Hard to believe that Marion is dying. 87 years old. Hard to believe she is 87. If I did not think about her age I would of thought she was about 55. How the mind can decieve.
Go swfitly dear friend. No more pain.
I will look for you on the sunrise at the beach here in Mexico.
love,
Billy
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Marion Cunningham Editor of Fannie Farmer Cookbooks, Food Writer, dying in San Francisco Bay Area
Dreams of Marion. Dying, living , all of it.
One of my memories of Marion.
In the 1970's. Michael James and I were catering a party for Frances Dinkelspeil Green, great grandaughter of Isaias W. Hellman, the founder of the Wells Fargo Bank and also heirss of Hellmans mayonaise which became Best Foods. For about 10 years, fromm 1973 until about 1983 we did approximately 5 dinner parties a year for Mrs. Green plus a huge fourth of July party every year. Marion always worked with us on the July 4th party. The guest list ranged from 150-300 people every year. Given at their house in Atherton, outside of San Francisco. Marion, Michael and Akiko Matsuo always did the desserts. and they were wonderful. I especially remember Marion's bread pudding made with crusty baggette. Wow.
Somewhere along the way, we did the Green's youngest daughters wedding , Florence Green Marchick, 7 layers of weeking cake each with it's own seat for the plane ride from LA to SFO. They were too fragile to put in the baggage area of the plane. Quite a cake. Done in that wonderful style of Gaston Lenotre.(Richard worked for Gaston Lenotre, as had Michael James) Pulled sugar decorations, 7 layers of cake presented on huge slabs of nougatine and pillars of nougatine and fondant. Also, he brough along more tan 3,000 sweet amuseguele, petitfours, tiny chocolate and coffee eclairs, etc, etc.
Marion helped us alot with this party. Their was a staff of over a hundred people.
But guess what. No dishwashers. How is it possible? Where are the dishwashers. Drunk. Not to be seen. Was it possible they were never hired? Well, she asked for 20 waiters to volunteer, strip down to their shorts, she put on a bathing suit and in they went in the pool and washed all of the dishes in the pool. Must of cost a mint to repair the filtering system in the pool. But it worked. We laughed for days; until we were literally sick. The person that laughed the most was Marion. She was a trooper. A great person. A great friend.
One of my memories of Marion.
In the 1970's. Michael James and I were catering a party for Frances Dinkelspeil Green, great grandaughter of Isaias W. Hellman, the founder of the Wells Fargo Bank and also heirss of Hellmans mayonaise which became Best Foods. For about 10 years, fromm 1973 until about 1983 we did approximately 5 dinner parties a year for Mrs. Green plus a huge fourth of July party every year. Marion always worked with us on the July 4th party. The guest list ranged from 150-300 people every year. Given at their house in Atherton, outside of San Francisco. Marion, Michael and Akiko Matsuo always did the desserts. and they were wonderful. I especially remember Marion's bread pudding made with crusty baggette. Wow.
Somewhere along the way, we did the Green's youngest daughters wedding , Florence Green Marchick, 7 layers of weeking cake each with it's own seat for the plane ride from LA to SFO. They were too fragile to put in the baggage area of the plane. Quite a cake. Done in that wonderful style of Gaston Lenotre.(Richard worked for Gaston Lenotre, as had Michael James) Pulled sugar decorations, 7 layers of cake presented on huge slabs of nougatine and pillars of nougatine and fondant. Also, he brough along more tan 3,000 sweet amuseguele, petitfours, tiny chocolate and coffee eclairs, etc, etc.
Marion helped us alot with this party. Their was a staff of over a hundred people.
But guess what. No dishwashers. How is it possible? Where are the dishwashers. Drunk. Not to be seen. Was it possible they were never hired? Well, she asked for 20 waiters to volunteer, strip down to their shorts, she put on a bathing suit and in they went in the pool and washed all of the dishes in the pool. Must of cost a mint to repair the filtering system in the pool. But it worked. We laughed for days; until we were literally sick. The person that laughed the most was Marion. She was a trooper. A great person. A great friend.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Reported by a friend that Marion Cunnningham, editor of the Fannie Farmer Cookbooks and her own personal books is dying in a nursing home in Bay Area
It is with great sadness that a friend called me here in Villa del Angel , my house on the beach north of Acapulco on the road to Ixtapa on the Pacific coast of Mexic to tell me that Marion Cunningham, my great friend of 27 years is dying in a nursing home in the Bay Area of California. She is 87 years old. I think she was born on February 7, 1922 in Los Angeles. She has been in a nursing home or an assisted living enviornment for the past few years. Isolated from her friends and the public. Her family took her away from the world "for her betterment". Few of us agree in this logic. She is reported to be a Hospice Patient and expected to live only a short time.
We have been through everything together. The great, good times and the really horrible awful times. But our friendship survived. I would say that our friendship will survive her death. She meant everything to me. As she did to many, many people. The public Marion Cunningham was the same person you saw as a friend. She had a quality that very few people have. She was very interested in YOU. I use the past tense not because she has died; but because she went away. Into the world of Alzheimers and dementia. Lost about five years ago. Her family not allowing anyone to see her nor talk to her. The worst thing that can happen to a person who is fading away. But we all retreated. Including me. We all gave up. Except for maybe one friend of hers that will go un-named. The one that stayed behind with her.
We have been through everything together. The great, good times and the really horrible awful times. But our friendship survived. I would say that our friendship will survive her death. She meant everything to me. As she did to many, many people. The public Marion Cunningham was the same person you saw as a friend. She had a quality that very few people have. She was very interested in YOU. I use the past tense not because she has died; but because she went away. Into the world of Alzheimers and dementia. Lost about five years ago. Her family not allowing anyone to see her nor talk to her. The worst thing that can happen to a person who is fading away. But we all retreated. Including me. We all gave up. Except for maybe one friend of hers that will go un-named. The one that stayed behind with her.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico
Here in Cuernavaca. Just finishing construction on a beautiful new bungalow on my property. In about 10 days I am taking off for Barcelona: http://www.casabillybarcelona.com
hoping to leave Barcelona the middle of September and go onto New Delhi, Kerala and then onto Bali.
Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson. A bit much !!
hoping to leave Barcelona the middle of September and go onto New Delhi, Kerala and then onto Bali.
Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson. A bit much !!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Julia Child was homophobic/Great Chefs of France/Billy Cross, Michael James/Robert Mondavi Winery
Yes, Julia was definitely homophobic.
See my previous blog.
Billy
See my previous blog.
Billy
Billy Cross, Michael James, Julia Child, Simone Beck: Casa de Billy Barcelona: May 17, 2009
I arrived back in Barcelona a few days ago. Only here until next week. Wednesday, May 20th to be exact. I did not mean to come back to Barcelona. I was acutally. after my birthday celebrations in Miami, on my way back to Mexico City and Cuernavaca. But because of the flu scare I decided to wait a little bit to see how the crisis played itself out. So, I came back to Barcelona for a week.
Tomorrow, the 18th of May would of been the 59th birthday of my ex-boyfriend and business partner for 20 years; Michael James. His full name was Michael James Vlamis. He was half French (mothers side) and half Greek on his fathers side (thus Vlamis). But he was known professionally, as a chef and cookbook author and food writer, as Michael James. He died from complications from AIDS on the 25th of July, 1993.
I met Michael in September of 1972. At the time he was working for Simone Beck the co-author with Julia Child of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. In 1968 Michael had written to Julia Child and told her that he wanted to be a chef. She wrote back to him and told him to go to France, especially since he had family living in Paris. (part of his mother's family). So he showed Julias letter to his parents and off he went to France. They thought it would be just a 3 months sojurn to France. He was a student at the University of California at Berkeley where his father was a professor. His mother was shocked at the idea of a child of hers becomming a chef. For her being a chef was not an acceptable vocation for someone that came from a family"like us".
But off Michael went to France. One of his aunts was Editor in Chief of the French edition of House and Garden Magazine. Her name was Francoise. She welcomed him warmly and loved the idea that he wanted to become a chef. She took him with her to the Club Gastronome de Paris. During a luncheon she introduced him to Mme. Simone Beck who was Julia Childs French partner.
He was asked to call on "Simca" as she was known to her friend, the next day. Michaels' French was perfect since he had been speaking it since he was a young boy. Obviously, his native language was English. Plus, he knew how to write and had a classics education at one of the finest universities in the world, U.C. Berkeley.
Michael was the perfect assistant for Simca as she wanted to start writing a new book in English (which she spoke fluently, but did not write fluently). So, she asked Michael to go to work for her.
In 1972 he was on a book tour with her for the publisher Alfred A. Knopf. They came to San Francisco. I was working for Alice Waters at Chez Panisse in Berkeley. I worked as a barman upstairs. One thing led to another and Michael and I became lovers and in December of 1972 I moved to Paris to live with Michael. We lived in Paris and in the south of France at Simone Becks estate, Bramafam, near Mougins, inland from Cannes.
After a while, with some difficulty, "Simca" realized that I was Michael's boyfriend and I was not going to be easily kicked to one side. Simca had lot's gay male friends. The cookbook author Richard Olney being one of them. But her first marriage was to a closeted gay man and that marrige was never consumated and after a short while she divorced him. The great love of her life was her second husband, the wonderful, smart, charming and totally heterosexual Jean Fischbacher. Simca had accepted that Michael was gay but she had hard time (in the beginning) to accept that he had a long time companion. Me. But within the first year that I was with Michael she accepted me totally and for the next 20 plus years I never had a problem with Simca.
