The return to Last House
M.F.K. Fisher’s legendary home has finally been restored
When I first visited M.F.K. Fisher at her Glen Ellen home, named Last House, she was writing longhand on a yellow legal pad, in bed.
The reason I’d been invited to lunch in 1988 was that her friend Kathleen Hill had worked in the John F. Kennedy White House and they thought that since I was a reporter for the local paper, the Sonoma Index-Tribune, I could write a story on the 25th anniversary of the president’s assassination.
That day, Fisher — I addressed her as Mary Frances — invited me to come visit again. I did, and often. She was both gracious and stern with me. When I complained of difficulties being a single mother and making a living in journalism, she was unsympathetic, shooting me “just do it” looks. She’d raised two daughters on her own industrious writing. If I mentioned a looming deadline, she’d rush me out the door: “Never miss a deadline!”
On my visits, I would eat sauteed squash blossoms and vivid greens in the redwood-ceilinged living room or sit on the balcony facing Sonoma Mountain, craving one of her famous fried-egg sandwiches to stash in my pocket for later.
No one ever came calling to the prolific food writer’s house empty-handed, and I, too, was tormented seeking treats worthy of her, like perfectly ripe black mission figs picked off my El Verano tree.
Flowing through the house was always an endless stream of gifts. “There would always be bottles of wine, zucchini, jars of honey or a dozen eggs. People would drop off fresh things for her,” said Margie Foster, Fisher’s typist from 1976 to 1981. “People would bring her bounty and put it on that table. And she would reciprocate.”
It was not uncommon for Alice Waters to show up with armloads of vegetables and flowers from a nearby farm visit, or to see Fisher practicing a peasant stew recipe for a meal with Julia Child.
“She was kind of a contemporary of Hemingway and Fitzgerald, but she outwrote and outdrank both of them,” said Scott Worsham, a former Sonoma County resident who now runs a Chicago restaurant named MFK in her honor.
Fisher died in 1992 at 83. Since then, visitors to Sonoma Valley and fans of hers have long wondered about the fate of her enchanting palazzino on that oak-studded hill at Bouverie Preserve.
There’s finally an answer.
Fisher moved into Last House in 1971, after she sold her St. Helena Victorian for $36,000. She gave the money to David Pleydell-Bouverie, an English aristocrat and architect, to build her a house on his Glen Ellen property. The two designed it together. “She got exactly what she wanted. She was very grateful,” said her daughter, Kennedy Golden. A few years later, Bouverie donated his 535 acres of wildflowers, waterfalls and wildlife to the nonprofit Audubon Canyon Ranch (ACR).
It was understood that when VIPs visited Fisher, they would be brought round to Bouverie’s home just up the hill. “They had a lot of wellknown people in common,” said Golden, noting lauded visitors like Herb Caen and Maya Angelou. “There was a well-worn path between the two houses.” Occasionally a celebrated guest would spend time with one, and not the other. “David was not pleased if they came to visit my mother and they didn’t come up to see him,” Golden said.
After Fisher’s death, many wanted Last House to immediately be turned into a museum, though the family was reluctant. Some were crestfallen when Bouverie’s land steward, John Martin, moved in. But Golden said Martin and Fisher were friends, and the family had no objection.
When Martin retired last year, Golden was convinced by Audubon Canyon Ranch board members that restoring her mother’s Mediterraneanstyle house would benefit Fisher’s legacy and the property.
“At first I was not interested,” Golden said. “It sounded commercial.”
But her stance softened. Now she believes it is aligned with her mother’s priorities (people, food, nature).
Instead of an exact restoration, the nonprofit’s executive director, John Petersen, said the goal is to re-create the “ambience” of Last House. A task force will decide how to carefully turn the residence into a destination.
“It’s wonderful the way it’s not being treated as a museum, how it’s being done in her spirit. She often talked about making it a writers’ retreat,” said Marsha Moran, Fisher’s former secretary.
A letter was sent out to Fisher’s circles, asking those who were given or inherited Fisher’s possessions to consid- er returning them to the house.
“Some things people are not ready to part with. I think it’s sort of fine for it to be thinner than it was. It represents her spirit,” said Moran, who is holding onto a bookcase and bed that belonged to Fisher.
Foster, the typist, did not hesitate to return the wicker fan chair she was bequeathed. “I felt it should be there,” she said. Other personal possessions like Fisher’s Coronamatic typewriter, her books and her artwork have also been returned, and the centerpiece of the house — the palatial bathroom — has been repainted the requisite Chinese red.
An inaugural event held on June 11 shows the stucco structure looks like it did when Fisher lived there.
“It’s definitely a step in the right direction. She dearly loved the preserve,” said friend Joanne Filipello, founder of Wild Thyme catering. Her relationship with Fisher began in 1978 when she and chef-husband Keith owned a farm-to-table French restaurant named Capri on Sonoma Plaza. Years later, she ended up as Fisher’s substitute driver.
“It unleashed a flood of memories,” she added.
On that Sunday, Filipello made ratatouille from Fisher’s classic cookbook, “With Bold Knife and Fork.” It was a dish Fisher made many times; she’d cook the vegetables together in a fairly slow oven for a short while, then turn it off, leaving it in there overnight. She served it at room temperature, with bread and salad. “She liked fresh, clean, fairly simple food. The ingredients were very key,” Filipello said.
Going forward, Last House will be a site for author and chef interviews, open-house afternoons and maybe even some cassoulet dinners. Many hope it to be a fitting tribute for Fisher, whose final work was titled “Last House.” In it, she wrote about aging, bothersome journalists, leftovers, writing to friends, sipping vermouth, eating chocolate and her cat Charlie.
In her books and in her home, Fisher always seemed to be able to put words together and people together in a way that made things extraordinary, noted former secretary Moran. “I think that was her genius,” she added.