Back to the Emeryville Public Market for Nyum Bai’s Cambodian Cooking

3 / 15 / 17

For townies like me, walking into the new Emeryville Public Market might tug at your nostalgic heartstrings for an East Bay of days past. The Public Market was like town square for a lot of us. It was where I learned what a food hall was: the neon signs, the trays with steaming foods from Afghanistan, Thailand, Korea, the land of BBQ Time, the smells calling us from the ball pit when we were younger, the arcade and the UA theater when we were older. I saw the O.J. Simpson chase here on a giant, clunky TV sitting next to my mom and a circle of folks on plastic chairs. Food was cheap and fast and you always ran into someone.

Now the entire area is under renovation, and when I walked in the other day with my boyfriend wanting to show him my old-school hangout, we were met with a place that looks like any new school hangout: an industrial-chic food court. Most stalls are empty but in concept the new market is inspired by the old one, growing the few international food stands there now to about 20. And as I learned last night at Nyum Bai, many of them will undoubtedly be good ones.

Nite Yun is the chef behind Nyum Bai. She fled Cambodia with her family to refugee camps in Thailand, eventually landing in Stockton, home to one of the largest Cambodian populations in the U.S. Two years after she started a pop-up offering the family foods she grew up on, she’s opened a temporary space in the market and employs seven people. Last night’s rice-themed dinner was the final event of La Cocina’s first restaurant week, highlighting successful graduates of the kitchen incubator program focused on women and immigrants. Nite was accompanied by Chef Sophina Uong, a long-time Bay Area chef who is soon to open Mestiza SF.

Nyum Kriot Tlong: Shrimp, pomelo, coconut, fish sauce, shallot, peanut and rice paper.

The food was fun and satisfying— a dance between comforting elements like coconut, chicken porridge, noodles, rice in many forms and the sharp flavors of ginger, chiles, pomelos, and fish sauce. The regular menu at Nyum Bai is noodle and rice based with items ranging from $9 to $11.

Sach Moan Char Trosot: Cucumber, chicken, oyster sauce, garlic, rice noodle.

Kor Sach Chrouk: Caramelized pork, soy egg, palm sugar, bamboo shoot.

Nyum Bai’s menu is probably a good example of the type of food that will be at the new Public Market: fresh, made with better ingredients, still pulling from the talent of the Bay Area’s immigrant population. The space was built out when she moved in, so hopefully other mobile entrepreneurs will also be provided with affordable brick and mortar opportunities.

However, it’s challenging for a small businesses to make that type of food quality affordable, and the question of how public the Public Market will be remains. The language that codes who is welcome in these new public spaces is also important— I stumbled on a 7×7 article announcing the new project that read, “Now Emeryville is catching up, with the gentrification of Public Market, a civilized food court that aims to capture the East Bay’s foodie crowd.” Civilized? What was uncivilized about the old one? That it was affordable? That kind of language is so colonial and ancient it makes me want to stomp on all the plastic balls in the ball pit. (That’s not a metaphor, just a satisfying image). Also, does foodie crowd include kids? I hope so, because families need public spaces— plus homegrown vegan ice cream maker Mr.Dewie’s is moving in and everyone should feel excited to try their delicious ice cream, not just Pixar employees.

Stories like Nite’s are the positive ones in redevelopments like these, and the stories that need to be told right now: women immigrant entrepreneurs creating jobs, doing what they love, feeding us good food.

Chefs Sophina Uong of Mestiza Taqueria and Nite Yun of Nyum Bai.

Nyum Bai at the Public Market, 5959 Shellmound St.

Black Farmers, Traditional Food and Good Vibes at Oakland’s Freedom Farmers’ Market

9 / 28 / 169 / 28 / 16

Oakland farmers markets, my friends and family are a few reasons why I love coming home. Now I’m adding a new market to my weekend lineup: the Freedom Farmers’ Market, offering produce from Black farmers and a community space celebrating traditional foods and healthy food access.

“Food can be poison and it can be medicine. Food is life, it’s love, it’s history,” said Dr. Gail Myers, the market director and co-founder of Farms To Grow, a non-profit dedicated to working with Black farmers and underserved sustainable farmers around the country. “Here you’ll find yellow wax beans, purple hull peas, collard greens, foods that you might not see at other markets that keep the traditions of African-American foods and connect people to their history, their community and a sense of positive identity.” You’ll also probably find hugs from Gail, who got up to greet almost every person that walked in.

