This sunny Mediterranean home with easy indoor-outdoor flow combines lovely architectural details (circa 1927) with extensive structural upgrades. Historic outbuilding (originally a stable?) awaits your vision. For full details and photo tour please visit the property website, or join me at an Open House, May 13 and 20, 2:00 – 4:00.

There is an amazing documentary film in the theaters right now, called “Jiro Dreams of Sushi.” It’s about an octogenarian sushi chef, but really, it’s a complete life lesson packed into the length of a movie. And in my opinion, if you distilled it down even further, the essence of Jiro’s philosophy is contained in this clip, which culminates in massaging the octopus.

A week after seeing the film, I am still thinking about it, and Jiro, every day. Here is somebody who has been doing the exact same thing day after day, year after year, decade after decade — yet still looks for ways to improve, still seeks mastery of his craft.  I have never spent even one second thinking about how octopus is prepared prior to serving as sushi. Who knew it could be improved by massaging it? Not me. Who knew that massaging it for 40-50 minutes, not just 30 minutes, would give it the perfect, soft texture? Jiro.

I want my own clients to have the same experience as Jiro’s customers. I also been doing the same thing day after day, for 24 years, I also strive to improve every day — to deliver that soft texture which is the end result of hard work done behind the scenes. For me, the payoff is not the paycheck. It is the look on your face at the end of your meal, the close of your escrow, when I get to see that all of my years of accumulated effort and attention to my craft have allowed me to deliver to you a single, perfect moment of pure joy.

After a recent rainstorm, some seepage had occurred in the basement, and shortly after, a foul odor had emanated from that area. It was soon apparent that chemicals used to bond the laminated baseboard had reacted with the water, dissolving and releasing noxious fumes. Now, the damaged floor and wall materials had been removed, and the room had been dehumidified, but Nancy needed a second opinion about whether the stink was truly gone as well.

While I was happy to drop by and lend my sniffer, I was more interested in the mystery at the source of the problem. Nancy had lived in that house for many years, with nary a sign of moisture – why now?

I looked all around the basement for any sign of leaking pipes, water tracks on the walls, backed up sump pumps or unsealed windows. Nothing. I went outside and walked the perimeter, looking for signs of a broken sewer line, small sinkholes, standing water, or open irrigation lines. Still nothing.

I scoped out the lay of the land – Nancy lives on a down-sloping lot, so I checked out the storm drain at the street above, and tromped around the outside of her garage, through some ferocious ivy, looking for clues. Finally, as I was fighting my way around the far side of her garage, I saw it. Just a few feet away at the neighbor’s house, a PVC pipe ran from the neighbor’s gutter, along the garage wall, and angled down to the rear of that neighbor’s yard.  But right in the middle of the span was a joint, and at that joint, the pipe had separated, dangling from its bracket in mid-air.

Eyeballing the hillside between the separated pipe and Nancy’s house, it was clear that any water spilling form this pipe would follow an invisible path under the ivy directly to Nancy’s basement wall.  Further investigation revealed that the neighbor had recently replaced his roof. He had no idea that the workers had not properly re-attached the drainpipe to his gutter – probably because of all that ivy – but he was happy to fix it.  Case closed!

In my 20+ years as a Realtor, I have found that keeping water out of your home is the single most important home maintenance task. If you are having issues with water intrusion, I recommend these resources:

Dan Lynch

Tom Anderberg

Dennis Alumbaugh

Do you have a mystery for me?

Earlier that morning, I had checked in with Holiday for the Homeless, the donation drive I had sent around an email about in early December. I learned that between all of you who donated, and my own matching contribution, we were able to provide 20 backpacks for people living on the streets – each equipped with sleeping bag, warm winter coat, various toiletries, first aid, hats and gloves, flashlight, paperback books and treats.

Now, as I sat with my client in her warm living room, I felt compelled to point out that even though she won’t be getting as much as she wanted, at least she has a home to sell. Her child has a roof over his head, food in his belly, and shoes that fit. Yes, things have changed, and the current market is no longer a bonanza for Sellers. But those of us who have a home of any kind are so much more fortunate than so many others, right here and around the world.

As for waiting for the market to get back to normal, this is the new normal. Speaking from 24 years or experience, it was never “normal” to see 25% appreciation or more in a single year. It was an abnormal spike, driven by several converging economic factors, that may not happen again for a very long time. So while we tighten our belts and wait for that day, let’s enjoy a different kind of appreciation – the fact that we have homes, and our loved ones are safe within them.

This Brown Shingle home, built in 1988, is a stunning example of classic architecture combined with the best modern amenities and engineering. Soaring spaces, open floor plan, generous proportions and abundant natural light create an oasis in the hills, with graceful views of the bay. For full details, photo tour and showing times please visit my custom property website.

This sweet, brown-shingle home near Tilden Park has a beautiful bay view plus a detached “treehouse” studio, complete with kitchen and full bath! Please visit the property website for full details and a photo tour, and bring all your friends to the Open House this Sunday, July 3, from 2-4.

(Burrata is a fresh Italian cheese, made from mozzarella and cream. It’s formed in pouches about the size of a tangerine, comprised of an outer shell of solid mozzarella filled inside with a silky combination of mozzarella and cream. The word “burrata” means “buttered” in Italian. You can find burrata at the Cheese Board Collective, Berkeley Bowl, or the Country Cheese Coffee Market right across from my office.)

Take a big, juicy, vine-ripened heirloom tomato – these days I am buying the yellow-orange ones from the organic section of Berkeley Bowl West. (They don’t have great sweet tomatoes in the regular section yet, but they do in the organic section.) Slice it horizontally into slabs about 1/3” thick, then cut each slab into 6 wedges, as you would slice a pizza. Lay out the wedges close to each other on a nice platter.

Next, go into your refrigerator and find any veggies that will yield a little burst of flavor, color, or texture when finely diced. I like to use sweet onion (Vidalia) and snap peas, but you could use mild or hot peppers, shallots, fresh corn sliced off the cob, radish, cucumber, etc. The key is to almost mince your ingredient(s), about the size of sunflower seeds, then scatter them (not too thickly – don’t turn it into a vegetable salad) over the tomato wedges. Try to include either sweet onion, red or yellow onion, green onion, shallot, or garlic.

Now plunge your hands into the burrata container – the pouch comes covered in milky water, like fresh mozzarella – and pull the burrata into bite-sized chunks, scattering them over the dressed-up tomato wedges.

Finally, spoon some sweet balsamic vinegar over the burrata chunks (I like fig-infused), drizzle the whole platter with olive oil (I like lemon-infused), sprinkle generously with a tasty salt (I like the Tuscan herb salt they sell in bulk at the Pasta Shop on 4^th Street), grind on some fresh pepper, and top with plenty of slivered fresh basil leaves.

Let the platter sit while the flavors comingle and you fry up your crostini: Slice a loaf of good bread (I like Acme’s Pain au Levain) about as thick as your tomato slabs, cut off the crusts (I just snip mine off with kitchen shears), cut each slice into 2 or 3 wedges, and fry the wedges in a heavy skillet in butter and plain olive oil until crisp on the outside but chewy on the inside. Live it up; don’t skimp on the butter and olive oil (I use about 1 part salted butter to 1 part olive oil). Drain your crostini on napkins or paper towels, pile them on a plate, and use them in your hands to scoop up burrata-laden tomato wedges and sop up the mouth-watering juice that collects in the platter.

The burrata platter, plus crostini and a crisp white wine, will make a full summer’s evening meal. Eat it outside with someone you love.