Breakfast and Lunch with a Singaporean Twist at Dripline in Oakland

4 / 19 / 174 / 19 / 17

It’s my personal breakfast philosophy that a good barometer of a breakfast joint is the most basic thing on the menu, eggs and toast. If an egg isn’t cooked properly and if the bread sucks (practically a crime in the Bay Area), I probably won’t be back to try anything else. But if the eggs and toast is like something I’ve never had before, well, I might just make it my regular joint.

At Dripline, a new café in west Oakland, that basic dish was the Kaya Toast. Kaya means rich in Malay, an accurate word for a coconut jam made from coconut milk, eggs and sugar. The dish required that I spread pandan infused coconut butter on house brioche, and dip it into coddled egg with soy sauce and chives. It’s the kind of meal straight out of the comfort food memories of a chef, that has the power to recall the eater’s own food memories. In this case, Chef Nora Dunning’s toast and kaya in Singapore, and mine at grandma’s house: matzo leftover from Passover, smoothed over with a pat of margarine, covered in cinnamon-sugar mix.

The rest of the food here is a similar expression of Chef Nora’s Singaporean roots and California sensibilities. Classic East Asian staples are made with vegetables from City Slicker farms and the farmers market, tofu from Hodo Soy, and the serious chops of a woman once the Head Kitchen Manager and Culinary Operations Manager for Blue Bottle. Pottery comes from Jered’s Pottery in Richmond, and the black handleless mugs immediately made me want to order something warm to drink.

The other night I was invited to try several dishes on the menu and a few in line to be added. They are open for breakfast and lunch, with pastries, Four Barrel coffee and a few grab-and-god.

My favorite was something yet to make it on the menu: Laksa, a wide-noodle dish in a curry fragrant with ginger, lemongrass, shallots, cumin and coriander, nicely textured with herbs, microgreens, and Santa Rosa-made tempeh.

The peanut sambal, a peanut chile paste which varies from country to country usually depending on the level of coriander, appears in many forms, as a base for the dramatically California-ized Gado Gado and again for the sambal shrimp with hearty coconut grits— a reflection of Nora’s husband’s southern roots. The baked goods here—chocolate chip cookies, pop tarts, cakes and breads— also shouldn’t be missed. Everything is done in house.

Dripline is a concept from Josh Larson and Carrie Shores, architects with a firm upstairs. The couple met Nora when working on Monkey Forest Road together, and she completed the team by bringing her stellar kitchen team of immigrant women with her to Dripline. I’m sure the cafe’s architecture references concepts over my head— to me it’s a light, minimalist space, with clean tile lines, pale wood and pops of yellow furniture. It doesn’t feel like a place that begs you to lounge, but it’s a place that will bring me back for much more than eggs and toast.

Update: looks like you can now find kaya on the menu with the Kaya Waffle. Sounds better than toast.

www.driplineoakland.com

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.

Tamales Acapulco and the Original Community Organizers Behind Oakland Street Food

2 / 18 / 17

You can’t miss the street food vendors on the sidewalk on International Blvd in Fruitvale. The fruit carts with peeled and cubed tropical fruits stacked in neat quart containers that go out to customers with a squeeze of lime and chile. There are tamales, wrapped in corn husks or banana leaves, warm drinks with chocolate, corn and cinnamon, pupusas and bacon wrapped hot dogs on the weekends. While these street vendors seem like an integral part of Fruitvale, many people don’t know about the journey it took for them to be there.

Tamales Acapulco is one of those vendors, tucked behind the parking lot of El Charro Market on Fruitvale Ave and E 15th. The owner, Teresa Mondragon, was among the first group of street food vendors here some 18 years ago. It was her cohort of about 25 vendors, lead by a fierce organizer still working in the community that legalized street vending in the area, setting a foundation for mobile food legislation for the city at large.

“I used to make and sell street food in Mexico, so when I first came here I immediately started doing that and there was no one else selling tamales on the street at that time,” said Señora Tere. “We would sell them out of a Lucky’s shopping cart, and we were always a little scared because we were doing it illegally.”