At the heart of the market’s mission is the effort to make healthy, good food available and affordable in places where people typically don’t have access to it. But there are additional layers: economic stimulation for Black farmers, support for emerging Black farmers, and building culturally diverse farmers markets.

Freedom Farmers Market Oakland Temescal — Will Scott Jr and Dr. Gail Myers.

“If you asked someone a little while ago if there were any Black farmers in California, they would have said no way, because so many were and still are operating under the radar,” said Will Scott Jr, who owns Scott Family Farms and is president of the African American Farmers of California organization. “But things are changing slowly.”

“Farming for many African-Americans has an association with slavery,” he said, explaining that farming has carried negative connotations for many African Americans due to the legacies of slavery, sharecropping and discriminatory government policies (Black farmers were denied farm loans and assistance by the U.S. Department of Agriculture for decades). Will grew up in the fields, left to pursue an education, and after retiring from his job started farming full time (yep, at the age of 53). There about 500 Black-owned farms in California, and a big part of Will’s work is creating visibility and market opportunities for operating farms, while supporting the next generation of Black farmers.

So, what kind of food can you get at the Freedom Farmers’ Market?

Walking in you’ll find Charlotte who might fool you with her small table, but she’s got a serious stash of jams, butters, pickled goods, nuts, jellys, and beans (with cooking instructions “because you don’t want mush!”) I was tempted by the pickled okra and apple butter, but in the end walked away with a gold and black-speckled jar of kiwi jam.

Non-food vendors include jewelry and natural body products, and there’s a free library reading area. Mandela Foods Cooperative was there with snacks and there’s also donated bread from Arizmendi. Every week there’s a different activity like board games, pea shelling contests, live music or poetry.

There were three farms the day I went, all with a variety of produce. Raised Roots is a new farm run by Jamil Burns in Stockton, and from that stand I walked away with a perfect tear-drop shaped eggplant and a bunch of mizuna picked that morning. From R. Kelley Farms I grabbed a few yellow and purple peppers, and from Scott Family Farms, the last peaches of the season.

Freedom Farmers’ Market
Open Every Saturday July 9 – November 19
10:00 am – 3:00 pm
5316 Telegraph Ave, Oakland CA

Learn more about Farms to Grow here.

Oaxaca Raw: Mexican Food at the Mar Vista Farmers Market

9 / 23 / 16

I usually roll my eyes at anything advertised as raw food or vegan. Neither of those labels indicates that a meal will be balanced, healthy or taste good. In LA “healthy” food trends have arrived to the point of ground goji berries and activated cashews being considered a full meal. No mames.*

But of course I like eating raw vegetables, and sometimes I don’t feel like eating meat, so I appreciate finding unique options to eat that way on a hot day in LA. In this case, I found Oaxaca Raw Living Food at the Mar Vista farmers market. Oaxaca and raw foods don’t naturally align in my mind. Oaxaca is definitely the spot for food markets, and when I was there I bought all kinds of produce and ate tropical fruit every morning. But it’s more known for hearty, laborious dishes like mole that definitely happen over the stove. I was curious what Oaxaca Raw would mean.

Sergio is from Tlacolula, home to one of the Oaxaca central valley’s biggest outdoor markets. I’ve been twice and loved it. “It’s today in fact!” he reminded me on Sunday. After moving to LA he worked for years in raw food restaurants. He changed his diet, and liked the way it made him feel and look. Eventually, he decided to put his own spin on raw foods.

The menu is not necessarily more Oaxacan than it is Mexican inspired. There are nut and veggie tacos, a veggie burger made with seeds and nuts with tumeric jicama sticks on the side, and a few sweet cacao treats. I ordered the enchiladas, made with a flax seed & coconut tortilla and covered in a mild dried chile salsa with cashew cream. Inside it was filled with a mixture of nuts, raisins, green olives, parsley and lettuce. The tortilla was a little flimsy, but overall there was spice to balance the sweet, a nice crunch from the lettuce, and for the first time ever, I found an enchilada to be refreshing.

Oaxaca Raw products are sold at a few grocery stores in LA and at the Mar Vista farmers market every Sunday 9 am to 2 pm.

Peace and Barbacoa in Paracho: When a Guitar Town Goes for a World Record

7 / 22 / 167 / 31 / 16

A few weeks ago a town in Michoacán tried to do what only the city of Wroclaw, Poland had done before: Bring together 6,346 guitarists to break the Guinness World Book Record of largest guitar ensemble. People have been making guitars in Paracho for over a century, and there are at least 250 guitar artisans who have kept the tradition alive, still making guitars by hand. The small city is lined with guitar shops, but on the day we went most of the instruments were on the soccer field.