Julia Child, however, was another kettle of fish. She had a very complicated relationship with Simca. In the beginning there were three authors of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Julia, Simca and their 3rd partner Louisette Berthole. Louisette was with them only on Mastering Vol I. Vol. II was Julia and Simca. But after Vol I was published Julia decided to get rid of Simca and publish Vol II without Simca. Well, lucikly they had a contract and Simca hired a lawyer in New York to defend her rights. Simca told me that Julia told her that it was Paul Child, Julia's arrogant and neurotic husband, that wanted to get rid of Simca. Simca never bought that version. And from that moment on she never trusted Julia. She loved her as a sister, but she never trusted her with money and business dealings. Simca was very smart when it came to money and business. She came from a very successfull family that owned vineyards, wineries and realestate in Paris, Normandy and in Cannes. Her family also owned the company that made Benedicine Liquor.
When Michael and I started the Great Chefs of France Cooking School in the Napa Valley of California, in 1974, our first visiting chef was Simone Beck. Julia was furious. The school had attracted a huge amount of press. It was billed by the press (not by us) as the Most Expensive Cooking School in the World. It cost 1,500 US dollars for 5 days. Including lodging. Simca, Michael and I and the students all stayed at High Tree Farm, the 9 acre estate that we had rented in the Napa Valley near the small town of Rutherford. It was a glorious place. It had a total of 9 bedrooms with baths, guesthouse, staff quarters, flower gardens, herb gardens, stables for 6 horses, tennis courts and a beautiful swimming pool and garden that had been designed by Tommy Church one of the foremost garden designers of his time. We had 12 students that came from all over the world. CBS evening news with John Chancelor covered it live from New York. Craig Claibourne of the New York Times did a major article on the school. It was a great success and much fun.
But Julia did not feel the same way about Simca's (and our) success. After the piece aired on the national evening news she called us up. She was furious. She got all three of us on diffeent extension telephones and told us that she had to protect Simca from being associated with homsexuals like us, etc. etc. Simca finally had to tell Julia "shut up". She said, " I appreciate your concern about me but I trust Michael and Billy and we are having great success her in the Napa Valley. Finally, Simca gave Michael and I the "hang up the phone" sign and she had it out with Julia ; one to one of the phone. I only heard Simca's side of the conversation. But after Simca was off of the phone she was pissed off. She said that Julia was jealous of our success and because she had not made the decision to come and teach at the school. Actually, Michael had asked Julia to come with Simca and to teach at the school and she declined. She was too busy. Also, we paid Simca, 10,000 dollars for 5 days plus 2 round trip first class airfares from France. Julia had told Michael that she did not work for that small amount of money. We decided, with Simca, to immediately accept Julia's comment and we did not offer to raise the offer.
It was almost 5 years before Julia agreed to teach at our cooking school in the Napa Valley. She accepted 10,000 dollars for the week. I have heard and read comments of many people saying that Julia never accepted money for the public thinigs she did. That was definitely not my experience. Everything was always first class around Julia. As it should of been. Hotel suites,flowers, limousines, hairdresser, make-up artist, etc. She told us she never wanted to teach with Simca. Simca taught for one week, then left the Napa Valley and went back to France and then a month later Julia arrived and taught for a week. Julia was very insecure around Simca. Most of the ideas and most of the recipes for those
Mastering the Art of French Cooking books came from Simca, and in the beginning, Lousiette Berthole.
But it was mostly Simca that would find the recipes, test them and send them onto Julia to adapt to the American kitchen. Simca was a visionary and loved to experiment. Julia was pragmatic and dogmatic. In the end Julia ruled.
Eventually Robert Mondavi offered us a deal to take the school to the Robert Mondavi Winery in Oakville. We had gone to Robert Mondavi in 1973 (as we had gone to all of the major winemakers in the Napa Valley) and asked if he would become a sponsor of the Great Chefs of France Cooking School and he flatly said no. But through that experience we became lifelong friends with Margrit Biever, his Director of Public Relations and the woman that would become the second Mrs. Robert Mondavi. To this day I cherish my friendship with Margrit Biever Mondavi.
But Julia always held a grude against Michael and myself. Also, she had very outdated and strange view points about gay men. She told Simca that she thought that many gay men were involved in S and M sex and that they secretly wore leather clothes when they went out looking for sex. I don't know who Julia knew that was gay but obviously she had gotten to know or observed some "leather queens".
When Julia finally came to the Napa Valley to teach at our cooking school we had a problem. She had several gay men that worked for her. Principally, Bob Johnson, her lawyer. Well Bob had a boyfriend by the name of Hal, that Julia despized. Julia did not like Hal because he was gay. She did not know that he owned a gay sex club in San Francisco called the Cauldron, in the Folsom street part of town. It was a pretty sleezy gay sex club. Hal was a smart and sweet guy that figured out that his "niche" in the gay sex scene was to paint the walls of his club black and he bought about 15 claw foot white procelain bath tubs and put them around the club. Each bathtub had a pin spot that shined on the tub. Normally the kind of spot to illuminate a beautiful arrangement of flowers in a hotel lobby. But this light illuminated a naked man sitting in the tub while 5 or 6 men would stand around and urinate and masterbate and ejaculate on him.
Julia also had a couple of production assistants that were gay that worked for her on her tv show. All in all she arrived with 3 or 4 gay men that worked for her plus her long time companion and assistant Rosemary Mannell and an assistant named Maggie.
Rosemary Mannell was a wonderful person. Everything that Julia was not, Rosemary was. Rosie always had a smile on her face. Very smart,very kind. I think she worked for Julia for mayber 30 years. Rosemary protected Julia. But unlike some of the other people around Julia (including Paul Child) she did it with a great deal of kindness and in a friendly manner. Eventually, Rosie got sick. She had to retire. Later on she developed Alzheimer's. She also had very little money. Catherine Brandel and a group of Rosie's friends put together some money to help take care of Rosie. They asked me to donate; which I did. They asked Julia, her long time friend and employeer to donate. She declined. Catherine told me her response to the request to help Rosie financially was to Catherine: "you know dearie we don't do that kind of thing". I had heard that many times from Julia over the years. Julia, many times, spoke in the plural form "we". "We" was the way that she would sometime refer to Julia Child. It was a little bit like the way the Pope speaks. I remember I was producing a live cooking event for Julia in Phoneix, Arizona to benefit the Phoneix Symphony. A local tv show had asked if she would come to the station and be interviewed. She said to me " you know Billy. We don't go to them (meaning the media), they come to us". That is also the time, after a long day of work that she cracked open a bottle of booze and poured us a drink and as she flopped down in a big easy chair she turned to me and said " Well dearie, better a little alkie than a little druggie". That was Julia.
Eventually, Rosemary Mannell, after all of those years with Julia, died in poverty. After Rosie was put in an institution I never heard Julia mention her name. But Julia kept on going.
Bob Johnson, Julia's lawyer called me about 2 months before their arrival and said "Look Billy, we need your help. All of our boyfriends want to come up to the Napa Valley for the week and hang out with us but we can't let Julia know or she will have a fit". So I went out and rented a house for the "boyfriends". They were never allowed at the Robert Mondavi winery, where the classes and dinners were held. But we hired a wonderful chef and a staff to cook and take care of the "boyfriends". Michael and I, and many of our staff (many who were gay men ) would put in a 12 hour day at the winery and then in the evening go over and spend part of the night enjoying the company of the gay men that silently and quitely lived with their lovers behind Julia's back. We took care of Bob Johnson and the other gay men around Julia because we were embrassed that she did not care enough about them. She did not recogize the whole of them. It is as if Julia had the ability to pick what she needed about people and then toss what was left over, like garbage, out of the window.
Fast forwarding into the early 80's. Bob Johnson, his boyfriend Hal, and all of the other gay men that were around Julia, died. Bob died about 1986. They all died of AIDS. Never a peep from Julia. I sent her a letter sending my concolences about the death of her lawyer Bob Johnson. Never a response.
In 1982 Michael James was diagnosed as being HIV positive. As we walked out of the doctors office he turned to me and said " we will keep this to ourselves". If Julia ever finds out that I am sick she will turn on us again. So until 1990 we kept quiet about his HIV status. Which lots of gay men did. But then he decided that he needed to "come out of the closet about having AIDS" and he did. In a big way. He started giving speeches all over the USA and in France about AIDS and HIV and how not to get it and how it felt to be infected, etc, etc.
In 1992 Michael and I decided to celebrate our 20th Anniversary as a couple and 20 years of The Great Chefs of France Cooking School. There was a committee that sponsored the event. They were all women whom we had known over the last 20-25 years. The list of sponsors of the event were accompolished women like: Margrit Biever Mondavi, Alice Waters of Chez Panisse, Catherine Brandel of Chez Panisse, Rick O'Connell, famous California Chef and cookbook writer, Jeannette Costeiu from Miami, etc, etc,. Michael asked me to ask Julia to be on the committee. For some reason, Julia and I had maintained a distant but somewhat friendly relationship. We would talk on the phone a couple of times a year. We would see each other at certain wine and food events. I even produced some cooking demonstrations for her to benefit various charities. I was invited to go see her and her husband Paul in Santa Barbara. Michael was never invited. I think that Julia had a certain respect for me because I was not afraid or intimidated by her. I respected her talent and what she had done to bring the importantce of good food to America. Also, she knew that I knew that she hated gay people. And I think that possibly, in some way , she needed to say to herself , "well, I may not like gay people but I have Billy Cross as a friend" " they can't say I am completley anti-gay".
