Bucket list
“The name arose out of an informal party in 1963. A small group of friends were hanging out on a Sunday afternoon in my original beer joint facing the ocean, the Ebb Tide Cafe. While drinking and listening to recorded music, some other people fell in with some dynamite. They suggested we all go out and explode it on the beach. (After we) declin(ed) their offer, the dynamiters left us to do their deed.
“Meanwhile back to the party and music: In a change of mood, I put on my recording of the Bach Brandenberg Concerti. Upon listening a while, someone suggested the music was in 4/4 time — why not dance to it! This we did, doing a form of West Coast Swing dancing to Bach, when we heard an explosion on the beach. An inebriated guest, Bob Swift, upon hearing the blast, claimed we were the Bach Dancing & Dynamite Society.”
Douglas' daughter Barbara Riching, who's taken the reins as president and artistic director of the society, recalls growing up in that wild atmosphere.
“In the 1960s, people got away with stuff, generally,” she says. “The (local) population was probably onethird of what it is today. Furthermore, on the coast there were just a lot of crazies that lived there. It attracted people who didn't fit in or conform to other places.”
One of those nonconformers was a man named Pat Britt, who went on to become a well-known saxophone player in the Los Angeles area. Douglas wasn't a musician himself — he just grew up during the big band era and loved the whole West Coast scene — but he was a probation officer. Britt was on probation for having stolen some baloney from a grocery store, so it was perhaps natural they'd meet up. What wasn't so expected was the two men forming a bond that helped transform Douglas' beach house into a star-powered jazz club.
“Pat lived in the Peninsula and was connected to a lot of local jazz musicians, so a lot of (what followed) emanated from that relationship, at first,” says Riching. “Then jazz had a renaissance in the late '70s and there were a lot of musicians coming through San Francisco. My dad always did Sunday afternoons. It's a little niche where you capture touring musicians. They would come play a club in San Francisco and then Sunday afternoon, they might be free.”
As the Douglas children sat and tried to do homework, a cavalcade of jazz musicians would drop by to do shows or hang out and play records — Dexter Gordon, Stan Getz, Betty Carter, McCoy Tyner. Joe Locke, a famous vibraphonist, stayed the night several times (but was nice enough not to keep the kids up banging on his instrument).
Today, visiting the Bach Dancing & Dynamite Society still feels like you're walking into somebody's house.
“What makes it special is the confluence of the atmosphere and the beauty of the ocean combined with how my dad created the concert room,” Riching says. “The stage is specifically designed not to be that tall, so it makes it harder maybe to see, but you feel like you're in a living room right with the musicians. It's a very intimate experience.”
I visited the club on a recent Sunday to see Jane Bunnett and Maqueque, an all-female Afro-Cuban band with a killer drummer and vocalist. The wind was whipping off the Pacific like a banshee, but inside the acoustics in the elegantly cedar-paneled room were perfect. Some guests brought their own bottles — in fact, it's encouraged — and glasses of wine and beer and a light dinner were served in adjoining rooms. (Some evenings there are also food trucks.)
“My dad thought of this before everyone started doing that kind of thing — the picnicking, the wine,” says Riching. “It's meant to be more of a social outing. And in the end you experience this wonderful thing and it rejuvenates you for the week.”
So, to summarize: two jazz-hands up. And for folks who want to make a night of it, there's Half Moon Bay to explore. The upscale Pasta Moon is a standout for its homemade pastas, such as buttternut-mascarpone ravioli with sage and amaretti or Manila-clam linguine with pancetta and braised leeks.
La Costanera is a great if somewhat pricey option for contemporary Peruvian cuisine from well-regarded Bay Area chef Carlos Altamirano. For a cheaper bite, try the Lamas food truck that's typically in the parking lot behind La Costanera. It draws lines for traditional Peruvian-Mexican offerings and bountiful ceviche.
Then there's the stalwart Half Moon Bay Brewing Company located so close to the water, you can hear the seals going off on each other. The pub fare is solid, and the chefs blacken a great fish sandwich. And fans of California's best vegetable, the artichoke, will find it grilled or beerbattered in portions large enough to satisfy the Jolly Green Giant.