Tomales is about six miles north of the edge of Tomales Bay. It’s another small town; smaller than Point Reyes Station; a village, but getting closer to “hamlet” designation. There are about 200 people there according to the 2010 census and the biggest employer is Tomales High School. The town has broad pastureland broken up with stands of cypress, Diekmann’s General Store, an antiques shop, a bakery that is open Thursday through Sunday, two restaurants only open on weekends and a deli. The Church of the Annunciation is on the west side of Highway One.
If you stop when the church is open, go inside and check out its lovely stained glass windows. Maybe it’s just me, but I find “Church of the Annunciation” and a sign saying “Deliveries” in close proximity to be funny. I don’t know what happened to Baby Jesus’s arms, but the statue is still pretty nice.
I hadn’t eaten in Point Reyes Station, and I missed the opportunity to eat at Nick’s Cove, a few miles south, which is, or used to be, famous for oyster-themed meals. I was sure there would be a place to eat in Tomales. This was a very bad decision. Next time I will either stop sooner, or push on to the town of Valley Ford.
What a cheerful, welcoming exterior! Don’t be deceived.
The Tomales Deli was open and serving. They have two of the storefronts on the east side of the street; the second room has a couple of tables but seems like more on a community room than a diner. A clever hand-painted sign reads “Dilly-dally at the deli,” but I would not take them at their word. It was about one-fifteen and they were pretty busy, since they were the only place open. There were three people behind the counter assembling food at top speed. I had the misfortune to get one of the worst countermen I’ve encountered in my life.
There were two people ahead of me in line, I thought, but after a minute one of them looked at me and said, “We’re waiting for our food.” They stepped to one side and I moved up to the counter. On a niche by the door into the pantry, a small TV was showing Germany trouncing Brazil in the World Cup. I didn’t pay attention to the score at the time, but maybe that was part of the counter guy’s problem. I waited. He called up some names to deliver orders, including the people I’d talked to. He did not make eye contact with me. He did not acknowledge me in any way for five and a half minutes. At one point he deliberately looked around me at the people who had come in behind me. I moved into his field of vision and he still refused to make eye contact.
Finally he deigned to take my order. I ordered a sandwich that is usually served warm. He said he would call me when it was ready. I found a seat in the other room. After a few minutes – they were very busy – I got up and stood in the doorway so I could hear my name when it was called. It wasn’t called. I could see a sandwich in a basket sitting on the counter. Didn’t call my name. Didn’t call it. Called the couple – also tourists – who had come in behind me. Then he saw me standing there, quickly turned to pick up my ticket, and called my name. The bread was stiff and clearly had been warmed or toasted, but the sandwich was room temperature.
Other than not being warm, the sandwich was good. The sprouts and avocado that were part of it were fresh, with ripe avocado, and if I had gotten it when it was ready it would have been delicious. The apple pie was very good. I can recommend the food, but really can’t recommend the place. I understand being busy, but it doesn’t take that much time to say, “I’ll be with you in a minute.” There are people in the world who don’t like me, certainly, but usually they get to know me before they make that decision. Maybe I just wasn’t quite Marin-county enough for this guy.
The only problem with their sign is that it points away from the restaurant.
Valley Ford is also a tiny settlement, with Rocker Oysterfeller’s, Dinnucci’s Italian Restaurant and a place called the Estero Café. The two restaurants were also closed on a Tuesday. According to Yelp, Rocker Oysterfellers is good but it’s hard to tell when they are open.
I spent some time here; a lovely shop with lots of local handcrafts including textiles from Abby Bard, handmade soaps, and jams and preserves. There is, or will be, a cheese and wine bar in here too.
Both Tomales and Valley Ford were railroad stops, back in the day. I don’t know if the narrow gauge tourist line that brought people from San Francisco out to the redwoods ran through the valley, but it would certainly make sense. Now, it is dairy and tourist country.