So, when it came time to ask Julia to be on the committee for the Celebration dinner that was to benefit people with HIV and AIDS it fell to me to ask her. I sent her a letter. I had learned a long time ago to always address letters to Julia not as Julia Child but as Mrs. Paul Child. She liked that. I sent off a letter requesting the use of her name for the committee. No response. Finally, I called her up on the 'phone. I asked her straight out if she would let us put her on the committee. Her comment; straight out, was: "Dearie, you know we never get involved in these kinds of things". That was it. Done.
We had the event, it was successfull and fun. The San Francisco Gay Mens Chorus came to the event that was held in the Napa Valley. About 300 guests came and friends and chefs and winemakers from all over the world attended. It was great.
Within 1 year Michael was dead.
A memorial in his honor was being organized in San Francisco. A couple of days before the event a producer from Peter Jennings office at ABC News in New York called and asked if they could do a live feed from the service and could they interview me. I was inclined to say no; but I felt I owed it to Michael to make a few comments.
They inteviewd several of the over 600 people in attendance. The live feed lasted about 5-6 minutes. I am glad I allowed them to do it. I still have a copy of the piece and every few years I pull it out and remember.
A week later a simple 3-5 notecard arrived from Julia. It said, "I saw Peter Jennings piece on Michael's memorial. So sorry he died." Love, Julia.
That was it.
When she died I was living in Mexico City. I followed the wishes of her niece who suggested that people get together and have a dinner to celebrate Julia's life. I cried and cooked for 3 days and invited a large group of friends to celebrate Julia's life with me. I kept thinking that I was going to ruin the food by letting my tears fall into the batter for the genoise. Like the beautiful kitchen scene in the brilliant book by Laura Esquivel, "Like Water for Chocolate" But it all turned out well. Some of the people I invited had never heard of Julia Child. But like many Mexicans they were respectful of my need to have them with me during this meal to honor Julia and to allow me to share my joys and sorrows.
Like all of us, Julia was flawed. Sometimes her flaws were very painful to me personally and to other people that I knew. But in the end I am grateful for her to lead me to Chez Panisse where I met Michael and Simca and to lead me to a life in "La Belle France" and the Napa Valley and Mexico and now to Barcelona.
Thanks Julia, may you rest in peace. And I think it is important to say that I forgive you. You had your own demons and , again, like all of us, you did the best you could.
love,
Billy
Tomorrow, the 18th of May would of been the 59th birthday of my ex-boyfriend and business partner for 20 years; Michael James. His full name was Michael James Vlamis. He was half French (mothers side) and half Greek on his fathers side (thus Vlamis). But he was known professionally, as a chef and cookbook author and food writer, as Michael James. He died from complications from AIDS on the 25th of July, 1993.
I met Michael in September of 1972. At the time he was working for Simone Beck the co-author with Julia Child of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. In 1968 Michael had written to Julia Child and told her that he wanted to be a chef. She wrote back to him and told him to go to France, especially since he had family living in Paris. (part of his mother's family). So he showed Julias letter to his parents and off he went to France. They thought it would be just a 3 months sojurn to France. He was a student at the University of California at Berkeley where his father was a professor. His mother was shocked at the idea of a child of hers becomming a chef. For her being a chef was not an acceptable vocation for someone that came from a family"like us".
But off Michael went to France. One of his aunts was Editor in Chief of the French edition of House and Garden Magazine. Her name was Francoise. She welcomed him warmly and loved the idea that he wanted to become a chef. She took him with her to the Club Gastronome de Paris. During a luncheon she introduced him to Mme. Simone Beck who was Julia Childs French partner.
He was asked to call on "Simca" as she was known to her friend, the next day. Michaels' French was perfect since he had been speaking it since he was a young boy. Obviously, his native language was English. Plus, he knew how to write and had a classics education at one of the finest universities in the world, U.C. Berkeley.
Michael was the perfect assistant for Simca as she wanted to start writing a new book in English (which she spoke fluently, but did not write fluently). So, she asked Michael to go to work for her.
In 1972 he was on a book tour with her for the publisher Alfred A. Knopf. They came to San Francisco. I was working for Alice Waters at Chez Panisse in Berkeley. I worked as a barman upstairs. One thing led to another and Michael and I became lovers and in December of 1972 I moved to Paris to live with Michael. We lived in Paris and in the south of France at Simone Becks estate, Bramafam, near Mougins, inland from Cannes.
After a while, with some difficulty, "Simca" realized that I was Michael's boyfriend and I was not going to be easily kicked to one side. Simca had lot's gay male friends. The cookbook author Richard Olney being one of them. But her first marriage was to a closeted gay man and that marrige was never consumated and after a short while she divorced him. The great love of her life was her second husband, the wonderful, smart, charming and totally heterosexual Jean Fischbacher. Simca had accepted that Michael was gay but she had hard time (in the beginning) to accept that he had a long time companion. Me. But within the first year that I was with Michael she accepted me totally and for the next 20 plus years I never had a problem with Simca.
Julia Child, however, was another kettle of fish. She had a very complicated relationship with Simca. In the beginning there were three authors of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Julia, Simca and their 3rd partner Louisette Berthole. Louisette was with them only on Mastering Vol I. Vol. II was Julia and Simca. But after Vol I was published Julia decided to get rid of Simca and publish Vol II without Simca. Well, lucikly they had a contract and Simca hired a lawyer in New York to defend her rights. Simca told me that Julia told her that it was Paul Child, Julia's arrogant and neurotic husband, that wanted to get rid of Simca. Simca never bought that version. And from that moment on she never trusted Julia. She loved her as a sister, but she never trusted her with money and business dealings. Simca was very smart when it came to money and business. She came from a very successfull family that owned vineyards, wineries and realestate in Paris, Normandy and in Cannes. Her family also owned the company that made Benedicine Liquor.
When Michael and I started the Great Chefs of France Cooking School in the Napa Valley of California, in 1974, our first visiting chef was Simone Beck. Julia was furious. The school had attracted a huge amount of press. It was billed by the press (not by us) as the Most Expensive Cooking School in the World. It cost 1,500 US dollars for 5 days. Including lodging. Simca, Michael and I and the students all stayed at High Tree Farm, the 9 acre estate that we had rented in the Napa Valley near the small town of Rutherford. It was a glorious place. It had a total of 9 bedrooms with baths, guesthouse, staff quarters, flower gardens, herb gardens, stables for 6 horses, tennis courts and a beautiful swimming pool and garden that had been designed by Tommy Church one of the foremost garden designers of his time. We had 12 students that came from all over the world. CBS evening news with John Chancelor covered it live from New York. Craig Claibourne of the New York Times did a major article on the school. It was a great success and much fun.
But Julia did not feel the same way about Simca's (and our) success. After the piece aired on the national evening news she called us up. She was furious. She got all three of us on diffeent extension telephones and told us that she had to protect Simca from being associated with homsexuals like us, etc. etc. Simca finally had to tell Julia "shut up". She said, " I appreciate your concern about me but I trust Michael and Billy and we are having great success her in the Napa Valley. Finally, Simca gave Michael and I the "hang up the phone" sign and she had it out with Julia ; one to one of the phone. I only heard Simca's side of the conversation. But after Simca was off of the phone she was pissed off. She said that Julia was jealous of our success and because she had not made the decision to come and teach at the school. Actually, Michael had asked Julia to come with Simca and to teach at the school and she declined. She was too busy. Also, we paid Simca, 10,000 dollars for 5 days plus 2 round trip first class airfares from France. Julia had told Michael that she did not work for that small amount of money. We decided, with Simca, to immediately accept Julia's comment and we did not offer to raise the offer.
It was almost 5 years before Julia agreed to teach at our cooking school in the Napa Valley. She accepted 10,000 dollars for the week. I have heard and read comments of many people saying that Julia never accepted money for the public thinigs she did. That was definitely not my experience. Everything was always first class around Julia. As it should of been. Hotel suites,flowers, limousines, hairdresser, make-up artist, etc. She told us she never wanted to teach with Simca. Simca taught for one week, then left the Napa Valley and went back to France and then a month later Julia arrived and taught for a week. Julia was very insecure around Simca. Most of the ideas and most of the recipes for those
Mastering the Art of French Cooking books came from Simca, and in the beginning, Lousiette Berthole.
But it was mostly Simca that would find the recipes, test them and send them onto Julia to adapt to the American kitchen. Simca was a visionary and loved to experiment. Julia was pragmatic and dogmatic. In the end Julia ruled.
Eventually Robert Mondavi offered us a deal to take the school to the Robert Mondavi Winery in Oakville. We had gone to Robert Mondavi in 1973 (as we had gone to all of the major winemakers in the Napa Valley) and asked if he would become a sponsor of the Great Chefs of France Cooking School and he flatly said no. But through that experience we became lifelong friends with Margrit Biever, his Director of Public Relations and the woman that would become the second Mrs. Robert Mondavi. To this day I cherish my friendship with Margrit Biever Mondavi.
But Julia always held a grude against Michael and myself. Also, she had very outdated and strange view points about gay men. She told Simca that she thought that many gay men were involved in S and M sex and that they secretly wore leather clothes when they went out looking for sex. I don't know who Julia knew that was gay but obviously she had gotten to know or observed some "leather queens".
