Hmph! The New York Times is Digging Oakland

It might be expected that the New York Times would pick up on such high profile stories as the murder of Oscar Grant on New Year’s Day 2009, or the murder of four Oakland police officers in March.  But Oakland the tourist destination for Times readers?  I have to admit it was a bit unexpected.  About a month ago the Times published “36 Hours in Oakland California,” which sells Oakland as a sort of multi-culti-city-of-the-future-hidden-gem-artists’ haven.  Since then there has been a relative spate of Oakland-based reporting in the times that might challenge the old Gertrude Stein adage that “there is no there there.”

“36 Hours in Oakland California,” gives New Yorkers some great tips such as the Grand Lake Theater–my hands-down favorite place to see a movie by myself (or with anyone else for that matter), the Washington Hotel (my mother’s personal favorite hideaway),  and the Morcom Rose Garden, which truly is a hidden gem.

Grand Lake’s Auditorium 3 (picture from their website)

Marcom Rose Garden, photo by Eros Hoagland for The New York Times

Then, just a few days ago, the Times gave us the popular “Neighbor, Can You Spare a Plum?” about fruit foraging, beginning with a profile of Asiya Wadud, a Chez Panisse alum who pioneered Forage Oakland, an organization/movement aimed at viewing urban fruit as collective wealth, with potential for community building.  While Wadud and Forage Oakland seem laudable, the Times article leaves a lot to be desired.  If anything it brought on the painful memory of someone harvesting my “collective wealth”–the roses in my front yard, by simply lopping off the top of all the bushes–and convinced me not to plant that plum tree in front of my house.  All fruit isn’t everyone’s fruit–the law and I believe Wadud agrees–but Kim Severson, the author of the article, glosses over this point a little too much for my taste.  What would Randy Cohen say???

Asiya Wadud by Noah Berger for The New York Times

But no need to get too serious, Oakland knows how to party, the Times’ bastion of style T Magazine reminded us yesterday, June 10, 2009 on their blog “The Moment.”  What is a forlorn Williamsburg hipster refugee to do after the Sonic Youth show at the Fox Theater?  The Moment says hit Cafe Van Kleef!  The Moment’s description of the place hits the nail on the head.  Van Kleef is kind of Brooklyn meets Nawlins meets Oakland–in decor if nothing else–and they do pour excellent cocktails (they often have great fresh fruit involved) but overall the place is a little to Park Slope c. 2002 for me with their earnest burlesque and cabaret, but maybe they Williamsburg kids will come and shake it up (they do serve some purpose you know).

What the Times obviously needs is a little dose of good ole Rockridge style soothing…and I’m working on it.  In the mean time, you can consider co-housing opportunities in the Temescal neighborhood, or just keep track of Oakland news by setting up a Google news alert here.

A Dangerous Link

Harvey Clars is a small auction house just a hope skip and a jump from Rockridge on Telegraph underneath the 24 (the fact that I call it the 24 as opposed to “24” reveals my Southern California roots apparently).  I’ve heard that one can cultivate a serious addiction between the random, “fun,” and odd items in their catalogs and the extremely low prices.   Honestly I’m a little scared to step foot in the place lest I succumb to the addiction and turn my house in the Rockridge version of the Winchester Mystery House stocked with memorabilia from Clars, but I may not be able to resist the temptation of the spectacle much longer.  What’s catching my eye in this weekend’s catalog (buyers beware!):

Lot 15: Marotte Folie German bisque head doll

Marotte Folie German bisque head and shoulder plate with a curly blonde wig and hand-painted features with fixed blue paperweight eyes, and an open mouth revealing four teeth, the head sitting atop a music box concealed within a drum shaped torso on a celluloid handle that also serves as a whistle, dressed in a jester’s costume, impressed 3200 AM (Armand Marseille) 12/0 DEP, with origninal box, 11” to hat

Pretty psychotic looking I know, but there’s something about the combination of heavy eyebrows, big earrings, and prominent chompers that makes this girl my totem and taboo all rolled into one.  You must read the description carefully–the celluloid handle also serves as a whistle!

