20 PUNCHMAGAZINE.COM flavors of his childhood animates Arturo’s mission to make foundational Peruvian dishes like tangy ceviche and beefy lomo saltado almost as well-known in California as tacos and tamales. (Page 65) It won’t be the first time a dish has gone from exotic to ubiquitous. There once was a time when spaghetti was considered an outlandishly foreign meal in America. Now, the small crew at family-owned Saporito in Redwood City makes hundreds and hundreds of pounds of fresh pasta daily to keep up with the insatiable appetite for noodles, gnocchi and ravioli from local restaurants and home cooks. (Page 74) Orchestrating a big holiday meal is tough, but not nearly as tricky as conducting a symphony. This year, Maestro Mitchell Klein celebrates 40 years wielding the baton for Peninsula Symphony Orchestra, and reveals how he shapes a roomful of individual musicians into a melodious ensemble. (Page 100) If the stress of the holidays makes you want to get away from it all, Sheri Baer’s story offers an escape to El Encanto, the enchantingly secluded Santa Barbara getaway adored by the stars of Hollywood’s golden age. (Page 45) Closer to home, Johanna Harlow offers insights for a fun day in San Carlos. The “City of Good Living” is a great place for a stress-free day trip with out-of-town holiday houseguests. (Page 54) In this month’s pages, you’ll also meet a bronc-riding real estate agent (Page 31), get tips from the lively owner of a housestaging company (Page 90) and peek inside the San Carlos home of influencer Emily Scott. (Page 83) Find all this and more as you cozy up with our November issue! Andrea Gemmet andrea@punchmonthly.com {editor’s note} like pumpkin) and cornbread, but I only fully appreciated how much effort went into those flawlessly executed feasts after I started hosting Thanksgiving in recent years. It’s like a rite of passage that my husband and I should have gone through 20 years ago and our missteps feel all the more embarrassing since we are old enough to know better. Twice we’ve carved into a dangerously undercooked turkey (microwaving does not improve its texture but it does keep the food poisoning at bay). Then there’s the attempt to make mashed potatoes several hours ahead (the formerly delicious spuds turned dry and disappointing after the crockpot leached out all the moisture). And those wretched pie crusts! All I can say is that I refuse to buy ready-made crusts, I try valiantly to make them every year and the results are extremely hit-or-miss. Nothing humbles an otherwise competent home cook like an uncooperative pie crust or a pinkat-the-bone turkey thigh. The real beauty of any Thanksgiving spread is that it’s endlessly customizable to everyone’s tastes and traditions. My family’s appetizer array always included savory squares of focaccia from Liguria Bakery and homemade torta di riso, a nod to our Italian heritage. Chestnut-laced dressing and a retro red Jello salad were nostalgic carryovers from my uncle’s childhood. My sister would bring a can of wobbly cranberry sauce to enjoy while everyone else ate chunky homemade cranberry relish. My husband’s family introduced me to my favorite stuffing, made of sticky rice and Chinese sausage, and a tradition of post-Thanksgiving gatherings anchored by a big pot of jook, the slow-cooked rice porridge enriched by leftover turkey. Reading this month’s story about chef Arturo Bazan of Callao restaurant in Los Altos, I wonder what Thanksgiving dinner looks like at his house. Sharing the Welcome to the pinnacle of pumpkin spice season, punctuated by November’s capstone day of gluttony and gratitude. That hint of smoke in the brisk air, the rapidly falling leaves and the lengthening darkness make me daydream of evenings cuddled up with a cup of tea and a good book as the hectic holiday season picks up speed. My formative Thanksgiving memories are of picture-perfect gatherings at my aunt and uncle’s hillside home in San Francisco, featuring a beautifully bronzed turkey and more side dishes than I can count. By the time I was a teen, I was contributing a dish or two, chocolate silk pies (for selfish reasons—I don’t
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