When Julia finally came to the Napa Valley to teach at our cooking school we had a problem. She had several gay men that worked for her. Principally, Bob Johnson, her lawyer. Well Bob had a boyfriend by the name of Hal, that Julia despized. Julia did not like Hal because he was gay. She did not know that he owned a gay sex club in San Francisco called the Cauldron, in the Folsom street part of town. It was a pretty sleezy gay sex club. Hal was a smart and sweet guy that figured out that his "niche" in the gay sex scene was to paint the walls of his club black and he bought about 15 claw foot white procelain bath tubs and put them around the club. Each bathtub had a pin spot that shined on the tub. Normally the kind of spot to illuminate a beautiful arrangement of flowers in a hotel lobby. But this light illuminated a naked man sitting in the tub while 5 or 6 men would stand around and urinate and masterbate and ejaculate on him.
Julia also had a couple of production assistants that were gay that worked for her on her tv show. All in all she arrived with 3 or 4 gay men that worked for her plus her long time companion and assistant Rosemary Mannell and an assistant named Maggie.
Rosemary Mannell was a wonderful person. Everything that Julia was not, Rosemary was. Rosie always had a smile on her face. Very smart,very kind. I think she worked for Julia for mayber 30 years. Rosemary protected Julia. But unlike some of the other people around Julia (including Paul Child) she did it with a great deal of kindness and in a friendly manner. Eventually, Rosie got sick. She had to retire. Later on she developed Alzheimer's. She also had very little money. Catherine Brandel and a group of Rosie's friends put together some money to help take care of Rosie. They asked me to donate; which I did. They asked Julia, her long time friend and employeer to donate. She declined. Catherine told me her response to the request to help Rosie financially was to Catherine: "you know dearie we don't do that kind of thing". I had heard that many times from Julia over the years. Julia, many times, spoke in the plural form "we". "We" was the way that she would sometime refer to Julia Child. It was a little bit like the way the Pope speaks. I remember I was producing a live cooking event for Julia in Phoneix, Arizona to benefit the Phoneix Symphony. A local tv show had asked if she would come to the station and be interviewed. She said to me " you know Billy. We don't go to them (meaning the media), they come to us". That is also the time, after a long day of work that she cracked open a bottle of booze and poured us a drink and as she flopped down in a big easy chair she turned to me and said " Well dearie, better a little alkie than a little druggie". That was Julia.
Eventually, Rosemary Mannell, after all of those years with Julia, died in poverty. After Rosie was put in an institution I never heard Julia mention her name. But Julia kept on going.
Bob Johnson, Julia's lawyer called me about 2 months before their arrival and said "Look Billy, we need your help. All of our boyfriends want to come up to the Napa Valley for the week and hang out with us but we can't let Julia know or she will have a fit". So I went out and rented a house for the "boyfriends". They were never allowed at the Robert Mondavi winery, where the classes and dinners were held. But we hired a wonderful chef and a staff to cook and take care of the "boyfriends". Michael and I, and many of our staff (many who were gay men ) would put in a 12 hour day at the winery and then in the evening go over and spend part of the night enjoying the company of the gay men that silently and quitely lived with their lovers behind Julia's back. We took care of Bob Johnson and the other gay men around Julia because we were embrassed that she did not care enough about them. She did not recogize the whole of them. It is as if Julia had the ability to pick what she needed about people and then toss what was left over, like garbage, out of the window.
Fast forwarding into the early 80's. Bob Johnson, his boyfriend Hal, and all of the other gay men that were around Julia, died. Bob died about 1986. They all died of AIDS. Never a peep from Julia. I sent her a letter sending my concolences about the death of her lawyer Bob Johnson. Never a response.
In 1982 Michael James was diagnosed as being HIV positive. As we walked out of the doctors office he turned to me and said " we will keep this to ourselves". If Julia ever finds out that I am sick she will turn on us again. So until 1990 we kept quiet about his HIV status. Which lots of gay men did. But then he decided that he needed to "come out of the closet about having AIDS" and he did. In a big way. He started giving speeches all over the USA and in France about AIDS and HIV and how not to get it and how it felt to be infected, etc, etc.
In 1992 Michael and I decided to celebrate our 20th Anniversary as a couple and 20 years of The Great Chefs of France Cooking School. There was a committee that sponsored the event. They were all women whom we had known over the last 20-25 years. The list of sponsors of the event were accompolished women like: Margrit Biever Mondavi, Alice Waters of Chez Panisse, Catherine Brandel of Chez Panisse, Rick O'Connell, famous California Chef and cookbook writer, Jeannette Costeiu from Miami, etc, etc,. Michael asked me to ask Julia to be on the committee. For some reason, Julia and I had maintained a distant but somewhat friendly relationship. We would talk on the phone a couple of times a year. We would see each other at certain wine and food events. I even produced some cooking demonstrations for her to benefit various charities. I was invited to go see her and her husband Paul in Santa Barbara. Michael was never invited. I think that Julia had a certain respect for me because I was not afraid or intimidated by her. I respected her talent and what she had done to bring the importantce of good food to America. Also, she knew that I knew that she hated gay people. And I think that possibly, in some way , she needed to say to herself , "well, I may not like gay people but I have Billy Cross as a friend" " they can't say I am completley anti-gay".
So, when it came time to ask Julia to be on the committee for the Celebration dinner that was to benefit people with HIV and AIDS it fell to me to ask her. I sent her a letter. I had learned a long time ago to always address letters to Julia not as Julia Child but as Mrs. Paul Child. She liked that. I sent off a letter requesting the use of her name for the committee. No response. Finally, I called her up on the 'phone. I asked her straight out if she would let us put her on the committee. Her comment; straight out, was: "Dearie, you know we never get involved in these kinds of things". That was it. Done.
We had the event, it was successfull and fun. The San Francisco Gay Mens Chorus came to the event that was held in the Napa Valley. About 300 guests came and friends and chefs and winemakers from all over the world attended. It was great.
Within 1 year Michael was dead.
A memorial in his honor was being organized in San Francisco. A couple of days before the event a producer from Peter Jennings office at ABC News in New York called and asked if they could do a live feed from the service and could they interview me. I was inclined to say no; but I felt I owed it to Michael to make a few comments.
They inteviewd several of the over 600 people in attendance. The live feed lasted about 5-6 minutes. I am glad I allowed them to do it. I still have a copy of the piece and every few years I pull it out and remember.
A week later a simple 3-5 notecard arrived from Julia. It said, "I saw Peter Jennings piece on Michael's memorial. So sorry he died." Love, Julia.
That was it.
When she died I was living in Mexico City. I followed the wishes of her niece who suggested that people get together and have a dinner to celebrate Julia's life. I cried and cooked for 3 days and invited a large group of friends to celebrate Julia's life with me. I kept thinking that I was going to ruin the food by letting my tears fall into the batter for the genoise. Like the beautiful kitchen scene in the brilliant book by Laura Esquivel, "Like Water for Chocolate" But it all turned out well. Some of the people I invited had never heard of Julia Child. But like many Mexicans they were respectful of my need to have them with me during this meal to honor Julia and to allow me to share my joys and sorrows.
Like all of us, Julia was flawed. Sometimes her flaws were very painful to me personally and to other people that I knew. But in the end I am grateful for her to lead me to Chez Panisse where I met Michael and Simca and to lead me to a life in "La Belle France" and the Napa Valley and Mexico and now to Barcelona.
Thanks Julia, may you rest in peace. And I think it is important to say that I forgive you. You had your own demons and , again, like all of us, you did the best you could.
love,
Billy
Saturday, May 2, 2009
May 2, 2009, Miami, Florida: Billy's birthday: Casa de Billy Barcelona
Today is my 64th birthday. Taurus, the Bull. Last night, here in Miami Beach, Jeannette Costeiu gave me a lovely party. Old friends came. Catherine Jacuqard , my old friend from Paris who was also a great friend of Michael James my ex boyfriend who died. She works for Sisley Cosmetics, perfumes and skincare out of Paris. She lives in Miami Beach and is in charge of North America. Her husband, Michel Mastantuono could not come. But great to see Cattou.
Also a friend of about 35 years, Woody Schwartz, Doctor of Chinese Medicine. Has a beautiful Clinic in Aventura. Carlos Conrique Sandoval, ( my ex-boyfriend and his current boyfriend of 10 years) Kevin Seifried. Also, Calude Malo the decorator from Montreal and Paris. It was a lovely dinner. Shrimp scampi (more like a bisque) with Jasmine rice. The birthday cake was spectacular. A lady friend of Kevin's , from Haiti, made the birthday cake. She makes the best American style 3 layer cakes I have ever had. This one, for my birthday, was a red velvet with white cream cheese frosting and decorated with candied cherries. Delicious beyond words.
Received greetings from Joaquin Zagal Dominguez, Anthony Rabara (my first boyfriend from days in Sacramento, California in the 60's,) Carlos Tepox (from Veracruz who now lives in San Diego). All of the ex-boyfriends sent their wishes and I am grateful. Carlos and Kevin presented me with a beautiful, huge, bouquet of pink roses and pink tulips. Carlos cooked a delicious dinner of grilled chicken breast, grilled steak and grilled sweetbreads with delicious barbecue sauce made with Jack Daniels whiskey. Really wonderful.
I am enjoying being in Miami. I used to own an apartment here in South Beach; but got tired of the superficial life of Miami. Much better for me to live half of the year in Spain and half of the year in Mexico.
I have decided, God willing, that I will spend my next birthday, the 65th, in Paris. Stay tuned.
