Best Thanksgiving wine? Bet on syrah

There is no perfect wine for the Thanksgiving meal, our colleague Laurie Daniel says. There are simply too many food flavors to account for: earthy, savory, salty, tangy and sweet. You could drive yourself crazy trying to match each course or dish with a particular wine. That’s why Daniel usually tries to find one wine that does a good job at complementing the whole meal. Pinot noir is often her wine of choice. But this year, she’s going with a wine made from Rhone grapes, most likely syrah or a blend. Check out her recommendations before you head to the store.

Sand and ice: Beachside holiday ice rinks draw merry crowds

It's a sunny, crisp day at the beach in Alameda. Kids comb for shells, tossing driftwood into the surf for an eager pup, as kite surfers catch a breeze and skaters twirl double Salchows on the ice. OK, you got me, I'm making that last part up. Nobody's doing double Salchows. More like triple wobbles and never-ending knee-crunch tumbles. But the part about ice skating at the beach is true!

Despite the inherent contradiction, these opposite qualities attract the crowds, and an increasing number of holiday ice rinks have been popping up in recent years along California's sandy shorelines and bayside waterfronts. From the Little Ice Rink at Alameda's beachside South Shore Center and the annual holiday ice rink at Embarcadero Center -- with the Ferry Building and the bay as a backdrop -- to a make-your-heart-melt Ice Kingdom outside the Queen Mary in Long Beach and a palm-tree-studded rink at the historic Hotel del Coronado near San Diego, we're taking you on a mini tour of this year's sunshine on ice: The Little Ice Rink, Alameda Advertisement This 4,100-square-foot seasonal rink, complete with mini Zamboni and color-changing LED lights at night, is set up in the parking lot near the Petco store at the South Shore shopping mall, backdropped by pleasant pink sunsets over Crown Beach. Off the Grid food trucks are just steps away from the rink for lunch breaks on Saturdays, and Panera Bread will be serving coffee, hot chocolate and cookies on select days. 

The annual ice rink at the beach at the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego. The annual ice rink at the beach at the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego. (Hotel del Coronado) And, for extra fun, Mondays are Ugly Sweater Day and Wednesdays are '80s Night (there was lots of Van Halen in the air on a recent evening). And the San Jose Sharks' mascot, Sharkie himself, will stop by the rink at 3:30 p.m. Dec. 21. The rink: Alameda South Shore Center, 523 S. Shore Center Way (off Park Street near Otis Drive); www.thelittleicerink.com Frosty details: Open daily through Jan. 19. Tickets $10 (with your own skates) to $15 (includes skate rental); $6 to $10 for children ages 8 and under. 

Holiday Ice Rink at Embarcadero Center, San Francisco Backed by a view of the San Francisco Ferry Building, Bay Bridge and the bay itself, the Embarcadero Center ice rink has been a San Francisco tradition for more than 25 years. Ninety-minute skate sessions start at every even hour. Off the Grid trucks will be parked nearby from noon to 4 p.m. Saturdays, and it's a great chance to wander the shops at the Ferry Building -- pick up a muffuletta at Boccalone, cheese samples at Cowgirl Creamery or some winter chanterelle at Far West Fungi. Then stroll the Embarcadero and take in the glittering Bay Lights installation on the bridge.

San Jose: After 13 hours, police negotiate burglary suspect off roof

After keeping a small army of police officers and firefighters at bay for 13 hours while hurling bricks, setting his shirt on fire and teetering precariously from a third-story window ledge, a determined burglary suspect was finally enticed off the roof of a three-story Victorian home Sunday afternoon. As he was lowered on a fire truck ladder about 3 p.m., the man -- whom police could not identify and was booked as John Doe -- was shot with rubber bullets as he climbed along the ladder. An officer heaved the suspect onto the ground, where he was surrounded by officers and arrested.

He was transported in an ambulance to a local hospital. A man keeps police at bay during a 12-hour standoff in San Jose, Calif., Sunday, Nov. 30, 2014. Neighbors were awakened by an intruder at 2:30 a.m. on A man keeps police at bay during a 12-hour standoff in San Jose, Calif., Sunday, Nov. 30, 2014. Neighbors were awakened by an intruder at 2:30 a.m. on South Second Street. He then fled to a nearby Victorian structure where he hid on the roof and in the attic before tear gas finally forced him out. (Karl Mondon/Bay Area News Group) ( Karl Mondon ) Amazingly, the suspect endured multiple rounds of acrid, eye-burning tear gas, while members of the San Jose Police Department's emergency tactical team, known as MERGE, continuously negotiated with him in Spanish via bullhorn.

