Sunday, January 20, 2008

San Francisco, Day 2

Sunday, Day two. Debby, Jarett and I rise and shine and head off to Scharffen Berger Chocolate factory in Berkeley. In all her chocolate appreciating wisdom, Debby made a brunch reservation for us at the factory's cafe. After we share a meal of chocolate pancakes (how can you not?) and incredible scrambled eggs with salmon, guyer cheese and scallions, we join a tour group to check out the factory and learn about the small company's history.

Michael, Debby's brother, joins us at this point and we sit looking at photos, smelling and passing around cacao beans in their various stages in the farming and chocolate making process, and are taught the proper way to taste test chocolate. Basically, you act like a wine snob while you take small bits from the little rectangular pieces.

The factory itself, we are surprised to see, is quite
small. They have two roasters, the woman tells us, but only one is used, really. The factory does not run on the week-ends, so it's quite quiet, but seeing what the insides of such a place is like is still so interesting. There is a tiny room with one table at which labelers put the chocolate company's mark on one of their few different flavors/varieties.

Recognizing the rise in the dark chocolate trend and the popularity of specialty and organic chocolates, Hershey bought Scharffen Berger a few years ago. As part of the Hershey policy, there is a metal detector at the end of the little chocolate assembly line, checking to ensure that no loose screws have fallen into the chocolate and made their way into the final product by accident. If metal was found, a little arm would push the piece of chocolate into a large blue bin next to the conveyor belt.

Our tour guide tells us that when the device was first installed, it was calibrated incorrectly. Chocolate bars sans screws or any other type of metal were rejected regularly. Not only that, but the arm pushing the faulty chocolate off the belt was far too strong, and sent the chocolate flying clear over the bucket and into the window which gave us a view of the labeling room a few yards away. Once corrected, the flying chocolate ceased and, as our tour guide tells us, no metal toting chocolate has yet to be found.

At they end, we are funneled into the factory's gift shop. Full of delectable treats at exorbitant prices, I decide not to purchase anything, though the "Ganache for your Lips" lip balm was tempting. I did also waver on how much I needed a really cool shirt which read "(bitter) sweet" or "(ultra) bitter". Somehow, I feel like wearing such a shirt, though completely cool, might convey an aura of bitter spinster. Very approachable. Not so much. Who knows, maybe I will have lack-of-buying remorse. In this case, Debby has agreed to go back and pick one up for me should I suddenly decide that I made a mistake in not purchasing the fun shirt.

From here we head to Muir Woods and I am thrilled to get a chance to see some Redwoods up close. They are grande. The natural skyscrapers are beautiful and humbling. Michael, who owns his own media production company at the ripe old age of 25 (what an underachiever), wanders around us and the wilderness, shooting video with his HD Leica. Not too shabby. From the nice hiking conversations to the discovery of mushrooms and colonies of ladybugs, the visit there is deemed another perfect Debby idea!

Once we are hiked-out, we head back into San Francisco for some pizza. On our way back to the city, we drive over the Golden Gate bridge in all it's "golden hour" (late day/early evening light) glory. We drop off the boys at their homes and Debby and I stop at Trader Joe's grocery store for some treats to go along with our movie rental choice for the evenings wind-down entertainment.

We hang out at her place for our final evening. As we enjoy a cup of tea made from the new tea diffuser she purchased just the day before in Chinatown, we agree that four years between seeing one another is simply not acceptable and our mission from here on out is that it never happens again.

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