According to the group that organized the event, people from 18 different states (more than half of the country) registered to join. I saw families, punk rockers, mariachis, nuns, teenagers.

Three songs were played: Cielito Lindo, Flor de Canela, and Afuera by Caifanes. They practiced several times, a group of students on stage leading the crowd. Doug, my step-dad and the only gringo there decided to register and borrow a guitar, but he was too late and all the guitars were gone by the time we got in line. But a few minutes before the show a crew of staff in yellow shirts ran up to us. “We found one!”

Right now it’s hard to imagine a gathering with this diversity of people happening in the U.S., this peacefully, in the name of music and a common goal, even if it was a silly one. With all the anti-immigrant rhetoric in the news, I kept thinking that if just a fraction of this moment crossed the border into the states, we’d be a much more peaceful place.

In the end, we were a few thousand guitar players short. But, in what seemed like divine timing, the clouds held and only started to pour until after the last song.

Afterwards we escaped the rain and huddled at a counter in the Paracho market. While the stands are a uniform white with orange trim, the options range from carnitas to birria to tacos de cabeza. My parents like El Toro for barbacoa, the first guy when you walk into the center of the market.

He grabbed a mix of cuts, placed it on the cutting board, hacked it up, and then threw the pieces on a piece of wax paper in the scale. It was then mixed with a smokey, thick chile pasilla BBQ-like sauce that I couldn’t get enough of. A bucket of green tomatillo salsa sat on the side, a portion scooped out in a bowl for us.

We bought some warm blue corn tortillas from one of the ladies sitting next to her bucket in the market, and found a seat at one of the counters. The people eating next to us were wet from the rain, also grubbing hard, and humming the melody to Afuera just like I was.

Today in Paracho, where they make beautiful guitars, thousands of people from all over Mexico gathered to try and break the guinness world book record for largest guitar ensamble. I'm not sure they got to 6,346 guitars but it was still beautiful. #paracho #mexicomaravilloso #travelmexico #traveldeeper #michoacan #guitars #recordguinness

A post shared by Ferronlandia (@ferronlandia) on Jun 25, 2016 at 3:55pm PDT

Sampling Michoacan’s Soul Food in Patzcuaro

7 / 5 / 167 / 31 / 16

When I told friends in the U.S. and Mexico that I was going to Michoacán I got one of two responses: A warning or concern with the state’s reputation for narco activity, or “mmmm… que rico” which is Spanish for get ready to get your grub on. There’s a richness here in artesanía, agriculture, and cooking traditions— and just like Oaxaca or the Yucatan— a strong indigenous culture. But because of drug war violence in certain parts of the state Michoacán remains somewhat of a mystery to Americans. Most tourists just quickly pass through its capital city, Morelia— gorgeous, historic and buzzing with college students—on their way to a beach destination with watered-down margaritas.

Talk to anyone in Michoacán about their cuisine, and they’ll remind you that in 2010, when UNESCO designated “traditional Mexican cuisine” as an intangible cultural heritage, in other words, a cultural treasure worth preserving, it was Michoacán and in particular the Purepucha community, that was cited for maintaining the country’s culinary heritage. It’s even called the Michoacán Paradigm.

Michoacán has Pacific coast, hot valleys and mountains, creating a diversity of agricultural bounty. Here you can see pine trees next to mango trees. Avocado orchards hug highways, mezcal is more accessible than ever, and the fresh corn— blue, red, and yellow— always makes it to the table. In Patzcuaro, a Pueblo Magico about 7,000 feet above sea level on the southern edge of a silver lake, I got to sample some of the state’s classic dishes. Here are some of my favorites.

Corundas and Atole at La Basilica

Just when I thought I was sick of tamales, Michoacán proves me wrong. Corundas are pyramid shaped tamales wrapped in corn leaves (not the husks), stuffed with different things or sometimes not at all. At the first stand when approaching the Basilica de Nuestra Soledad de Salud, they’re made with rajas and a spongy cheese, covered in a salsa verde and crema. Atole is a warm corn-based drink that’s super filling, and here they have it with flavors of cinnamon, chocolate, and my favorite, guava. My parents have been coming to Angela’s stand for years, and while she’s still doing most of the prepping, her daughter Clara was working most days I was there. From sitting at the Christmas-themed oilcloth covered table you can see the lake, the air has a morning chill, and the food is warming.

