Side, has largely escaped critical notice since it opened in 2004. Robert Sietsema of The Village Voice named it Best Trendy Turk restaurant of 2006, which is funny, because I don’t think there are many others.

But Zeytin is indeed a fun place to visit, and a welcome addition to a neighborhood not renowned for fine dining. The space is quiet and classy. The photo above, cribbed from the restaurant’s website, was shot during a Mother’s Day party. We visited at 5:30 p.m. on Monday night, in advance of an opera at Lincoln Center, finding the setting far more muted than the photo would suggest.

We both started with the appetizer that had the most unusual name: Pachanga Borek ($8), five lovely, thin, triangular pastries filled with sautéed tomatoes, cured veal, mushrooms, and kasseri cheese. For the main course, I had the whole boneless red snapper ($20), broiled in parchment paper with shitake mushrooms, asparagus, dill and tomatoes. I could find no fault with it at all: the snapper was tender and moist, and well paired with the accompanying vegetables.

Several of the entrées feature lamb. My friend had the roasted lamb ($19), which wasn’t as hearty a portion as the other items we tried. But perhaps it was just as well, as she reported it was “a bit oily,” although she liked the rice.

Service was generally okay, although the serving staff shouldn’t have had to be prompted to replace our silverware after the appetizer course. The warm, soft thick bread served with olive oil before the meal was wonderful.

Zeytin is gentle on the pocketbook. Most appetizers are $5–10, most entrées $14–22, side dishes just $3. To drink, we found a quite respectable Shiraz for just $30. Coffee after dinner was just $2. The whole bill for two before the tip was $95.45, including tax. It is well worth a visit, and Lincoln Center is only 10–15 minutes away by taxi.

Zeytin (519 Columbus Avenue at 85th Street, Upper West Side)

Food: *½
Service: *
Ambiance: *½
Overall: *½

Rolling the Dice: The Four Seasons

Every week, we take our turn with Lady Luck on the BruniBetting odds as posted by Eater. Just for kicks, we track Eater’s bet too, and see who is better at guessing what the unpredictable Bruni will do. We track our sins with an imaginary $1 bet every week.

The Line: Tomorrow, His Frankness reviews The Four Seasons, one of New York’s iconic restaurants. Eater’s official odds are as follows (√√ denotes the Eater bet):

Zero Stars: 6-1
One Star: 4-1
Two Stars: 8-3
Three Stars: 5-1 √√
Four Stars: 15,000-1

The Skinny: Opened in 1959, The Four Seasons is one of New York’s oldest continuously operating restaurants. Many celebrities are frequent diners, including Hillary Clinton and Henry Kissinger. Prices are astronomical, with the least expensive dinner entrée priced at $37, and many above $50.

Ruth Reichl awarded three stars in 1995, re-affirming Bryan Miller’s three-star rating from 1990. I also found a two-star Mimi Sheraton review dating from 1979. (There probably were earlier rated reviews that my cursory search failed to uncover. It’s hard to believe that Sheraton’s piece, after the restaurant had been open twenty years, was the first.)

I had a hunch that this week’s Bruni target would be a re-review, but I didn’t expect The Four Seasons. Classic elegance always seems to bore Frank Bruni, so it is surprising to find him dining at an established landmark that has mostly flown under the critics’ radar over the last decade.

Eater has framed the dilemma well. Most of us think of The Four Seasons as a restaurant that practically defines three-star dining. But Bruni’s tenure has been marked with a strong undercurrent of hostility towards precisely this type of restaurant: classic, expensive, elegant, beloved of celebrities, and not especially adventurous. No such restaurant has received three stars from Frank Bruni, and we don’t think tomorrow will be an exception.

On top of that, Bruni’s “unprompted” re-reviews—those not occasioned by a major event (new chef, new location, facelift)—have generally resulted in a rating change. As Bruni himself once said, it’s usually not worth investing the multiple visits required for a full review, if the only outcome is to re-confirm a previous verdict.

The Bet: Eater, for what he concedes are emotional reasons, is taking the three-star action. We are betting that Frank will do what he always does, slay the sacred cow, and award two stars to The Four Seasons. If we were inclined to be really adventurous, we’d bet on one star before we’d bet on three. But for now, two it is.

Public

I first visited Public about three years ago, when it was still relatively new. My impression then was that the food didn’t quite live up to the high-concept ambiance. Last night, I decided to give it another try. My verdict remains the same: Public is more about the “scene” than it is about the food.

To be sure, it’s no mean feat to remain relevant three years later. That’s more than enough time for fickle diners to find a new favorite. Just as it always did, Public still seems to fill up, at least on weekends. We had no trouble getting a 7:15 p.m. reservation on Saturday night, but the next available was past 10:00 p.m. By the time we left, it seemed every inch of space was occupied.

Typical of restaurants in its genre, Public would not seat me until my dining companion had arrived—either a sensible strategy for managing tables in demand, or a cynical way to run up the bar tab. So I went to the bar, where I struggled to get a server’s attention. Once I did, I enjoyed both of the infused vodkas that I tried. Naturally, the tab wasn’t transferable to our table.

Public offers an Australian/New Zealand fusion menu that is really difficult to categorize.

Cured wild boar with Garrotxa cheese, marinated olives, caper berries and crostini

Cured wild boar ($13) sounded interesting, but was probably a waste of a good wild boar, as it didn’t taste particularly distinctive. With the cheese and crostini, it was at least a tasty snack. My girlfriend had the lentil salad, which was just fine, but didn’t launch any culinary fireworks.