The wet weather pitched in to extinguish a potential conflagration. "We got lucky with the rain," said Lt. Rick Weger. After the man burned his shirt while sitting atop the wood shingle roof in the 900 block of South Second Street, "he continuously tried to light things on fire." For hours, a crowd gathered at a nearby corner in the Washington neighborhood, watching and pointing cellphone cameras at the gabled Victorian. Onlookers held their collective breath as the shirtless man seemed on the verge of either jumping or slipping and falling. Advertisement "C'mon kid," said one woman who declined to give here name, while others murmured, "Oh no, oh no!" The drama began about 2 a.m., when Germain Shamoun, 51, awoke to the sound of glass breaking at her home. While she dialed 911, her boyfriend, Andrew Johnson, 57, went to investigate and found a strange man in their hallway. "I talked to him, 'Come on, come on,' and walked him to the door," Johnson said. "I pushed him out."

The intruder, who appeared not to be armed, kept shouting "Call 911! Call 911," according to Shamoun and Johnson. "The officers were here within two minutes, Shamoun said, "I love them." She said the couple's surveillance camera showed a bleeding man first trying to enter through the front door, then breaking a back window. After he was escorted out of that house, the man climbed the outside rear stairs of the adjacent house and scrambled onto the roof. He broke apart the chimney and threw bricks down at cars, officers and firefighters gathered below, said neighbors awoken by the commotion.

Officers reported the man appeared to be under the influence of drugs or alcohol and ignored commands to come down. When the morning rain began, the suspect climbed into the Victorian's attic -- some said by breaking a window. He sat on the sill, alternately swinging his legs, gesturing and leaning forward, then standing up. Nearby neighbors had been evacuated earlier, and police cordoned off the block. Residents said they were asked to either leave or stay indoors.

Police periodically fired rounds of tear gas, which stung the eyes and throats of onlookers behind police tape, half a block away and sent them fleeing even further. But the spray seemed not to faze the man, as he moved Spiderman-like from ledge to ledge, occasionally throwing down what appeared to be molding and other items from the house. Even in an area accustomed to drama, the standoff riveted and disrupted the Spartan Keys neighborhood. "We're so used to sirens, we don't even pay attention to them," said one neighbor who was barred from returning to her home and who refused to give her name.

Marine captain refused to leave Afghan interpreter behind

Long after completing a 2010 tour of duty in Afghanistan, Marine Capt. Adrian Kinsella felt haunted by the sense that he didn't uphold a core military commitment: Leave no one behind. There, in the war-torn region and still in harm's way, remained Kinsella's Afghan combat interpreter, Mohammad -- a slim, reserved man who had stood by his side in moments of looming danger. Marked for death by the Taliban because he helped the Americans, Mohammad's father had been tortured and murdered, and his younger brother held for ransom. "Until I got him out of there," Kinsella said, "all of my men weren't home.

" Marine Capt. Adrian Kinsella, left, and his roommate, Mohammad, leave the Maritime Museum of San Diego after a Fourth of July fireworks celebration in San Marine Capt. Adrian Kinsella, left, and his roommate, Mohammad, leave the Maritime Museum of San Diego after a Fourth of July fireworks celebration in San Diego Bay, Calif., on Friday, July 4, 2014. Mohammad was Kinsella's Afghan combat interpreter. (LiPo Ching/Bay Area News Group) ( LiPo Ching ) After 3 ½ years of frustrating efforts to get Mohammad a visa, Kinsella finally stood at San Francisco International Airport in January, waiting to embrace a man he calls his brother.

"It was like I was being born again," said Mohammad, whose last name is not being used by this newspaper because his family remains in peril. Today, they are roommates as Kinsella attends the UC Berkeley School of Law. Mohammad works at a high-tech company after a chance meeting with the CEO at a Super Bowl party, drives a used Prius and is making plans to become a U.S. citizen. Advertisement As American forces draw down from Afghanistan, the pair also are focusing attention on the plight of interpreters. They have traveled to Washington, D.C., to lobby lawmakers and shine a spotlight on combat translators who haven't received the sanctuary they were promised in return for their service.