Also a friend of about 35 years, Woody Schwartz, Doctor of Chinese Medicine. Has a beautiful Clinic in Aventura. Carlos Conrique Sandoval, ( my ex-boyfriend and his current boyfriend of 10 years) Kevin Seifried. Also, Calude Malo the decorator from Montreal and Paris. It was a lovely dinner. Shrimp scampi (more like a bisque) with Jasmine rice. The birthday cake was spectacular. A lady friend of Kevin's , from Haiti, made the birthday cake. She makes the best American style 3 layer cakes I have ever had. This one, for my birthday, was a red velvet with white cream cheese frosting and decorated with candied cherries. Delicious beyond words.
Received greetings from Joaquin Zagal Dominguez, Anthony Rabara (my first boyfriend from days in Sacramento, California in the 60's,) Carlos Tepox (from Veracruz who now lives in San Diego). All of the ex-boyfriends sent their wishes and I am grateful. Carlos and Kevin presented me with a beautiful, huge, bouquet of pink roses and pink tulips. Carlos cooked a delicious dinner of grilled chicken breast, grilled steak and grilled sweetbreads with delicious barbecue sauce made with Jack Daniels whiskey. Really wonderful.
I am enjoying being in Miami. I used to own an apartment here in South Beach; but got tired of the superficial life of Miami. Much better for me to live half of the year in Spain and half of the year in Mexico.
I have decided, God willing, that I will spend my next birthday, the 65th, in Paris. Stay tuned.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Dublin: The Shelbourne Hotel: Not great. Ordinary Marriott style rooms
Wednesday, April 22, 2009 Flew from Barcelona to Dublin. Flew Aer Lingus Barcelona, Dublin, to JFK.
Great experience on Aer Lingus. But you have to pack light. 20 kilos per bag, maximum 2 bags, from Barcelona to Dublin.
A quick 2 hour flight from Barcelona to Dublin. Jumped in a taxi at the Dublin airport and the taxi driver dropped the bag that held my beautiful porcelain tea tray and pot. Broke into a hundred bits. Oh well, it is only "stuff".
As I stated in my previous blog I usually stay at the Marion in Dublin but this time I decided to stay at the Shelbourne; just a couple of blocks from the Marion. The Shelbourne is on the beautiful St. Stephens Green.
Not a good experience for me at the Shelbourne. The welcome; there was none. I had to find my way to the reception area which was around to the right and in the back. They gave me an ugly room. I asked for a nicer room. They gave me an upgrade. But the problem with the Shelbourne is not the Shelbourne it is MARRIOTT. They bought the hotel and re-did it. They manage the hotel. The public rooms are nice but the guest rooms are terrible. Inside your room you could be in any Marriott in the world.
The service is touch and go. Food in the Bar. Okay. Breakfast was terrible. But I mean terrible. Scones so heavy and dry that it was like trying to eat a baseball.
The service at breakfast was really bad.
No, the Shelbourne is not worth it. I still love the Marion. But I want to keep looking for that great, lovely, smaller hotel or beautiful guesthouse in Dublin. This is an egocentric thing to say but at Casa de Billy Barcelona Gran Via we do a much better job than the Marriott in Dublin. A better job in the sense of welcome, beautiful rooms with high ceilings, beautiful bed linens and pillows, etc.
On Thursday the 23rd of March I checked out of the Shelbourne. The bellman got me a taxi. Well, kind of a taxi. It was a beat up, red, VW van. Where was the doorman during this procuedure. As with my arrival (at 3pm) and my departure (at 8am) the doorman was no where to be seen. It was the unexperienced bellman that found me the beat up VW van taxi. It was like a cargo van with one seat in the back.
So why did I get in damm jalopy? Because, I was late for the airport. During the trip to the airport the driver asked me how I liked the Shellbourne. I told him "not great". "Yeah", he said. " most people say the same. And on top of it they have queers (gay men) working at the hotel". I , of course, was furious. I told him that I was gay and I did not appreciate his homophobic comments. We were now just pulling into the airport; or else I would of demanded that he let me out. I asked him how come it cost me 26.50 euros from the Shellbourne to the airport and only 20 euros from the airport to the Shelbourne. Oh, he says, it costs more in the morning after 8am. Total rip off artist. His Taxi Tag number is: 11850. If you ever see his taxi; don't get in.
The flight from Dublin to JFK was great. Very comfortable. It was an Airbus 300 series (I think). Very comfortable seat. Economy: Row 17, seat G. No one sitting next to me. A quick 6 and a half hour flight from Dublin to JFK. By the way, the chicken stew they served in flight was delicious.
Arriving in New York (the West Village to be exact) I had a lovely late lunch with Dolores of delicious chili with red lentils. Went to bed early. I am exhausted. Worn out. A good long nights sleep will do me well.
Friday the 24th of April I will go to the Strand Bookstore and stock up on reading materials and then in the evening have dinner with my old friend David McCorkle and his boyfriend Ernest Hood. I think we are going to Chinatown Brasserie.
Always nice to visit New York.
Great experience on Aer Lingus. But you have to pack light. 20 kilos per bag, maximum 2 bags, from Barcelona to Dublin.
A quick 2 hour flight from Barcelona to Dublin. Jumped in a taxi at the Dublin airport and the taxi driver dropped the bag that held my beautiful porcelain tea tray and pot. Broke into a hundred bits. Oh well, it is only "stuff".
As I stated in my previous blog I usually stay at the Marion in Dublin but this time I decided to stay at the Shelbourne; just a couple of blocks from the Marion. The Shelbourne is on the beautiful St. Stephens Green.
Not a good experience for me at the Shelbourne. The welcome; there was none. I had to find my way to the reception area which was around to the right and in the back. They gave me an ugly room. I asked for a nicer room. They gave me an upgrade. But the problem with the Shelbourne is not the Shelbourne it is MARRIOTT. They bought the hotel and re-did it. They manage the hotel. The public rooms are nice but the guest rooms are terrible. Inside your room you could be in any Marriott in the world.
The service is touch and go. Food in the Bar. Okay. Breakfast was terrible. But I mean terrible. Scones so heavy and dry that it was like trying to eat a baseball.
The service at breakfast was really bad.
No, the Shelbourne is not worth it. I still love the Marion. But I want to keep looking for that great, lovely, smaller hotel or beautiful guesthouse in Dublin. This is an egocentric thing to say but at Casa de Billy Barcelona Gran Via we do a much better job than the Marriott in Dublin. A better job in the sense of welcome, beautiful rooms with high ceilings, beautiful bed linens and pillows, etc.
On Thursday the 23rd of March I checked out of the Shelbourne. The bellman got me a taxi. Well, kind of a taxi. It was a beat up, red, VW van. Where was the doorman during this procuedure. As with my arrival (at 3pm) and my departure (at 8am) the doorman was no where to be seen. It was the unexperienced bellman that found me the beat up VW van taxi. It was like a cargo van with one seat in the back.
So why did I get in damm jalopy? Because, I was late for the airport. During the trip to the airport the driver asked me how I liked the Shellbourne. I told him "not great". "Yeah", he said. " most people say the same. And on top of it they have queers (gay men) working at the hotel". I , of course, was furious. I told him that I was gay and I did not appreciate his homophobic comments. We were now just pulling into the airport; or else I would of demanded that he let me out. I asked him how come it cost me 26.50 euros from the Shellbourne to the airport and only 20 euros from the airport to the Shelbourne. Oh, he says, it costs more in the morning after 8am. Total rip off artist. His Taxi Tag number is: 11850. If you ever see his taxi; don't get in.
The flight from Dublin to JFK was great. Very comfortable. It was an Airbus 300 series (I think). Very comfortable seat. Economy: Row 17, seat G. No one sitting next to me. A quick 6 and a half hour flight from Dublin to JFK. By the way, the chicken stew they served in flight was delicious.
Arriving in New York (the West Village to be exact) I had a lovely late lunch with Dolores of delicious chili with red lentils. Went to bed early. I am exhausted. Worn out. A good long nights sleep will do me well.
Friday the 24th of April I will go to the Strand Bookstore and stock up on reading materials and then in the evening have dinner with my old friend David McCorkle and his boyfriend Ernest Hood. I think we are going to Chinatown Brasserie.
Always nice to visit New York.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
http://www.casabillybarcelona.com
I arrived here in Barcelona on February 4, 2009. Easy flight on American from Mexico City to Miami, then a change of planes and onto Madrid and then onto Barcelona. The new Barajas airport is a mess. Beautiful but extremely difficult to use.
It has been a great time here in Barcelona. Working hard to always improve my guesthouse, Casa de Billy Barcelona Gran Via. Lot's of guests. We are one of the highest rated guesthouses in Barcelona. Lovely guests. A great pleasure to serve them.
It finally is Spring in Barcelona. But only in the last few days.
I am leaving this next Wednesday and going to Dublin for a few days. Staying at the Shelbourne Hotel. My first time staying at the Shelbourne. I times past I have stayed at the Marion Hotel in Dublin. It is lovely but I wanted to try a place that would be new to me.
Then, I am off to New York. Staying with my friend Dolores Dubois (real name) in the West Village. The West Village always brings back lovely memories of the years I lived with Michael James on West 14th Street near 8th Avenue. The West village and the meat packing district was my beat. It has changed alot since I left in the late 80's; but it is still wonderful. I love Chelsey Market. Dolores lives just about 5 blocks away from the Chelsey Market. We go there alot.
Michael and I and then later, Dolores and I used to go brunch at Florent's. But it is gone too. I loved Florent. He was always very nice to me.