Manuka braised lamb shank and truffled swede mash with watercress, poached pear and pickled onion salad

We both had the braised lamb shank ($25.50), which was satisfying comfort-food, though as my girlfriend pointed out, the degree of difficulty is low. It’s hard to screw up a braised meat. I thought that both the swede mash and accompanying salad were boring.

Service was inconsistent, and one server spilled wine on my shirt. The décor, a public library cum post office circa 1940s, is one of design firm AvroKO’s most stunning creations. The new-age sound track is too loud, and the exposed brick tends to amplify the sound.

You won’t eat badly at Public, but you won’t be wowed either. Perhaps the best bet is to come for a drink, admire the design, then try somewhere else for dinner.

Public (210 Elizabeth St. between Spring St. & Prince St., NoLIta)

Food: *
Service: *
Ambiance: *½
Overall: *

Koca Lounge

Note: Koca Lounge is closed.

*

Lower East Side newcomer Koca Lounge has had a rough start. It opened last fall, but initially without a liquor license. It has gone largely unnoticed by the critics, but the two who’ve reviewed it—Paul Adams in The Sun and Evan Mantyk in The Epoch Times—have been pleased.

The name is also not in its favor. “Koca” comes from a Thai word for a boiling hot pot that you use to cook your own food. The Japanese version of it, shabu shabu, is considerably more familiar. But to Westerners, “Koca” suggests coffee or cocaine, neither of which is the image the owners want. The restaurant started with an even stranger name, “Outlet Koca Lounge,” which was simply bizarre. “Outlet” has now been wisely dropped.

With that out of the way, we come to the food at Koca Lounge, which is not only wonderful, but also surprisingly inexpensive. The menu is in numerous categories, with “snacks” ($2–12), noodle dishes ($9–13), stir fry ($8–9), “plates” ($11–14), hot pots (four choices, $17), meat and seafood for the hot pots ($7–11), sweets ($6), and chocolate hot pots ($11).

The category called “snacks” is roughly equivalent to appetizers. Thai Meatballs with Peanut Sauce ($7) came with two skewers of four deep-fried meatballs apiece, along with a peanut sauce for dipping. Cumin Grilled Baby Lamb Chops with Japanese Pepper & Cucumber Yogurt Sauce ($12) came with three pepper-crusted lamb chops and a wonderful dipping sauce.

We saw the same dishes coming out of the kitchen over and over again, so obviously the other tables were as drawn to these choices as we were. Both were terrific, and the lamb must be one of the better bargains in town. Where else do you get three lamb chops for $12?

Four hot pots are offered, named for the seasons. Each one comes with a bountiful plate of bok choy, enoki mushrooms, cauliflower, corn, seasonal greens, taro, egg dumplings and fish cakes. The server suggested that one additional meat selection would be ample, and indeed it was. We chose the prime ribeye ($8), along with the Winter hot pot, a heavy beef broth with Szechuan spices.

Obviously this wasn’t traditional shabu shabu (they don’t serve Szechuan spices in Japan), but it had all the usual trappings. The hot pot was brought to a boil, then we added the vegetables, since they take a short while to cook. The ribeye was sliced paper-thin, and each piece cooked through in about 15–20 seconds. I thought the meatnwas sliced a little too thin, as some of the pieces fell apart inside the pot.

After you’re done eating, the remaining broth makes an appealing soup. This is the part I most look forward to, but there wasn’t as much left as I would have liked. On past occasions, I recall the pot starting more full. At one restaurant, I remember the server coming by mid-meal and adding more broth, but that wasn’t done here.

At some shabu shabu houses, the cooking apparatus is built right into the tables. At Koca Lounge, each table has a built-in induction burner, which heats the pot without getting hot itself. Even the seats at the bar have the burners, so it is pretty clear that the restaurant considers the hot pots its main attraction. The tables are a bit small: ours just barely accommodated the hot pot, two plates of ingredients, our own plates, glasses, and a wine bottle.

The décor is typical Lower East Side post-industrial chic. There’s also an outdoor garden (sans induction burners). There’s a sound track of pop favorites that doesn’t add much to the atmosphere, but at least isn’t loud or obnoxious. The restaurant doesn’t take reservations, but on Friday night it hardly mattered: not a soul was there when we arrived (around 7:30 p.m.), and by the time we left only about six tables were occupied, plus another two outside.

To go with our meal, we ordered a Rioja, which at $27 was the most expensive red wine on the menu. (There are also a number of sakes available.) The total bill before tip came to about $76 including tax, making Koca Lounge one of the better bargains we’ve experienced in a long time.

Koca Lounge (76 Orchard St. between Broome St. and Grand St., Lower East Side)

Food: *½
Service: *
Ambiance: *
Overall: *½

Pacific Coast Highway Album: San Simeon to Monterey

Second in a five-part series (see part 1, part 2)

The segment of California Highway 1 between San Simeon and Monterey offers some of the most spectacular scenery in the world. The road is two lanes for most of the route, twisting and turning through mountain passes. This was about a three-hour drive.

Left & right: Not long past San Simeon, there’s an outlook onto a beach where California Seals sun themselves. They didn’t budge during the time we were there, except to spray sand onto themselves with their flippers. We were fortunate to see them, as it was the third week of March, and their beach season ends around April 1st.

Left: I have to assume this is a father and pup. The larger individual seems too bulky to be a female. Right: No seals in this photo, but this is the view at the same stop, just a couple of hundred feet north.

Left & right: The road to Monterey

Left & right: The road to Monterey

Left: The Bixby Bridge, built in 1932. Right: The view beyond Bixby Bridge.