Lot 106: Chinese Underglazed Blue Porcelain Vases/Lamps

(lot of 2) Chinese blue-and-white porcelain vases, now mounted as lamps, the first encircled by stiff leaves to the neck, with the body further decorated with stylized patterns on a leiwen ground, vase 17.75”h; the other painted with mock animal head handles to the neck above dissolving archaistic mythical beasts, vase: 17.5”h

There is only one bedside lamp in I.’s and my marital bedroom.  A year and a half later we are still married, but two moderately matching bedside lamps would be a welcome addition to the family.

Lot 519: Multi-tiered, sectional circular bookshelf

Mahogany multi-tiered, sectional circular bookshelf having shaped finial, faux classic literary selection dividers, rotating top, with lion bask ring pull handles and paw feet, 66”h x 34”d

Either so wrong it’s right or simply wrong wrong wrong!  I’m still fascinated by it either way.  I can’t imagine where in the world it would go, either in my home or any other, but the fact that Clars has it has me tickled.  The strange lion’s head at the base–is that a door knocker?  Is this bookcase in actuality a vortex to another world?  Will C.S. Lewis meet me on the other side with a tray of Turkish Delight?

Happy bidding!

Things that Soothe: Apartment Therapy (I know)

Honestly, I’ve never really gotten into Apartment Therapy.  Like many sites that I want to LOVE, it’s just a little too Real Simple-y for me sometimes.  But I decided to check out the SF site today and it’s soothing the hell out of me.  Especially these posts:

• Urban Indigo-a seriously soothing Oakland boutique in the Grand Lake neighborhood
• Black Flowers-who doesn’t love them?  Apparently “gotard”
• Garden Inspired Interiors-not great examples all of them, but that lead image is enough to make it one of my faves:

Here is an arrangement featuring my favorite “black” flower: chocolate cosmos (and two of my other favorite flowers muscari and hellebore).

Discovered at Southern Accents, arrangement by Greg Campbell of Memphis

Upping the Ante in Oakland–but No One’s Calling

This week’s East Bay Express contains an examination of some of the “new Oakland;” the real estate development known as the Uptown.  Unfortunately for lawmakers and current residents, the Uptown isn’t drawing new blood to Oakland in spite of LEED certification, “a 24-hour concierge, a state-of-the-art gym, access to Zipcar service, a game room, pool and spa, an on-site Oakland Police Department office, a chef’s kitchen, and a private screening room, all available with a lease.”  Click here to read the full article and reader’s comments.  

I happened to visit the Uptown myself recently.  The lack of rentals certainly isn’t for lack of landscaping.  The Uptown’s “town square” features red bud (cercis canadensis) and tons of wisteria.  The wisteria is young still and will take forever to mature, but I love the effort.  Check it out:

Where the wisteria will grow

young wisteria

A row of red bud

Red bud up close, the Uptown in the distance

Farmer’s Market Ranunculus

Soother1978 and I went to the Temescal Farmer’s Market at the Oakland DMV this morning with a mission for beautiful, full, even FAT ranunculus.

We got three bunches for $10.  I got to use my new basket/vase for the first time!  Here are the results:

It’s still early in the season so the ranuncs aren’t AS fat as I like them, but they’ll get there.

Soother1978 soothed himself with a fried chicken sandwich from Bakesale Betty’s while we were in the area.  We love the sandwiches, but we discussed the inherent unsoothingness of places with a single, great thing that everyone has to cue up for–the Magnolia Bakery vibe–great products but so much hype!  Hype doesn’t soothe.  And Oakland, as much as I love it, has that small-town vibe where there’s always a line for anything good because there isn’t enough competition (think Ici and Blue Bottle Coffee).  Bring your business to Oakland!  If you build it we will spend!  We need a Blue Barn to soothe in the East Bay!

No Green Guilt and No Traveling and Scavenging for “Local” Food

This looks potentially soothing:

Your own private mini-field of crops!

Feast Bay Farming

Imagine looking out of your window looking at a thriving food forest, an environmentally friendly landscape. This what Feast Bay Farming is committed to offer the residents of Alameda county.

