Andy Hoffman
For our first Valentine’s Day, Deb and I decided to take a trip. We went to Northern California, as I was anxious to introduce my new and final beloved to my sister and my son. I also wanted to show Deb the places I had lived in Napa and San Anselmo, and my regular stomping grounds. But this wasn’t purely a tour of my past. We would make new memories and travel to delightful and unfamiliar places.
We went to Mendocino, on the wild Northern coast of California, and had a sweet and delightful Valentine’s Day dinner in the adorable town. We slept by the ocean at a motel ten miles north, the sea breeze, pelting rain, and periodic bursts of lightning animating our time in bed. When I woke up, I looked for breakfast recommendations online and came up with Ravens. While it wasn’t on the water, or even in Mendocino proper, it was in the direction we had to go that day.
We got ourselves dressed and out the door, the entire landscape washed clean by the winter rains. Bed and her phone navigated us up a mountainside south of Mendocino, I wondering aloud what I had got us into. I had expected Ravens to occupy a roadside shack, as so many restaurants up here did, but instead it turned out the Ravens was the restaurant for a luxury hotel nestled into a tiny valley halfway to the top of the mountain. Surrounded by terraced farms and beautiful grounds, the Stanford Inn had mastered casual elegance. From the outside, the building had clearly been designed for the site. Inside, where you might expect a touch of formality, it felt homey. Modest rooms and hallways opened onto windows revealing the grounds and the Pacific Ocean beyond. The guests – the few we saw – give off a laid-back California vibe.
Eventually we found Ravens, where the waitstaff seemed attuned to the style of the guests. We got a table at a window and reviewed the menu. And that’s when it hit us: Ravens was Vegan. No eggs. No cheese. No butter. The Stanford Inn had carved out a niche for itself among a well-to-do New Age clientele. We briefly considered leaving but having come this far it felt churlish. Give them a chance, I thought. Their signature brunch, herbed polenta, was grilled “with garden greens sauteed in our braising sauce. Served with cashew cream sauce.” Deb had the portobello benedict, on a homemade English muffin and a Hollandaise, also made from cashew cream.
An extraordinarily delicious breakfast, with a memorable view, and a perfect celebration of our first Valentine’s Day. We will probably forget many other Valentine’s Day brunches, but we will never forget Ravens, the view, the strangeness of the food and the place, the wonder of taking it all in together.
In the high season, Ravens’ customers can wait an hour or more. Reserve well in advance, you adventurous souls.