Cuisine from the Tierra Caliente at La Tradición

Come here to sample maestra cocinera (master cook) Victoria Gonzalez Chavez’s hearty food from Michoacán’s Tierra Caliente. I went for comida, but they do breakfast as well. More on her and the restaurant here. Calle Arciga 18, across from the Basilica.

Sopa Tarasca and Enchiladas Placeras at La Surtidora

My usual rule in Mexico is to avoid eating at the restaurants on the plaza, as they are usually meant for tourists and are overpriced. But Patzcuaro’s plazas are meant for the people who live here, and this old restaurant on the plaza feels lived in— in a good way. Tequilas, chocolates, cigars and dark candles line the walls on cracked wood shelves. Like most of Patzcuaro, there’s a classic, dark, woody, maybe this used to be a convent kinda-feel with high ceilings and sepia lighting. Young people and families come here for a meal. This is a great place to try some regional classics like sopa tarasca. Sometimes made with beans and sometimes not, the creamy soup is made with tomatoes and Oaxacan cheese, crunchy tortilla strips, and pops of lightly fried chile pasilla. Learn more about it here. Enchiladas placeras, a local version of enchiladas with potatoes, carrots and queso fresco on top are also good here.

Pollos Asado al Pastor Maurilio

I know you love al pastor tacos, but do you love pollo al pastor? How about costillas, chorizo or lamb al pastor? A humble staple of the area, here whole chickens and ribs are scarecrowed on wood sticks that surround a bed of charcoal. The meats cook slowly, with a team of guys moving the sticks around until they’re done on all sides, then cut up and covered with the juice of a freshly cut orange and sprinkled with salt. The sides make the meal complete, with three salsas (including an interesting sour orange and diced onion salsa), soupy pinto beans, and fresh tortillas. Towards the muelle, on the inside corner at the end of Lazaro Cardenas where it turns into the Morelia highway, directly across from the Pemex.

Mezcal at El Carajo

Green Christmas lights, only five tables, knickknacks on the walls, a kind bartender, and a guitarist singing La Llorona are pretty much all the things I want in a mezcal bar. At Patzcuaro’s only mezcaleria two kinds of fruit covered in chile and lime arrive at your table with mezcal. There’s no menu, so just ask for a recommendation. My first night the smell of the guava filled the air as Omar, the bartender brought over different shots from Guerrero and Michoacán. When we spilled a cup he scooped it up with his hands and rubbed his shaved head and beard with it. “Good for the hair.” Luis, the guitarist used to be a photographer until people stopped using film, and he fell behind technology. You’ll make interesting friends here.

Nieve at Plaza Grande

Patzcuaro is known for its nieve (ice cream), made here in the same style for over a century. Head to the plaza grande to sample from the outside ice cream stands. Pasta is the traditional flavor made with almonds, dried fruit and different milks, but I liked the cajeta, coffee and mango the best. You’ll see the stands at the Plaza Vasco de Quiroga, in front of La Surtidora.

Everything at the Market

I always get the same feeling arriving to a new market in Mexico: a little anxious, my guard creeping up ready to face a crowd, and my stomach suddenly signaling hunger with the smell of street food. The Patzcuaro market is mostly a maze of narrow alleys covered with tarps. Inside are non-food goods: clothes, huaraches, wood spoons, woven baskets and a bright pink barber shop. This was the beginning of the rainy season so outside passion fruit and small criollo mangos were on their way out, big bright squash blossoms, shiny light green squash, and bags of fluffy white mushrooms recently arrived.

On Tuesdays and Fridays outside in the basketball court there’s an actual swap meet, where people come from the surrounding areas to trade anything from used shoes to houseplants. Also on those days is when you can find Señora Clara, an elderly woman who brings fruit tamales from her hometown. On that day we bought three wild blackberry tamales for 10 pesos. Her kids gather the blackberries for her, and she makes the masa, which is so soft it’s like spooning out pudding from a stained-purple tamale husk.

Note: My last day in Patzcuaro I went to the new Centro de Interpretación, the coolest museum I’ve ever visited, and the best introduction to any place a museum could offer. As an example, we took a seat at a dinner table where several projectors showed different regional dishes, and by pressing arrows we got the recipe, a guide to ingredients, and sorting even further, a map and directory of the Cocineras Tradicionales (designated traditional cooks). Had I done this my first day I would have gone down the list for the rest of the trip, so make this your first stop.