After a few days in New York I will hop on a plane in Newark and go to Ft. Lauderdale where I will stay with my friend (and ex-boyfriend) Carlos Conrique Sandoval and his current boyfriend of 10 years. They actually live in Miami but way north and so it is easier for him to pick me up in Ft. Lauderdale.
I will be spending lots of time with my dear friend Jeannette Costeiu. She has been in Miami (Bay Harbor), just behind the Bay Harbor Shops, for 32 years. She is a great friend. and a great person.
Then after a few days in Miami I will hope an Aeromexico flight for Mexico City. Lot's to do with my guesthouses in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico and the other one north of Acapulco.
I might open a new guesthouse in Mexico City. Called Casa de Angel Mexico City. I had a beautiful penthouse/ guesthouse near El Angel, just off of Reforma but I closed it down about 6 years ago. But I am thinking that it might be a good idea to re-open it; obviously in a new location. But in the same neighborhood. Cuahutemoc.
I will check back in later and let you know what goes on during my trip.
Take care and see you back here next time.
un abrazo,
Billy
It has been a great time here in Barcelona. Working hard to always improve my guesthouse, Casa de Billy Barcelona Gran Via. Lot's of guests. We are one of the highest rated guesthouses in Barcelona. Lovely guests. A great pleasure to serve them.
It finally is Spring in Barcelona. But only in the last few days.
I am leaving this next Wednesday and going to Dublin for a few days. Staying at the Shelbourne Hotel. My first time staying at the Shelbourne. I times past I have stayed at the Marion Hotel in Dublin. It is lovely but I wanted to try a place that would be new to me.
Then, I am off to New York. Staying with my friend Dolores Dubois (real name) in the West Village. The West Village always brings back lovely memories of the years I lived with Michael James on West 14th Street near 8th Avenue. The West village and the meat packing district was my beat. It has changed alot since I left in the late 80's; but it is still wonderful. I love Chelsey Market. Dolores lives just about 5 blocks away from the Chelsey Market. We go there alot.
Michael and I and then later, Dolores and I used to go brunch at Florent's. But it is gone too. I loved Florent. He was always very nice to me.
After a few days in New York I will hop on a plane in Newark and go to Ft. Lauderdale where I will stay with my friend (and ex-boyfriend) Carlos Conrique Sandoval and his current boyfriend of 10 years. They actually live in Miami but way north and so it is easier for him to pick me up in Ft. Lauderdale.
I will be spending lots of time with my dear friend Jeannette Costeiu. She has been in Miami (Bay Harbor), just behind the Bay Harbor Shops, for 32 years. She is a great friend. and a great person.
Then after a few days in Miami I will hope an Aeromexico flight for Mexico City. Lot's to do with my guesthouses in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico and the other one north of Acapulco.
I might open a new guesthouse in Mexico City. Called Casa de Angel Mexico City. I had a beautiful penthouse/ guesthouse near El Angel, just off of Reforma but I closed it down about 6 years ago. But I am thinking that it might be a good idea to re-open it; obviously in a new location. But in the same neighborhood. Cuahutemoc.
I will check back in later and let you know what goes on during my trip.
Take care and see you back here next time.
un abrazo,
Billy
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Alice Waters/Billy Cross /Chez Panisse/Simone Beck/Michael James 1972
I worked at Chez Panisse in 1972. In the bar, upstairs. My title was barman.
Bobby Weinstein worked as a barman at night. He said they needed someone for the day shift. and asked me if I would be interested. I went and interviewed with Gene Opton.She was the owner and Alices partner. Chez Panisse was failing and Gene and her husband put cash into the business for it to survive. Gene hired me.
It was before there was a cafe upstairs. It was a bar that served a little bit of fruit and cheese. But mainly for wine, coffee and the wonderful desserts of Lindsay Sherer. Really great desserts.
I worked there from mid August through the 15th of December of 1972. I also got a job for my old friend Sandra Brown from Sacramento. We shared an apartment in Berkeley. It was fun. Chez Panisse is where I met a woman that would be my friend for 37 year; Mukee Brossier, from the South of France.
On September 15, 1972 at Chez Panisse I met Michael James. It was love at first site. I knew nothing about him. But he sure was handsome. Long , dark, chestnut hair flowing down to his shoulders. He was tall; over 6 feet, wiry, with deep green eyes. He was a very accomplished chef, writer, played the piano and studed, very seriously, ballet. His father was Greek and his mother was French and English. (that is a whole other story)
When I arrived to work that day the kitchen staff and wait staff were all busy. Simone Beck and her assistant Michael James were comming to lunch. They were giving a big party the next night in San Francisco and Alice and Jerry Buttrick were sure they would be invited.
I don't think I had met Alice until that day; although I had been working there since around the 15th of August. I left work at about 5pm and she came to work in the evening. I was not on her radar. That was fine with me.
She was not cooking in the days I was at Chez Panisse. She was in the dining room.
Barbara was the chef in the day. I don't remember who cooked at night. I thought maybe it was Victoria. But someone told me she fell in love with a man in Canada and went off to Canada for a while. I was low man on the totem pole.
Jerry Buttrick was my supervisor. He loved to do cruel things to other staff people. Especially new people. Especially people he found to be unsophisticated like me.
Francis Ford Coppola came to lunch with Alice, Tom (her boyfriend) etc. They were in a little private dining room upstairs. Jerry asked me to make a Kir. I had no idea was a Kir was. He said , " get a wine glass, fill it with ice, then fill the glass with creme de casis and a splash of white wine." He served it to Coppola and I heard this yell "What the hell is this".
Jerry thought he was going to intimidate me. I didn't care. To me it was a job. Nothing more. I was interested in a career in food and wine. I had been working as a bilingual (Spanish/English) teacher in migrant labor camps in the San Joaquin Valley from Chico to Fresno. I had come out of the Peace Corps in Guatemala. I did not want to continue teaching or doing community development.
But I wanted to do something with food, wine, hospitality business, etc.
So I wrote to Baron Roy Andres de Groot who at that time was the Wine and Food Editor at Esquire Magazine. I asked him how to get started. He wrote me back the most beautiful, typed , letter. He told me to go out and find a job in the best restaurant I could. Preferably one that served French or Italian food. I followed his advice and that is how I ended up at Chez Panisse.
When my mother died, at the age of 90, I found in her files the letter that De Groot had written to me 29 years earlier. When I had recieved the letter from De Groot I knew nothing about him , except he worked for Esquire Magazine.
The reality was very different. He was blind and worked as a telephone operator at a hotel in New York. On the side he wrote articles on Food, Wine, Travel. He also wrote books. But he never recieved the recognition that he deserved.
Little did I know that the letter from De Groot would lead to a 4 month job at Chez Panisse that was going to change my life forever.
So when Simca and Michael arrived Jerry told me to stay out of the way that he was going to serve them and take care of them. "Just polish all of these wine glasses on the shelves". "Nothing else". Sure, I thought, why not.
Simca and Michael were introduced to all of the kitchen and downstairs staff. Except me. I did not care. I knew who Simone Beck was. My ex-boyfriend, Anthony Rabara had given me Mastering the Art of French Cooking Vol I and my mother had given me Vol II. I had spent the last few years cooking my way though those books, like alot of people. Remember Veal Prince Orloff? So, I was excited about seeing her.
But the person that I was taken by was her assistant Michael James.
They had lunch and said goodbye to Alice and Jerry and went downstairs where a car and driver were waiting. No one at Chez Panisse recieved an invitation to the party they were giving the next night in San Francisco.
About 5 minutes later I look up and Michael James is standing in front of me. He sticks out his large, beautiful hand and said" Hi, I'm Michael, we didn't meet you".
It was an instant physical and spiritual comming together.
He invited me to the party the next night. Said he would send someone to pick me up at Chez Panisse at 6pm. Great, I thought. Actually, what I really thought was fuck the party, I want you in my bed.
The next day I finished my shift around 6pm and Jerry Buttrick comes running up the stairs at Chez Panisse. "What the fuck is going on", he says to me. "There is a Rolls Royce and a driver downstairs asking for Billy Cross". " I told him you were changing your clothes. " "But I also asked him where you were going." " He told me that Michael James and Simone Beck had sent him to pick up Billy Cross to go to San Francisco. "
Michael had an apartment on Telegraph Hill in San Francisco. He kept it year 'round, even though he actually lived in Paris and in the South of France. Simca was going back to Bramafam, her estate in the south near Mougins and Cannes.
So, from the first night I basically lived with Michael on Telegraph Hill and commuted to work at Chez Panisse in Berkeley. After about a month he asked me if I wanted to live with him in France. He was going back in December (1972).
So, I gave my 2 weeks notice to Chez Panisse on December 1, 2001.
Michael came to pick me up on my last day of work. As I walked down the stairs from the Cafe, Michael was walking up the front steps of Chez Panisse from the street. At the entry was Jerry Buttrick, Gene Opton and Tom Gurnsey (who had recently been hired, and was the gay husband of Nancy Donnell, of a prominent San Francisco family).
As Michael took my hand and we walked down the steps to the street Gene Opton walked over to us, with her hands crossed under her bosom "Well", she said. "This will be very interesting". But said in a way that was not loving or kind. It was said in such a way; as it is often to gay couples starting out. "Well, this is going to be an obvious failure"
off we went to a waiting car that took us off to France and a new life together.
Michael and I were together as lovers and business partners for 21 years until his death on the 25th of July, 1993. He died from AIDS.
He died at our house in Kensington, just north of Berkeley. He died at 12:30am and the house was full of people. I called the mortuary and they were so busy that they could not come to pick up his body until the next afternoon.
