Weather, sightseeing and food conspire for some fine "California Dreaming"

Most mornings of my recent holiday in Southern California saw me sitting like a cat in the sun in front of the Riviera Village (Redondo Beach) Starbucks, unwinding after my morning beach walk. The natives were all huddled inside, convinced it was far too cold to be out of doors.

This little picture says is evocative of the whole week. Relaxed, gently paced and all about the little pleasures the natives might not notice. The primary objective was to bring the family together for my Mom's 69th birthday and my cousin's 50th. MY main goal was to grab some R&R amidst what could have turned into a stressful, massive production. Fortunately, the two objectives sat comfortably side by side.

We did just enough sightseeing to tick that box. In addition to our day at the Getty Villa, we spent a fine afternoon wandering around the West Hollywood Farmers' Market and the adjoining retail complex called "The Grove". I hadn't been here since I was a kid, and it has gone through a serious transformation. You used to feel quite the urban adventurer, cutting through some edgy neighbourhoods to get there. Once you arrived, it was fun ... but also tumultuous, chaotic and a bit grimy. I remember a working market. Yes, it was a tourist attraction, but it also seemed to be a proper supplier of the everyday to the locals and a wholesale venue for restaurants. Today it's upscale, tidy and fashionable. There's one of everything: a vegetable stand, a butcher, a baker. It seems to exist primarily for tourists, and is priced accordingly. The real point, however, is the eating around the world you can do at all the little stands. There's a New York Deli, a sushi spot, a cajun kitchen, a noodle place, etc. We opted for an odd but satisfying combo of sushi followed by coconut macaroons.

Beyond the Farmers' Market, the Grove is one of those highly designed places that gives you the feeling you're in a stage set. The architecture is 1930s/40s, and I honestly couldn't tell whether I was seeing the bones of original buildings that had been refreshed, or a completely new street built to evoke the glamour of early LA. Whatever the case, it's beautiful, sophisticated and extraordinarily tidy, with all of the usual upscale mall shops fronting a winding pedestrianised street that leads into a square with a garden, fountains and shopping kiosks in the middle. My highlights were the biggest Barnes and Noble I think I've ever been in, Nordstrom's shoe department and a hat kiosk on the square where Mom got a jaunty variety to cover the chemotherapy damage.

After that indulgent afternoon we had an equally indulgent evening, driving out to my friend Craig Jackson's house for dinner. Craig and I met on our first day at Northwestern, shared countless adventures in school and have stayed in touch through the years. Spending time with him always brings up reassuring memories and makes me feel that all's right with the world as long as your friends are in it. We also shared, and still share, a passionate love of food and wine. Accordingly, Craig and his partner cooked the finest meal we had on our whole trip (especially the beetroot and goat's cheese salad), matched with a velvety Rioja, mellow candlelight, sparkling conversation and a setting so exquisitely decorated it really does deserve a stint in architectural digest. I fear I will never live up to their example when they come to visit me.

Another highlight, on Mom's birthday, was a concert at the Orange County Music Center. The place reminded me a great deal of Dallas: People with an enormous amount of money, living someplace completely new, investing massively in culture to overcome their lack of heritage. The music center sits at the heart of a complex awash with impressive modern architecture, bold public sculpture, wide roads and gracious plazas. The concert hall is built to a traditional shape, but with clean, modern lines, pale colours and modern materials. I don't know about such things but I'd bet, as with Dallas, the modern technology makes the acoustics here particularly good. The whole place is a testament to the fact that "new money" isn't always synonymous with cheap and tacky.

Musical director Carl St. Clair has developed an orchestra and style as vivid and innovative as his hall. The theme of our evening was "Arabian Nights", anchored by Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade. That's a piece hard to beat, its lush orchestrations ripping your imagination out of the chair and sending you off on flying carpets towards a magical Arabia of Sinbad, Ali Baba and the like. Unusually, the rest of the concert was just as memorable, as St. Clair teamed up with the Syrian National Symphony Orchestra to do a musical cultural exchange. The four pieces in the first half ranged from traditional Western music (Vivaldi's "Winter") with solo parts played on Arabic instruments to completely unknown but lovely pieces of modern Syrian orchestral music. What a shame this is such a dangerous part of the world these days. If Damascus is half as beautiful as this music, it really is a place I must see before I die.

Dining throughout the trip was pleasurable but not extraordinary. The humble El Burrito Junior taco stand yielded one of my best meals of the trip, whether because they really do produce some of the best Mexican food I've had, or because I was revelling in the high fat indulgence of food that breaks through every Weight Watcher limit, I wouldn't want to say. Without further experimentation, that is. We also returned multiple times to Captain Kidd's seafood market and restaurant near the Redondo Beach pier, where you can pick out your fish and have them cook it for you. (Several meals of grilled scallops and steamed vegetables were an attempt to counter the burrito-enchilada-margarita fest.) The sushi place in Farmers' Market was good value for money with both basic and exotic options.

For our best restaurant meal, however, we'd have to drive 90 minutes, pay admission and trek halfway across main street, the wild West and New Orleans Square. Details to come...