Emilia Otero, now owner of commercial kitchen La Placita, was approached by some of the first vendors asking for help with legalizing their businesses. A community organizer who had recently moved from LA to be with her grown daughter in Oakland, the need resonated with her— not just to help protect vendors, but to bring healthier food options into the community (like fruit carts).

“This group, they were amazing, if I gave them 24 hours notice they dropped everything. I would have meetings with lawyers, a nutritional group in Berkeley or city hall and they would always be there,” she said.

Emilia Otero with a photo of the first association of street food vendors in Fruitvale.

The group formed the first street vendors association here, and eventually worked with local politicians and the health department to legalize vendors in certain parts of East Oakland in 2001. It was one of the first municipal ordinances on street food vending in the country. Otero then took on infrastructure challenges, like renting a commercial kitchen and providing business guidance. She bypassed $9,000 quotes from California factories and on a trip to Mexico convinced the Governor of Jalisco to help her build Mexican-made pushcarts for an affordable price (of $500). She still organizes for mobile food legislation, helps vendors with their businesses and operates the commercial kitchen La Placita, which supports vendors from all different backgrounds who sell in and outside of Fruitvale.

“My goal was to legalize these businesses, but my dream was to expand these types of businesses. Because you can help so many people, you can bring them out of poverty, and it can work in any country in the world,” said Otero.

The city’s policy on mobile food vending has slowly evolved but been largely restrictive, murky, and cost-prohibitive. Certain districts allow vendors on private property, but outside of that area vendors are greatly restricted on where they are allowed to sell, the hours, and to operating alongside other vendors, forming what are called “pods.” This month there is a City Council hearing scheduled to review a new comprehensive mobile food vending program that should provide more opportunities for vendors (and more options for eaters!) At the last hearing business owners lined up to share how their mobile businesses allowed them to create jobs, put their kids through college, and share their food cultures.

To experience a good tamal, head to Tamales Acapulco. Señora Tere said the children of some of her first clients are still regulars and it’s these customer relationships that have sustained her business for almost two decades. She offers a Guatemalan tamal wrapped in banana leaf with a much softer masa, and Mexican tamales wrapped in corn husks. There is a vegetarian version with cheese and rajas, chicken, and I love the pork made with a salsa roja. She also offers pupusas, tortas, warm drinks like atole and champurrado, and is planning to start making breakfast tacos with freshly made tortillas soon. Best to go in the morning, as tamales tend to run out by the afternoon.

Four Juice Bars in Oakland

1 / 2 / 17

Juices, smoothies, acai bowls and chia puddings, non-dairy warm drinks… We are on trend in Oakland and thankfully it’s without the activated $12 charcoal waters and bullshit anti-food health diets. Here are a few places in Oakland owned by people of color offering nutrients in a cup for an accessible price.

Super Juiced, Old Oakland

Adding another destination to Swan’s Market, Super Juiced is everything I want in a juice bar and a business. They use all organic produce and buy from local farms, keep prices accessible, and are committed to hiring locally, with a special focus on system-impacted young folks, who receive leadership development training. Neon pink accents brighten the store and shelves have a sweet selection of body, home and packaged food products to take home. The menu has seasonal juices, tonic shots, smoothies, a vanilla coconut chia pudding and acai bowl. I had the golden glow juice with persimmon, apple, turmeric and nutmeg, which tasted like Fall. They also have warm non-dairy drinks like their golden milk made with turmeric, spices, coconut and house made almond milk, and the hot coco choco with coconut milk, raw cacao, maple syrup, vanilla and himalayan pink salt. To start off 2017 they’ll be offering cleanses for digestion, immunity boosts, and revitalization. Prices range from $4 to $9.50.

Main Squeeze, Grand Lake

These guys are best known for their acai bowls, a traditional snack in Instagram, woops I mean Brazil. They have a pretty fruity smoothie menu, and a varied juice menu with organic produce, a seasonal juice, and lots of enhancers like tumeric, chia, and flax. I like the Orange you Glad with apple, carrot, celery, ginger, lemon, pear, and turmeric. A perfect place to hit before or after walking the lake, and often busy on those sunny weekend days. Prices run $5 to $8.