They also have sought unsuccessfully, so far a change in the special immigrant visa program that would allow Mohammad's family, still in hiding, to join him in the United States. Marine Capt. Adrian Kinsella, left, fist bumps his roommate, Mohammad, right, after Mohammad finishes skeet shooting for the first time at the Camp Marine Capt. Adrian Kinsella, left, fist bumps his roommate, Mohammad, right, after Mohammad finishes skeet shooting for the first time at the Camp Pendleton Recreational Shooting Range in Camp Pendleton, Calif., on Saturday, July 5, 2014. Mohammad was Kinsella's Afghan combat interpreter. (LiPo Ching/Bay Area News Group) ( LiPo Ching ) Together again in Northern California, they marvel at how their roles are reversed. "Adrian is my interpreter now," Mohammad said. He paused to look at Kinsella, breaking into a sly smile. "But he's still not as good as I was for him."

Sitting at a Berkeley restaurant patio with friends on a recent sun-bleached Saturday, Kinsella and Mohammad couldn't be more different. Kinsella, 28 -- the type of no-nonsense Marine who sees a project through once he sets his mind -- attended Cornell as an undergraduate and will become a Marine judge advocate when he graduates from UC Berkeley next year. Mohammad, 25, was raised in Kandahar and became a translator simply as a way to help support his family. He also radiates a quiet calm. There's a reason why American service members nicknamed him "Yoda" -- much to his chagrin when he later was shown a picture of the "Star Wars" character. They met during Kinsella's seven-month tour in Helmand province. Then a second lieutenant, Kinsella led a 35-man platoon that often patrolled the countryside. Kinsella said his time in Afghanistan largely was peaceful and that they "only" were shot at once. But every time they left the base, they were on edge.

"You just didn't know who the good guys or the bad guys were," Kinsella said. Mohammad did. Kinsella, well aware that the safety of his men and him rested at least partially in the hands of the interpreter, came to trust him completely. "He gave you the context needed in a war zone," Kinsella said. "He would tell you what was really going on when he translated. He would say, 'They're lying, and this is why.' This was a man who really wanted to have a hand in creating a better place." Mohammad paid a terrible price. When they found his father's body in 2009, he had been grotesquely mutilated, including missing fingers and holes in his head. Mohammad's work as a translator had been discovered by the Taliban.

Storm soaks region, but drought's grip still tight

So much rain has fallen in the Santa Cruz Mountains that Terri Hunsinger captured 12,000 gallons on her metal roof to use for drinking, cleaning and household chores. Yet her family still only takes showers, not baths, to conserve. "I have gotten used to that," she says. Parts of the Bay Area have gotten almost as much rain in the past two days as fell all of last year. Recent storms put us well above our normal rainfall average. And yes we're still in a drought.

The simple explanation behind that frustrating fact is this: Most of the water causing mudslides, downing trees and snarling traffic will not flow into our faucets. The Wednesday morning commute was a headache, although the California Highway Patrol reported fewer crashes than the previous morning. Standing water in roadways was a hazard, especially on heavily traveled Mission Boulevard in Fremont, where police closed the northbound lanes at 8 a.m. There's another big problem: These storms are too warm.

To be truly useful, rain needs to turn into snow when it hits the Sierra -- because that's where next summer's water is stored. Snowpack is only 20 percent of normal. By comparison, rainfall here in the Bay Area is between 121 percent and 165 percent normal. "It needs to be snow that acts as a bank that we can draw upon, in the spring," said National Weather Service meteorologist Steve Anderson.Over the past five days, San Jose has had 3.68 inches of rain; Oakland, 3.62 inches; Concord, 2.65 inches; San Francisco, 4.33 inches and Ben Lomond, a stunning 10.12 inches. Thursday is expected to be mostly cloudy, with a chance of showers.

Showers also are likely Friday. The people who benefit most from the rain are folks like Hunsinger, who has filled five large rain barrels by capturing every drop that falls on her Los Gatos roof. "We can now do laundry at home instead of laundromat, flush toilets after peeing and take more than a 3-minute shower," she said. "Rain washes our cars and waters our plants. There's no more fire fear. "Life is more relaxed, water-wise, which is a big thing," she said. "Thank God for rain." But residents who rely on wells say they've seen no improvement at all.

At Letha Welch's home, where a once-bountiful well no longer sustains a family of five, "we still ran short of rain to refill the aquifer." People with even deeper wells will have to wait longer. In the rural Central Valley town of Alpaugh, "our wells are so deep -- 1,320 and 1,100 feet -- that water is going to percolate into them very slowly," said John Burchard, who manages the town's water supply. "It will take some time." Urban water systems for Bay Area cities rely on reservoirs and snow -- and for them, it's as if no rain fell at all.