It’s a chilly, damp morning at 7.10am although you know it’s going to be a nice day. You’re in Sea Ranch for a couple of days, thrilled to be disconnected from the breakneck speed of daily life and back in this magical nature land. You slip your feet into your flip flops. Hair unbrushed, eyes still a bit gummed up from sleep, pjs loosely disguised with a down vest, you get behind the steering wheel of your car. You need to beat the line at Twofish Baking Co. and doors open at 7am.
The windows are covered in condensation so you have to roll them down to get a clear view of the landscape which is just starting to wake up. Turkey vultures soar overhead, birds are singing at the start of a fresh new day. In the distance the ocean looks pretty glassy but is starting to sparkle as the sun starts to rise. The grasses are dry and golden as it’s the end of the summer, hiding the grazing deer. It seems you’re the only one awake and it feels like you’re being let in on a secret by witnessing all this on your own.
You wonder how you let almost three years slide by without visiting this part of the world, a place you’ve been coming to regularly for over a decade. In a bit of a trance, you realize that you’ve taken a wrong turn, but the gift is seeing a flock of wild turkeys on their early morning ramble. Finally you roll into the parking lot, relieved to see there’s no line, but wait, the sign says “closed”. “How can that be?” you wonder. “It’s Labor Day weekend, it must be one of their busiest weekends of the year.”
You peer at the sign and realize that since the last time you were here, Twofish Baking Co. has changed its hours to open at 8am, and the good news is that they now serve a pizza dinner on Fridays and Saturdays. Disappointed that you won’t be bringing baked loot back to the two hungry boys back at the house, you slowly get back into your car knowing you’ll be back within the hour.
At two minutes to 8am, with a strong sense of deja vu, you drive back into the parking lot and immediately it’s clear that Twofish has only gotten more popular in recent years. There’s a long line out the door on the deck and nowhere to park. This is three hours from San Francisco and the foodies still can’t be beat! You send your young companions to stand in line and as soon as you’ve illegally parked your car on the grassy verge, you take your camera and squeeze past the line of waiting folks to capture the sights inside.
Too bad your camera can’t capture smell. Twofish exudes the very goodness of baking through its aromas: yeast, baking, warmth, butter, roasted coffee. It’s all there assaulting the senses as your eyes feast hungrily on the wonders in front of you. Even though you don’t eat gluten, you can lust.
There are almond croissants, jam pastries, bread, cinnamon rolls, morning rolls, sticky buns, the list goes on. Plus a great array of coffees, teas and hot chocolate. Even dog biscuits, gluten-free treats and boxed granola to take home. You learn that Twofish’s founders, Margaret and Hillah, just celebrated a decade of being in business. Quite a triumph given its remote location and the crazy high standards of locals and visitors alike.
You return to your home for the weekend, and can’t resist tearing off a piece of buttery, sugary, caramely pastry, coated with pecans, and cramming it in your mouth when no-one is looking. It’s worth every sinful chew.
Twofish is open from Thursday-Sunday, at 8am (not 7am!) and serves pizza on Friday and Saturday nights, which we also tried. It was delicious. Head there early before they sell out.
John Onoda says
Interesting that you did this (very nicely) in the second person. Sounds like a yummy place!
Thank you! I like writing in the second person, it’s a fun brain exercise 😉