boon eat + drink

Boon.

Cool word, eh!

Regular readers to my blog know I am unashamedly a word nerd, and "boon" was a recent word-of-the-day discovery during my diurnal dive into Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda.

First some housekeeping: Our mates at Merriam-Webster define the noun “boon” as:

1. a timely benefit : blessing.

2. benefit, favor, especially one that is given in answer to a request.

Of course, as a lad growing up in New Zealand, I knew the word “Boone,” Daniel (RIP, Fess Parker) that is, from the telly. And for those old enough to remember the American action/adventure TV show, sing it with me:

Daniel Boone was a man,

Yes, a big man!

With an eye like an eagle

And as tall as a mountain was he!

On the sylvan playground of a West Auckland kiwifruit orchard, this boy often pretended to be this “man.” My Red Band gumboots were my “rawhide shoes” and yes, I did once throw a small axe at a tree hoping to split it in two. Ah, “what a dream-come-a-truer was ‘me!’”

Fast-forward to May, 2025 and the verdant playground of yesteryear was now sunny Sonoma County, California, on a getaway weekend with my wife, Teresa. The “coonskin cap on the top of ol’ Stevie" was my signature black Jacaru, and our trails concerned the majesty of Wine Country.

To my delight, my word-nerd eagle eye spotted “boon eat + drink” in the search results during an online query of places to eat. What a boon! A farm-to-table bistro by chef/owner Crista Luedtke in Guerneville offered a chance to eat + drink + reinforce a newly acquired word to my vocabulary.

I had to eat at this restaurant. I had to drink at this bistro. I had to know why the word “boon” was in the name. Menu, ratings, and reviews have their place—but for this patron diction was the overriding reason to visit. My wife and I headed off posthaste to 16248 Main Street, Guerneville, California snuggled in the Russian River Valley.

After we were seated, the cozy and hip ambiance of the place washed over us. Festive, too (three ladies at an adjacent table were wearing birthday party hats). If additional singers were needed to meet the socially acceptable “happy birthday” quorum, my wife and I were ready.

Marisa, our waitress, a cheerful lady of unfeigned mien, provided us with menus and an opportunity to voice a question yearning emancipation from the tip of my tongue.

“Marisa, I’m curious as to why the word 'boon' is in the name of the bistro. I know it means a timely benefit or blessing, but what’s the backstory on its use?"

“Boon was the name of the owner’s black-and-white rescue dog. He’s since passed on, a few years ago.”

The naming itch had been scratched; it was time to eat + drink.

“Anything you recommend?” asked Teresa.

“Everything is good. The shishito peppers are very popular.”

Good, nay, great they were: forget diction, benediction, all-hail-to-the-kitchen good! We followed that with seared duck breast served over fennel puree and spring veggies (moi), and pan-seared salmon with black lentils, kale, brown butter, smoked yogurt and blistered tomatoes (Teresa).

As I savoured every mouthful, pairing with a Golden State Cider, I was reminded of my parents’ dining rule of “always eat everything on your plate.” I honoured them both—and then some!

Tip of the Jacaru to Boon the dog; dear reader, go visit this delightful bistro and eat + drink.

🥝🥝🥝🥝

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