Category Dinner

Bourbon and Beef

Friday, October 4, 2013 0 Ballin', Dinner, Lunch, Oakland , , , Permalink 0
Bourbon and Beef

Until I saw all the cute boys in the neighborhood, I was seriously pissed that my mom moved me to Rockridge when I was 14 (in 1975). I was a Berkeley kid. Moving to Oakland was uncool. The kids that hung out on the steps of Chabot School (smoking and drinking) were rivals to the kids who hung out at the 7-11 in Elmwood (smoking and drinking). It was a Jets/Sharks kind of situation. Well, without any real threat of violence. Oddly enough, my parents didn’t take my grievances about the situation seriously. With the perspective of an older person and the ...

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Rosamunde’s Sausage Grill

Thursday, September 26, 2013 0 Broakland, Dinner, Lunch, Oakland , , , , , , Permalink 0
Rosamunde’s Sausage Grill

Contrary to popular belief, Gertrude Stein did not disdain Oakland. Her so often repeated (and misquoted) line “there is no there there” was not an indictment of our city, but an observation made in painful nostalgia that the Oakland of her childhood (and her childhood home) no longer existed. The rural Oakland (pop 35,000) that she left in 1891 had given way to an urban Oakland (pop 300,000) when she returned in 1935. But her actual meaning doesn’t matter. The saying so perfectly represents the dichotomy between the perception of Oakland and the reality. To outsiders Oakland is either a thug ...

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Trueburger

Monday, September 23, 2013 0 Broakland, Dinner, Lunch, Oakland , , , , , Permalink 0
Trueburger

“Have you found my husband’s body yet?” my grandmother practiced saying in Spanish on her third day alone in the desert. She was in a VW bus in Baja. When it broke down my grandfather rode off on the 90cc Honda dirt bike across the sand dunes to look for help. At the time she was practicing her morbid Spanish, he was waiting for auto parts on the laid back schedule of a small Mexican town. The note he’d written and given to a crop duster to drop to her had (predictably) not made it into her hands. They were adventurous people ...

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Grand Lake Kitchen

Tuesday, September 3, 2013 0 Dinner, Lunch, Oakland , , , , Permalink 0
Grand Lake Kitchen

Getting knocked unconscious is (ironically) the most memorable experience I’ve had on Grand avenue. I woke up on the pavement after a car driving next to me honked so loudly that I swerved into a parked car and flew off my bike headlong and headfirst into the street. I was 12. No one stopped. Likely concussed, I rode home anyway. Later that day my mom yelled at me and my dog bit me. That’s the stuff of country songs right there. That was the summer I was taking sailing lessons on Lake Merritt. In those days, in the late summer and fall ...

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Desco

Wednesday, August 21, 2013 0 Dinner, Oakland , , , , Permalink 0
Desco

The guy next to me flashed a (foamy) smile and said, “We drink our beer at room temperature in England.” “That’s because Lucas Electrics makes your refrigeration.” Ba-Dum-Bump. I got a hearty laugh. Lucas Electrics made the electrical systems for british cars that were notorious for failing. We were holding up the bar at Fauna in the midst of the recent troubles in Oakland. Frosty and I were there to support the restaurant, as were the Brit and his companions. I was feeling magnanimous and benevolent (when will I learn to recognize the hubris that comes before a fall?) so I told ...

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Homestead

Thursday, August 8, 2013 1 Dinner, Oakland, Uncategorized No tags Permalink 0
Homestead

Went to the first night of service at Homestead last night. It's a beautiful space and a great addition to the already happening food scene on Piedmont Ave. It's described as a "Farm to Table Bistro" which always means I will be able to get my protein on. And yes, there is meat here! The kitchen is open to the room, which gives it a homey feel. The food was good, some of it was great. These peppers were ridiculously good. Like potato chip good. I could eat two plates of these. ...

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Bay Wolf

Wednesday, July 10, 2013 1 Dinner, Oakland , , , Permalink 0
Bay Wolf

From the window of my school bus, I saw people (grown-ups!) ripping up asphalt from the park with their bare hands. It was 1971 and we were stopped (impeded by protesters) at People’s Park on Dwight Way. In my mind, I stood solidly with the people, hoping they would prevail against The Man. I’d decided a few years before which side I was on, when the National Guard helicopters circled above our house and the Alameda County sheriffs opened fire on Berkeley protesters (killing one and blinding another). I checked to see if my hair had reached my shoulders yet. I ...

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Wood Tavern

Friday, June 28, 2013 1 Dinner, Lunch, Oakland , , , Permalink 0
Wood Tavern

In 1980, I had breakfast almost every day with the Moonies. I was a high school dropout with a 10 speed bicycle, a couple of pairs of jeans, and no prospects. I’d roll to College Ave every morning for my croissant and latte at the Aladdin restaurant, which everyone knew was run by Moonies. I resisted invitations from the (unpaid, we later learned) glassy eyed servers to come for dinner and indoctrination. I was only there because they had an espresso machine. Tres hip in those days. My job at the nearby gourmet sandwich shop (Curds and Whey, for the OG ...

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Rumbo al Sur

Friday, June 21, 2013 3 Dinner, Oakland , , Permalink 0
Rumbo al Sur

In Paris in 2004, at dinner one night, a perplexed looking frenchman said to me (voice dripping with disdain) “I do not understand why Americans eat Mexican Food.” At that moment the duck roullaide he himself had prepared was melting on my tongue so delightfully it took some effort to keep my eyeballs from rolling back in my head. It was a perfect dish. Its understated flavors allowed the duck to shine without interference, seasoning standing on the sidelines to attend and support like the dresser of a great actor. I thought of the rough and tumble flavors of Tex ...

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Duende

Thursday, June 6, 2013 1 Dinner, Oakland , , , , , , Permalink 0
Duende

Fran broke my heart just by showing up. You see, I was hopelessly, tragically in love with Robbie. I spent my days dreaming of impressing him. I had hero fantasies involving me pulling people from burning car wrecks and saving lives by deftly administering first aid on the scene while Robbie watched from the sidelines, impressed by my 14 year old medical prowess. In my mind I was the girl in the field in that Andrew Wyeth painting, crawling towards Robbie instead of a farmhouse, felled not by polio but by the devastating effects of true love. My situation was perilous. So ...

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