We washed his body and anointed it with rose oil that Hallie Harron had brought. Catherine Brandel had ordered fresh tea leaf leighs flown in FED-EX from Hawaii. They arrived just before he died. We put them around his neck, lit candles, and sat with his body for a couple of hours.
I needed to be alone for a while. But there was no where for me to be. The bedrooms were full, the living room was full. So about 3am I called Catherine Brandel asking if she had a place for me to sleep. No, she was full to but she told me that an upstairs neighbor of hers had an empty guest room. And she had a key. So, off I went in my bathrobe. Catherine took me into her friends flat and put me to bed.
In the morning I woke up, put my bathrobe back on and let myself out. As I got to the bottom of the steps of Catherine's friends house, Gene Opton, my old boss from Chez Panisse, stepped out onto her porch and told me she was so sad to hear about Michael's death. As I got to the last step I turned to her and said "you know Gene, 21 years ago I left Chez Panisse to move to France to live with Michael." " As we left you said to us, in a very judgemental way "Well, this will be interesting". and I said to Gene "yes, and you know Gene, it was VERY INTERESTING". I turned away and walked off to my car to go to my house.
When I got home the mortuary had just arrived. I saw the body bag. This one was burgandy velvet. I had told them not to put his body in a plastic bag. They told me it was the law. Everyone who died of AIDS in the State of California had to be put in a plastic bag.
I had seen many friends, who had died of AIDS, have their body put in a plastic bag. It was the one thing that I thought would kill me on the spot. I knew then that when Michael died I would not allow them to put him into a plastic bag.
They went into the bedroom and put his body in a plastic bag , without me knowing, and then put the plastic bag and his body in a beautiful burgandy velvet body bag.
I stood, still in my bathrobe, on the front lawn of our house, and watched them take his body out of the house and into the waiting hearse. They closed the door of the coach and off they went down the street with the view of the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge . The fog horns groaned and the sun tried to burn off the fog that shouded the bridge.
Bobby Weinstein worked as a barman at night. He said they needed someone for the day shift. and asked me if I would be interested. I went and interviewed with Gene Opton.She was the owner and Alices partner. Chez Panisse was failing and Gene and her husband put cash into the business for it to survive. Gene hired me.
It was before there was a cafe upstairs. It was a bar that served a little bit of fruit and cheese. But mainly for wine, coffee and the wonderful desserts of Lindsay Sherer. Really great desserts.
I worked there from mid August through the 15th of December of 1972. I also got a job for my old friend Sandra Brown from Sacramento. We shared an apartment in Berkeley. It was fun. Chez Panisse is where I met a woman that would be my friend for 37 year; Mukee Brossier, from the South of France.
On September 15, 1972 at Chez Panisse I met Michael James. It was love at first site. I knew nothing about him. But he sure was handsome. Long , dark, chestnut hair flowing down to his shoulders. He was tall; over 6 feet, wiry, with deep green eyes. He was a very accomplished chef, writer, played the piano and studed, very seriously, ballet. His father was Greek and his mother was French and English. (that is a whole other story)
When I arrived to work that day the kitchen staff and wait staff were all busy. Simone Beck and her assistant Michael James were comming to lunch. They were giving a big party the next night in San Francisco and Alice and Jerry Buttrick were sure they would be invited.
I don't think I had met Alice until that day; although I had been working there since around the 15th of August. I left work at about 5pm and she came to work in the evening. I was not on her radar. That was fine with me.
She was not cooking in the days I was at Chez Panisse. She was in the dining room.
Barbara was the chef in the day. I don't remember who cooked at night. I thought maybe it was Victoria. But someone told me she fell in love with a man in Canada and went off to Canada for a while. I was low man on the totem pole.
Jerry Buttrick was my supervisor. He loved to do cruel things to other staff people. Especially new people. Especially people he found to be unsophisticated like me.
Francis Ford Coppola came to lunch with Alice, Tom (her boyfriend) etc. They were in a little private dining room upstairs. Jerry asked me to make a Kir. I had no idea was a Kir was. He said , " get a wine glass, fill it with ice, then fill the glass with creme de casis and a splash of white wine." He served it to Coppola and I heard this yell "What the hell is this".
Jerry thought he was going to intimidate me. I didn't care. To me it was a job. Nothing more. I was interested in a career in food and wine. I had been working as a bilingual (Spanish/English) teacher in migrant labor camps in the San Joaquin Valley from Chico to Fresno. I had come out of the Peace Corps in Guatemala. I did not want to continue teaching or doing community development.
But I wanted to do something with food, wine, hospitality business, etc.
So I wrote to Baron Roy Andres de Groot who at that time was the Wine and Food Editor at Esquire Magazine. I asked him how to get started. He wrote me back the most beautiful, typed , letter. He told me to go out and find a job in the best restaurant I could. Preferably one that served French or Italian food. I followed his advice and that is how I ended up at Chez Panisse.
When my mother died, at the age of 90, I found in her files the letter that De Groot had written to me 29 years earlier. When I had recieved the letter from De Groot I knew nothing about him , except he worked for Esquire Magazine.
The reality was very different. He was blind and worked as a telephone operator at a hotel in New York. On the side he wrote articles on Food, Wine, Travel. He also wrote books. But he never recieved the recognition that he deserved.
Little did I know that the letter from De Groot would lead to a 4 month job at Chez Panisse that was going to change my life forever.
So when Simca and Michael arrived Jerry told me to stay out of the way that he was going to serve them and take care of them. "Just polish all of these wine glasses on the shelves". "Nothing else". Sure, I thought, why not.
Simca and Michael were introduced to all of the kitchen and downstairs staff. Except me. I did not care. I knew who Simone Beck was. My ex-boyfriend, Anthony Rabara had given me Mastering the Art of French Cooking Vol I and my mother had given me Vol II. I had spent the last few years cooking my way though those books, like alot of people. Remember Veal Prince Orloff? So, I was excited about seeing her.
But the person that I was taken by was her assistant Michael James.
They had lunch and said goodbye to Alice and Jerry and went downstairs where a car and driver were waiting. No one at Chez Panisse recieved an invitation to the party they were giving the next night in San Francisco.
About 5 minutes later I look up and Michael James is standing in front of me. He sticks out his large, beautiful hand and said" Hi, I'm Michael, we didn't meet you".
It was an instant physical and spiritual comming together.
He invited me to the party the next night. Said he would send someone to pick me up at Chez Panisse at 6pm. Great, I thought. Actually, what I really thought was fuck the party, I want you in my bed.
The next day I finished my shift around 6pm and Jerry Buttrick comes running up the stairs at Chez Panisse. "What the fuck is going on", he says to me. "There is a Rolls Royce and a driver downstairs asking for Billy Cross". " I told him you were changing your clothes. " "But I also asked him where you were going." " He told me that Michael James and Simone Beck had sent him to pick up Billy Cross to go to San Francisco. "
Michael had an apartment on Telegraph Hill in San Francisco. He kept it year 'round, even though he actually lived in Paris and in the South of France. Simca was going back to Bramafam, her estate in the south near Mougins and Cannes.
So, from the first night I basically lived with Michael on Telegraph Hill and commuted to work at Chez Panisse in Berkeley. After about a month he asked me if I wanted to live with him in France. He was going back in December (1972).
So, I gave my 2 weeks notice to Chez Panisse on December 1, 2001.
Michael came to pick me up on my last day of work. As I walked down the stairs from the Cafe, Michael was walking up the front steps of Chez Panisse from the street. At the entry was Jerry Buttrick, Gene Opton and Tom Gurnsey (who had recently been hired, and was the gay husband of Nancy Donnell, of a prominent San Francisco family).
As Michael took my hand and we walked down the steps to the street Gene Opton walked over to us, with her hands crossed under her bosom "Well", she said. "This will be very interesting". But said in a way that was not loving or kind. It was said in such a way; as it is often to gay couples starting out. "Well, this is going to be an obvious failure"
off we went to a waiting car that took us off to France and a new life together.
Michael and I were together as lovers and business partners for 21 years until his death on the 25th of July, 1993. He died from AIDS.
He died at our house in Kensington, just north of Berkeley. He died at 12:30am and the house was full of people. I called the mortuary and they were so busy that they could not come to pick up his body until the next afternoon.
We washed his body and anointed it with rose oil that Hallie Harron had brought. Catherine Brandel had ordered fresh tea leaf leighs flown in FED-EX from Hawaii. They arrived just before he died. We put them around his neck, lit candles, and sat with his body for a couple of hours.
I needed to be alone for a while. But there was no where for me to be. The bedrooms were full, the living room was full. So about 3am I called Catherine Brandel asking if she had a place for me to sleep. No, she was full to but she told me that an upstairs neighbor of hers had an empty guest room. And she had a key. So, off I went in my bathrobe. Catherine took me into her friends flat and put me to bed.
In the morning I woke up, put my bathrobe back on and let myself out. As I got to the bottom of the steps of Catherine's friends house, Gene Opton, my old boss from Chez Panisse, stepped out onto her porch and told me she was so sad to hear about Michael's death. As I got to the last step I turned to her and said "you know Gene, 21 years ago I left Chez Panisse to move to France to live with Michael." " As we left you said to us, in a very judgemental way "Well, this will be interesting". and I said to Gene "yes, and you know Gene, it was VERY INTERESTING". I turned away and walked off to my car to go to my house.
When I got home the mortuary had just arrived. I saw the body bag. This one was burgandy velvet. I had told them not to put his body in a plastic bag. They told me it was the law. Everyone who died of AIDS in the State of California had to be put in a plastic bag.