Taqueria San Jose, Fruitvale

Located right on International and 35th, this little cafe window next to Taqueria San Jose offers coffee and breakfast staples, as well as freshly made juices. They have a few fruit combos and a green juice which has pineapple, ginger, parsley, celery, nopal, and cucumber. It feels a little like Mexico here: the window is bordered in talavera tiles, there’s a sunny patio with a running fountain in back, and a sad display of Bimbo donas and snacks at the counter. The guy ordering before me said he always gets a large orange juice with two raw eggs blended, and while I was a little curious, I went for the green juice. $5 for a small.

Nieves Cinco de Mayo, Fruitvale

Doesn’t nieves mean ice cream? Yes, and right across from the ice cream stand is a small cafe offering Oakland-roasted Bicycle coffee, sandwiches and juices. I’ve written about the owner’s street cart to brick and mortar success before here (it’s an inspiring story). I love the juice and smoothie menu: you get to choose up to five ingredients from the fruit, veggie, and supplement list and design your own. If you aren’t confident about making your own combos ask for recommendations or start with something simple like carrot, orange and ginger. I usually get some variation of a vampiro: beet, carrot, pineapple, and orange. $4 for a small, $5 for a medium, $6 for a large.

Obelisco in Fruitvale: Leticia Chavez channels comfort foods from life on the ranch

12 / 12 / 16

This past week has been a sad one for Oakland and I’ve been craving comfort food. The other day inside Berkeley Bowl I even paused in the bulk aisle when overcome by a craving for mashed potatoes, with a butter pat on top and freshly cracked pepper like something I never eat and definitely out of a Sizzler’s commercial. But mostly comfort food is the food made by my friends and family: biscuits (aunt Pat’s are the best), my sister’s pesto— always a trusty side to our fresh crab or roast chicken, my boyfriend’s breakfasts emerging from the oven to temper my hangover. Obelisco’s pozole is always something I think of in cold or gloomy times, but until last week I hadn’t actually met the chef and owner.

Her name is Leticia Chavez, she’s funny, warm and has held down this Fruitvale restaurant for almost ten years now. Leticia is from the Puerto Vallarta area, and she grew up working in her family’s restaurant and eating food straight from el rancho.

“I was raised in a small place and my dad had a ranch, so the quality of the ingredients were always good. The first time I tried a hamburger in the United States…” she made a face and waved her hand as if avoiding a bad smell.

After arriving to the Bay she actually opened a skincare business, but was called back to cooking by her disappointment with the variety of Mexican food in the area. “I kept hearing people talk about how greasy and unhealthy Mexican food is,” she said. “A lot of people here never travel to Mexico, so they image our cuisine as limited to tacos and burritos. But Mexican food can be diverse, and there’s a wide range of cuisine from one part of the country to the other.”

So she opened her own place in 2007, sourcing Niman Ranch meats and Mary’s organic chicken, and organic corn which is sent to a mill in San Leandro just for her masa. The handmade tortillas are a warm yellow and thick. Not all her other ingredients are organic due to cost constraints.

My favorite on the menu is the pozole, which is available in red, green and white. (You can read more about it in this story I wrote a while ago for SFWeekly). The white, which can be brightened with a fiery side of habanero chile, is emblematic of Leticia’s food. “It doesn’t always have to be spicy,” she said. “I like cooking with just enough so people can taste all the flavors and add more if they want.”

Besides the pozole, the albondigas (a stew with meatballs), is straight from her mom’s recipe collection (“that’s a mom dish for sure,” I said and we both giggled). And while there are daily specials, the secret is to come on Wednesdays when she always makes something different, usually regional dishes like pipian, moles, borrego, or barbacoa. There’s beer on draft, agua frescas, and usually a dairy free coconut flan.

Leticia says in 2017 there will be a new dinner menu, and I expect there to be some comfort dishes on that menu too.

http://www.obeliscorestaurant.com
(BTW for those of you who have been around, Obelisco was previously named Taco Grill and located on the other side of the Fruitvale Village.)