Brunch in Idyllwild

Up the hill to nosh

23-Jun-2008. A week ago, when the now inevitable question arose, "Where shall we have brunch next Sunday?" Phil suggested Idyllwild. As it turned out, the timing was perfect, because the valley floor was abroil in pre-mature August.

At Ken's suggestion, we went to the Bread Basket, another perfect choice. We were seated on the deck in dappled sunshine where the temperature was a balmy 88°F, and just about the time our food arrived, so did a harpist to provide soothing music. The food was delicious, the wait-staff friendly, and the setting rustic yet sophisticated — what more could you ask?

After brunch, we set off for the Pony Express so Ken could pick up the boot socks he had special ordered. To the untutored eye they seemed like quite ordinary socks, but Ken swears by them, and Pony Express is the only store that carries them.

After strolling around the village for a bit, we stopped for ice cream and a final photo-op.

There was the usual tomfoolery, of course. Réal played coy and Ken inhaled abnormally, hoping to compensate for an earlier snap with distended stomach.