It was summer in wine country, and the air was clear and mild with just a touch of a breeze, so Mom, Elaine, and I decided to sit outside for lunch. The back terrace of Ristorante Umbria offered a lovely view of the grapevine-dotted hills that rose up from the gully nearby. At the bottom of the gully flowed a bubbly, fast-moving stream that coursed down from nearby Red Mountain and meandered through Dharma. I wasn’t sure of its real name, but we locals liked to call it Moon River because our rugged, hilly region of Sonoma County was known as the Valley of the Moon. Olive trees in large wooden crates were strategically arranged on the terrace to give the illusion of intimate dining spaces. We relaxed under a colorful umbrella and gave the waiter our orders: Hanger steak and frites for Mom, seared scallops in butter and garlic with a side of bowtie pasta for me, and a Margherita pizza for Elaine. Evidently, we were all hungry. A server placed chunky slices of sour dough bread and whipped butter on the table, then walked away.