I had seen many friends, who had died of AIDS, have their body put in a plastic bag. It was the one thing that I thought would kill me on the spot. I knew then that when Michael died I would not allow them to put him into a plastic bag.
They went into the bedroom and put his body in a plastic bag , without me knowing, and then put the plastic bag and his body in a beautiful burgandy velvet body bag.
I stood, still in my bathrobe, on the front lawn of our house, and watched them take his body out of the house and into the waiting hearse. They closed the door of the coach and off they went down the street with the view of the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge . The fog horns groaned and the sun tried to burn off the fog that shouded the bridge.
Street Food in Cuernavaca and a Friend Dies in Barcelona
I am off to Barcelona on Monday , February 2. I don't know exactly how long I will stay but probably a couple of months. Then back here to Mexico.
I had a nice night last night. I walked around my neighborhood here in Cuernavaca. Actually, I walked about 5 blocks to the closest pharmacy.
It was a lovely evening; abouty 5-6 pm. A Friday night in "el barrio". I did not realize how much street food is sold in my neighborhood. The smells were wonderful. Lot's of fried quesadillas filled with cheese and flor de calabaza. Also great enchilidas. Enchilidas callejeras. Before they roll and fill the enchilidas they quickly fry the corn torillas in a mixture of oil and a puree of re-constituted dried chilies. They remove from the heat and then fill with chicken or nopales, etc. Then roll them up or fold them over into lovely little hot chile bundles or triangles. Top them with shredded lettuce, thick Mexican cream and aged grated cheese. Wow, delicious.
I ran into one of Joaquin's nieces. I don't know how many he has but with 7 brothers and 1 sister; there are alot of them. Maybe he has about 60 nieces and nephews. Her name is Cecelia. She is beautiful. Looks like a model you might find on a runway in Paris or Milan. She is tall, thin with dark skin and big eyes. Very beautiful. She is always very sweet to me.
While I was enjoying my neighborhood in Cuernavaca, Daniel died in Barcelona.
Daniel was a very good friend of Marcello and Olivier's. I met him on a few ocassions when they gave parties at their house in El Raval section of Barcelona.
He was at our house in Barcelona for Christmas. Joaquin sent me pictures of the party he gave on the 24th. I , of course, was here in Mexico. Daniel looked great. Maybe thin; but looked great.
Yesterday afternoon around 5pm on the 30th of January, 2009, Daniel died at a hospital in Barcelona. He was 40 years old.
No one knew that he had Hepatitis. I don't know the details about which kind of hepatitis he had. Daniel was from Mexico City. His mother was with him when he died. His sister arrives today from Mexico City.
Joaquin and I decided to invite them to stay at our apartment in Barcelona. The funeral is on Sunday. After the funeral Joaquin will invite all of the guests back to our apartment and he will have a nice dinner ready. With, I hope, several bottles of good Spanish Rijoa wine and of course, Tequila. The ultimate drink, in Mexico, for the last final toast and goodbye.
God speed Daniel.
I had a nice night last night. I walked around my neighborhood here in Cuernavaca. Actually, I walked about 5 blocks to the closest pharmacy.
It was a lovely evening; abouty 5-6 pm. A Friday night in "el barrio". I did not realize how much street food is sold in my neighborhood. The smells were wonderful. Lot's of fried quesadillas filled with cheese and flor de calabaza. Also great enchilidas. Enchilidas callejeras. Before they roll and fill the enchilidas they quickly fry the corn torillas in a mixture of oil and a puree of re-constituted dried chilies. They remove from the heat and then fill with chicken or nopales, etc. Then roll them up or fold them over into lovely little hot chile bundles or triangles. Top them with shredded lettuce, thick Mexican cream and aged grated cheese. Wow, delicious.
I ran into one of Joaquin's nieces. I don't know how many he has but with 7 brothers and 1 sister; there are alot of them. Maybe he has about 60 nieces and nephews. Her name is Cecelia. She is beautiful. Looks like a model you might find on a runway in Paris or Milan. She is tall, thin with dark skin and big eyes. Very beautiful. She is always very sweet to me.
While I was enjoying my neighborhood in Cuernavaca, Daniel died in Barcelona.
Daniel was a very good friend of Marcello and Olivier's. I met him on a few ocassions when they gave parties at their house in El Raval section of Barcelona.
He was at our house in Barcelona for Christmas. Joaquin sent me pictures of the party he gave on the 24th. I , of course, was here in Mexico. Daniel looked great. Maybe thin; but looked great.
Yesterday afternoon around 5pm on the 30th of January, 2009, Daniel died at a hospital in Barcelona. He was 40 years old.
No one knew that he had Hepatitis. I don't know the details about which kind of hepatitis he had. Daniel was from Mexico City. His mother was with him when he died. His sister arrives today from Mexico City.
Joaquin and I decided to invite them to stay at our apartment in Barcelona. The funeral is on Sunday. After the funeral Joaquin will invite all of the guests back to our apartment and he will have a nice dinner ready. With, I hope, several bottles of good Spanish Rijoa wine and of course, Tequila. The ultimate drink, in Mexico, for the last final toast and goodbye.
God speed Daniel.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Getting ready to retun to Barcelona/and Inguration of Barack Obama
I have been in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico since late fall. Getting ready to go back to Barcelona. Looking forward to returning to Europe. I love Mexico. The warmth, the sun, the people, the food. But I also love Barcelona.
I will probably wait until after the Inaguration of Barack Obama. Very excited about having Bush and his cronies out and Barack and Michele Obama in the Whitehouse. A great moment for America. I was very happy that I had the opportunity to vote for him.
America is way to ploarized. I love America. I am an American by birth. But the US has gone through some terrible times with Bush. Look at the terrible financial , global financial, problems that we have. Over 10 million people out of work in the States. They say it will get worse, very quickly.
An example of how polarized the US has become: Last night I was watching Fox News (mistake) and Huckabee was interviewing Ann Coulter. She said something that I could not believe I heard. She said something like "do you (Huckabee) support gays, faggots, those sodomists?"
She is nuts. I cannot believe how ignorant Ann Coulter is.
Later on I saw an interview that Bush gave to Fox News. It was in the Whitehouse with his father, ex President Bush. He said that the Republican party and the conservatives in the United States need to become kinder and more tolerant. Especially about such issues such as immigration. He said that if this does not happen we will continue to become a country more and more polarized. I was glad to hear him say it. But I also think that he has a certain responsibility for helping to polarize the country.
Enough of all of that. It is a beautiful day here in Cuernavaca. About 75 degrees F, (25C ??). Sunny , with blue skies. Cuernavaca is known as the land of eternal Spring. 5,200 ft ( approx 1,800 meters ??) in elevation. Just beautiful. Dry mountain. Very little humidity.
The pot garden on the lower terrace of the house is full of bouganvilla , lantana and a few roses. Here in Cuernvaca you stick it in the ground or in a pot and it grows and grows. On the top of the house; 4 stories up, is a roof terrace with beautiful views of Cuernavaca and the mountains that separate us from Mexico City. I have several huge pots of bouganvilla up there. They are vibrant fuschia in color and blooming like crazy.
I will probably wait until after the Inaguration of Barack Obama. Very excited about having Bush and his cronies out and Barack and Michele Obama in the Whitehouse. A great moment for America. I was very happy that I had the opportunity to vote for him.
America is way to ploarized. I love America. I am an American by birth. But the US has gone through some terrible times with Bush. Look at the terrible financial , global financial, problems that we have. Over 10 million people out of work in the States. They say it will get worse, very quickly.
An example of how polarized the US has become: Last night I was watching Fox News (mistake) and Huckabee was interviewing Ann Coulter. She said something that I could not believe I heard. She said something like "do you (Huckabee) support gays, faggots, those sodomists?"
She is nuts. I cannot believe how ignorant Ann Coulter is.
Later on I saw an interview that Bush gave to Fox News. It was in the Whitehouse with his father, ex President Bush. He said that the Republican party and the conservatives in the United States need to become kinder and more tolerant. Especially about such issues such as immigration. He said that if this does not happen we will continue to become a country more and more polarized. I was glad to hear him say it. But I also think that he has a certain responsibility for helping to polarize the country.
Enough of all of that. It is a beautiful day here in Cuernavaca. About 75 degrees F, (25C ??). Sunny , with blue skies. Cuernavaca is known as the land of eternal Spring. 5,200 ft ( approx 1,800 meters ??) in elevation. Just beautiful. Dry mountain. Very little humidity.
The pot garden on the lower terrace of the house is full of bouganvilla , lantana and a few roses. Here in Cuernvaca you stick it in the ground or in a pot and it grows and grows. On the top of the house; 4 stories up, is a roof terrace with beautiful views of Cuernavaca and the mountains that separate us from Mexico City. I have several huge pots of bouganvilla up there. They are vibrant fuschia in color and blooming like crazy.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
New Years on the Beach at Villa del Angel north of Acapulco
Just arrived back in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico after 7 glorious days at our house on the beach north of Acapulco, Villa del Angel. Beautiful sunny days about 90 farenheit (33?centigrade). Going all day between the pool, the palapa and the beach. Just divine. Back in Cuernavaca and getting ready to return back to Barcelona in a few weeks.
Hope you all have a great 2009. We need lot's of hope to deal with what is going on in the world.
lots of hugs and love from Billy
Hope you all have a great 2009. We need lot's of hope to deal with what is going on in the world.
lots of hugs and love from Billy
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