Cay Sehnert

The book dealer works seven days a week at his used bookstore, The BookHouse, in South Pasadena.

On the Waterfront: Sunday morning, I’ll head down to Utro’s at the Wharf, next to the San Pedro fishing fleet. Geno, the cook, makes the best breakfast potatoes I’ve ever had. I eat a good, solid American breakfast out on the patio and watch the harbor--and myself--slowly come to life.

Bay Watch: The alternative to Utro’s is to grab a club sandwich from Hi-Life Burgers in South Pasadena and then shave and eat in the car, while parked with a view of the entrance to San Pedro Bay. Tugboats, seals, sailboats, pelicans, fishing vessels, pleasure yachts and marine radio traffic on my portable scanner provide the entertainment. Just the morning sun on the water itself can be magical.

Traditional Fare: Sunday night I head for “church,” which is Restaurant Aoi in Little Tokyo, a family-owned favorite. I’ll have edamame, gyoza, rice and Nameko Jiru, a delicious miso soup with tofu and button mushrooms. A cold Kirin beer is also mandatory. This hearty traditional meal has provided me a sense of spiritual renewal for more than 20 years.

Meeting Mother Nature: Whenever possible, I’ll make a quick three-hour Monday morning round-trip to Angeles National Forest, for hiking or winter trout fishing. In the fall, the trees changing color in this area are beautiful, and the back side of Strawberry Peak is majestic, especially when there is snow.

Hearing the Blues: Monday nights, Harvelle’s in Santa Monica has the best blues jam in town, and bartender Lola keeps the neighborhood pub spirit alive. I’d put Larry Johnson and the New Breed up against just about any other blues band you could offer.

Back to the Harbor: Tuesday evening, I head to a mediocre Chinese place that just happens to have a spectacular outdoor view of the San Pedro shipping canal and the Vincent Thomas Bridge. I have the spicy bean curd with minced pork, but the laconic waiter often lies about whether meat is available that day. I eat whatever he brings me, while satisfying my terminal fascination with cargo ships twice the size of the Glendale Galleria.

The Capper: For an after-dinner drink, Shannon’s in Belmont Shore is friendly, although I’ve never had the stamina to stay late enough to witness any entertaining bar fights. More likely, I’ll head home and lull myself to sleep listening on the scanner to voice communications from The International Space Station.