I already have a small patch of my own, but managing and optimizing a home kitchen garden is no simple task.  I’ve worked at it, and consulted such sources as the beautifully illustrated and highly-specific Self-Sufficient Gardener by John Seymour, but to do it well takes more man hours than my full time graduate school/work schedule allows.  As it stands now, my little raised bed has gone to seed.  

If I get lucky (and a spare hour or two one of these weeks) I’m hoping to consult with FBF to turn my little plot into the local feast of Michael Pollan’s dreams.  My dream crop: escarole. 

Related:

• Tricycle Gardens in Richmond, Virginia
• Oberle Botanical in Fort Collins, Colorado
• Forsyth Gardens in Philadelphia
• Homegrown in Los Angeles

Trip to Koreana Plaza in Pictures

 

Every type of fish-, soya-, and seaweed-based product pre-pickled and packed for take-home

In bulk

These objects are smaller than they appear

Who knew that Koreans were such fans of Armenian Brandy?  Or that it came in such fun containers? (cork is at the derriere)

Koreana Plaza, 2370 Telegraph Ave at 24th Street in Oakland, 94612

Korean Barbeque Lovers

I grew up eating meals in the kitchens of my Korean friends and frequenting Woo Lae Oak for birthday parties and Father’s Day (that would be the original Woo Lae Oak on Western and Wilshire thank you very much–none of this BH/Soho b.s.).  

When I moved to Oakland in 2006 I was happy to find an abundance of Korean barbeque in the city.  The first one I ever visited (and a favorite to this day) was Sahn Maru.  It’s kind of like eating at your Korean grandmother’s house.  Great seafood pancake, amazing spicy pork bulgogi (perhaps my favorite ever), and kind service.  No barbeque-ing at the tables there though, and frankly, I don’t miss it.  Who needs to get all smoky and pay to cook their own dinner?  Not I.

The humble decor isn’t the draw here, but it’s comfy.  And anyway, the price of upscale decor in Korean restaurants often amounts to being forced to listen to house music or mid-90’s “down-tempo” grooves for your entire meal. 

Another favorite is Ohgane.  Newer, sleeker, and larger than Sahn Maru, I find Ohgane to be a nice place to go just to mix things up a little.  It’s also a bit livelier than Sahn Maru if you’re looking for more of a night-out-on-the-town type place.  I love the thinly sliced radish they bring with the lettuce leaves here. 

Finally there is Jong Ga House.  Before it was A Rockridge Life, it was a Grand Lake Life, and Jong Ga was right around the corner.  This place has funky decor and a bar, which up the kitsch factor.  My favorite part of Jong Ga is the cold and spicy noodle soup offered gratis while you wait for your order.  

I’m trying to get up the nerve to bring the bulgogi home tonight and make my own.  I’ve looked at a few recipes, and it doesn’t look too hard, though I don’t know how close I’ll get in terms of authenticity.  Here are three recipes I’m considering. 

• Bulgogi (Chow)
• Bulgogi (by Chef John J. Nihoff, The Culinary Institute of America via Epicurious.com)
• Bulgogi (by Hyungshin Songvia via Food Network)

T.G.I.F. Part II

After the wardrobe issue was cleared up, Mrs. B and I went for a drive through Oakland.  She was a licensed driver up until a few months ago, and losing her freedom of transportation has been rough.  Given that she had been cooped up in her house stressing all week I convinced her to let me take her out for a drive.  

Our first stop was Fenton’s on Piedmont Avenue.

Mrs. B and I decided that since her problem was losing weight and mine was gaining weight that she would get a vanilla ice cream cone and I would get a diet coke.  Deal.

Then we drove down Pleasant Valley Road, over the hill to Lakeshore Drive, and all the way around Grand Lake.  Mrs. B told me stories of what Oakland was like when she moved here in the 40s and how much it had changed.  She noted each church we passed, and of the Baptist ones which ones she and her church, which is in East Oakland, associate with.

We drove across town on MacArther and up Telegraph.  We were on our way to the Colonel’s, (as both my father and Mrs. B refer to Kentucky Fried Chicken, the old fashioned way).  Mrs. B likes to indulge in dinner from the Colonel when she’s not feeling too well.  She only likes the chicken at the location on Telegraph in the 60s, they make the best chicken there, and she only likes thighs.  No coleslaw, her teeth can’t handle it.  Mashed potatoes, yes.

We were passing Bakesale Betty’s on the corner of 51st when Mrs. B remarked that she had always wanted to try their chicken. Mrs. B and her daughter had noticed the line out the door at midday and loved the concept of the ironing board tables (they thought, “hey, we can open a business with ironing boards for tables!” and rightly so).

The line out the door

The ironing board “tables”

We stopped and got Mrs. B a sandwich.  I had reservations about doing so.  Bakesale Betty isn’t authentic when talking fried chicken with a ninety-three year old African American lady who moved to Oakland in the 40s from New Orleans.  But Mrs. B said, “hey! I like trying new things at my age too!” So I got her the sandwich and we drove home.

I told Mrs. B to call me later and let me know her thoughts on the sandwich.  I got a call around 6:30PM:

“Hi Darlin!” Hi Mrs. B! How do you like your sandwich? “Well you know, I don’t like breasts. I only like thighs. I know Mrs. B, I’m sorry, they only make breasts there. Well I only like thighs but I’m eating it and enjoying it! I’m sorry Mrs. B! “Don’t worry about it Darlin! I appreciate you! Call me when you wake up in the morning. OK, talk to you in the morning Mrs. B.

T.G.I.F. Part I

Last week was a long, hard one for me, so when I was done teaching on Friday I felt less exuberant than worn down, worn out, and worn left and right.  I thought I had to do something for me.  

I got home and remembered I had to go next door to Mrs. B’s to pick up my ticket for her big church event on Saturday: the church’s 65th anniversary celebration.  Mrs. B is my ninety-three year old next door neighbor.  

When I got over to Mrs. B’s I found her in quite a state.  She is highly functional, both physically and mentally, for her age but she was in a state.  She has been REALLY worried about the event on Saturday.  There had been some confusion regarding the tickets and the seating arrangement at her table, and though it’s illogical, Mrs. B was so stressed out she hadn’t barely slept all week.  

I had promised Mrs. B that I would bring over the dress I planned to wear so that she could approve it.  She wanted someone to talk to about clothing since her daughter who would usually come up from Stockton and spend the night before an event like this had to stay home for an event in Stockton on Friday.  I was planning on wearing a vintage Carolina Herrera dress: black with a white upper bodice and big collar.  Very Audrey Hepburn, Breakfast at Tiffany’s kind of a vibe.  A nice column design, with the collar for flare and a hem that hits below the knee–how could I go wrong?  I had originally bought the dress to become a godmother, and I thought it was perfect.  

When I brought it to Mrs. B she said “do you have anything with longer sleeves?  It’s semi-formal, but you don’t have to dress that fancy.”  I told her no problem and ran home to get something else.  Thank goodness I had the sense seek her approval.

I brought over a cream colored long-sleeved silk blouse and a black skirt.  She said, “do you have anything…[long pause] with more color?”  Mrs. B was planning to wear a red suit.  Now, being the faux-New Yorker that I am, my wardrobe is mostly made up of black, with a splash of gray, navy blue, and cream thrown in for good measure.  I own a pair of hot pink Fendi flats but that’s about it.  So I said, “maybe I could wear a suit?”  This seemed to meet with approval.  I told Mrs. B that the only skirt suit (knowing that pants were NOT OK) I owned was cotton, and therefore less formal.  She said that was OK and told me to go get the suit.

The navy blue cotton suit it was.  Mrs. B approved, and reminded me to wear hose.  (I hate hose, don’t own “hose” and only ever occasionally wear opaque black tights).  

Wardrobe: check.

Note to self: channelling a high-class hooker character when making wardrobe choices may fly in the Episcopal church but has no place, however iconic, in a Southern Baptist church’s 65th anniversary celebration.  As Mrs. B’s granddaughter (who is a good decade older than me) would tell me the following day, “it’s a cultural thing.” 

This was more the look of the day: