Flavor Boulevard

You know a radio station is worth listening to when it mentions the holidays of other cultures. It shows not only respect but a positive attitude: there should not be only bad news, and there should not be only news about Americans. Mudpie found out from KQED that today the MLK Civic Center Park in Berkeley was hosting the Enkutatash festival, the first day of Ethiopian New Year which usually marks the end of three months of heavy rain in Ethiopia. According to their calendar, the year 2003 will start next Saturday, September 11. But there’s no harm in having good food and fun a week earlier, especially when we have the long Labor Day weekend to stretch our legs. 🙂

We arrived perhaps a little early, although it was an hour after the announced starting time. Most of the food tents (i.e. three out of four) were still setting up, the only one ready was selling ice cream (or was it sorbet?). In fact, an hour later as we were leaving, two of the four food tents were still in the preparing stage. Perhaps the Ethiopians eat lunch late.

I’ve never had Ethiopian food, but I was looking forward to using bread to scoop meat and rice from a bread bowl – the efficient utensil-less meal described by the experienced Mudpie. Unfortunately, the most bread I could get was a glimpse of the injera (Ethiopian flat bread) stacked up on the side and balls of white dough waiting to be cooked.

Luckily the chicken skewers were a few minutes away from being done and the fried plantain was ready to be scooped into plastic bowls.

When I saw that a side order of ginger fried plantain cost 7 bucks, I thought that’s quite some pricy greased bananas. Then I saw the guy keep on scooping and for the first time in my life eating festival foods, I uttered “That’s a LOT!”.

It was no joking side order. The bowl must contain at least three plantains (unless they are plantain giants), and the two of us just could NOT finish it. The pieces were irregular, the edges were crisply burnt and the innard was gooey sweet, perhaps a little too oily and too ripe. This fried plantain didn’t strike me as amazing as the salty fried plantain from Soleil’s African Kitchen, but if you like a light gingery note, it’s pretty good.

And the grilled chicken was better.

$8 a skewer, lots of juicy meat flavored Mediterranean-like. Would get seconds and thirds if not short on cash.

Next year, if you wanna come and plan on eating kitfo, come at least 2 hours after the starting time and look around at the clothing and jewelry tents, they have some very nice looking dresses in green, yellow, and red. Or look at the wooden statues. Or get some henna tattoos. After you’re done shopping, the food might just be ready on time.

Melkam Addis Amet! Happy Enkutatash!

Not barbecue.

That stuff is everywhere in the South. I’m talking about something that only Texas has. Something a little sweet, a little pillowy, a little chewy, a little cheesy, a little meaty. Something that after you eat one, you just have to get another. Something that 99.91% of the time is chosen over donuts (I made up the stats, but I’ve never met anyone who picks a donut when they’re given this). My Texas friends, I miss the kolaches.

If you haven’t had it, you’re gonna say “That’s a pig-in-the-blanket, Whole Foods has loads.” No, it is far from a pig-in-the-blanket. I repeat, kolaches is NOT pig-in-the-blanket (PitB).

The difference is in the bread. PitB bread is plain, flare it up with poppy seeds and oily butter or not, it’s plain and must not be eaten without the sausage. Kolaches bread is sweet, like a Hawaiian roll*. PitB bread is dry and flaky. Kolaches bread is pillowy, slightly chewy and moist. The sausage is there for protein surplus and does not really add fireworks to the flavor. If you insist on an either-or, I’d choose the bread and toss the sausage every time. Donut shops in Houston would ask if you want the kind with cheese, say yes. The very thin inner lining of cheese makes its salty-sweet.

Then you’re gonna laugh at me and try to crumble my Texan pride, “It’s a Czech thing, not a Texas thing” and tell me to read Wikipedia.  Well, look again, the Czech kolache (pronounced |koh-lash|) is a sweet pastry with fruit jam on top. The Texan kolaches (pronounced |koh-lah-chee|) is savory with a little sausage link inside. The Texas kolaches isn’t any more Czech than the hamburger is from Hamburg.

Originally, it is a variety of the Czech kolache, referred to as “klobasnek” or “klobasnik,” which comes from “klobasek,” Czech for “sausage,” similar to “kielbasa“. But the Czechs consider the Texas kolaches a joke too far removed from their fruit-topped dessert pastries, for it has cheap cocktail sausage links instead of the huge Polish dogs. The misnomer “kolache” is perhaps due to the Houstonian Kolache Factory‘s successful advertisement of this savory breakfast on the go.

Black sheep to the Czechs or not, the Texas kolaches are extremely popular in Texas. Most donut shops have them, usually twice or three times more expensive than donuts, and all are sold out before noon. Sometimes 9 am. No kolaches left behind.

But you won’t be able to find it outside the Lone Star State. You probably will not even hear about it outside the Lone Star State. People just will not know what you’re talking about when you say “kolaches” (pronounced |koh-lah-chee|), unless they’re from Texas. Believe me, I asked my students here, in Berkeley-San Francisco, they gave me the confused eyes and directed me to Whole Foods for pigs-in-the-blanket. I’ve searched every donut shop in town, no luck. I’ve used Google Maps, AM Kolaches in Hayward is the only hit, but it’s the Czech version with fruits and cream cheese.

O Texas Kolaches, how I miss thee!

*Notes on the Hawaiian rolls: Get them! They make awesome sandwiches. Or spread pâté in the middle.

Last weekend we went to the annual Eat Real Festival in Oakland. They had it for three days, we went two. And we still couldn’t stuff everything down. The idea is to show that real, good food can be affordable like fast food. The reality is no matter how small each portion was, we ended up walking slow.

Some things were delicious. Like the Korean BBQ tacos from Seoul On Wheels. Ebony loved the chicken, Mudpie swooned about the spicy pork, I adored the bulgogi, all served on a corn tortilla with some lipsmacking sauce for $3. Follow their tweets to know their locations.

Near Seoul On Wheels were Curry Up Now and a Whole Foods‘ truck. Mudpie just couldn’t resist a chicken tikka masala burrito ($5), then drank a whole bottle of water afterwards. I was enticed by the hiramasa (hamachi) ceviche and grilled figs from Whole Foods, $3 each, served in a cone with tortilla chips for dipping.

The ceviche is on the right. It had cubes of hiramasa fish marinated in lime juice, vegetable and spices. The texture utterly resembled boiled fatty pork, so refreshing in a sunny afternoon. This was also my first time having a whole fig. It’s sweet and gummy, pretty similar to prunes. The higo asados (grilled figs) were smothered in a balsamic reduction sauce, fresh goat cheese, and topped with almonds, said the menu (but they tasted more like peanuts).

Speaking of goats…

They had some walking around leisurely in a sandy pen and refusing to show their faces to my camera. There were mommies and babies, goat milking and goat-milk-ice-cream making on Saturday afternoon, just before we arrived. The goats spoke Spanish. 😀

There were also fuzzy headed white chickens, a big children attraction nearby. And Jack London‘s old cabin (looking real cozy), because hey, we’re at Jack London Square.

And boy was it sunny both days. But amidst the heat and smoke from humans and grilled meat did we find something refreshing. The Raw Daddy Foods‘ truck was facing away from the setting sun, and offering only, well, raw foods. In cones.

Pilgrim’s cream cone. $5. Maple cream filling, with carrots, cashe, extra virgin coconut oil, and candied pecans, which ended up tasting like pumpkin pie! Not my favorite flavor, but it was good.

It’s worth noting that the festival was full of tacos (and other Mexican foods). There must have been at least ten trucks with the crunchy half moons. But this one has the most catchy name:

I actually had my eyes on the looking for this truck since I saw the list online. And I actually hate am troubled by the cheesy-advertising-trend-following usage of the word “Kung Fu” in anything, like Kung Fu Panda (hate have an aversion to the movie too, just from watching the trailer). Think “Vampire Burrito” and you may see my point? Anyhow, the tacos from Kung Fu Tacos looked shiningly attractive.

It was either Chinese-style chicken or pork, I can’t remember, on two tiny corn tortillas for $4. The taste was well worth the price, though. Besides, the line was quite short, much more so than Kara’s Cupcake two trucks over, however longer than Ebbett’s Good To Go, who should win Best Decoration with flower pots on bright blue:

We opted for vegan banh mi ($4) with tofu, Thai basil pesto, and pickled carrots. It was nowhere near banh mi, as they spelled it “bahn mi” anyway. Nice try.

BUT, it was still pretty acceptable. Tummy filling at the least. I wish I could say the same about Le Truc‘s one-bite-sized hoppy cheesecake, delivered fresh and fast from a big cheddar school bus:

Look good, eh? Taste like hop. Now maybe it’s good if you’re into beer, but none of us liked it. It’s not the sweet luscious cheesecake we expected. It was stinging bitter at first, then if you haven’t expectorated it already, thick and salty like old cheese on the tongue. The shiny brown sauce was even worse. Consider $4 flipped into the trash.

On the other hand, what was good was excellent. Like the fried plantains ($3) from Soleil’s African Kitchen.

No need for words. The line was fifty persons long under the blazing sun, and kept on growing. But I would do it all again for these salty sweet little beasts. My only complaint: they don’t have a restaurant that I can frequent!

To conclude the day, what’s better than some ice cream?

Nieves Cinco de Mayo let you sample their colorful snows before committing to the scoops. Guava was unexpectedly similar to strawberry, both in hue and in taste (unlike the green apple guava Vietnamese school kids munch with chili pepper salt). I opted for the rose petal flavor, which was more exuberantly rosy than Ici’s cardamom-rose version. It’s the pleasant awakening of every taste buds for merely 3 bucks.

Things we didn’t do at Eat Real Festival this year:

Eat paella;

Eat ice cream from a classic colored ice cream cart;

Learn how to grow mushroom and buy fresh fruits;

Get better pictures of the butchery contest – the guy on the right was superfast with his pink carcass;

And learn the name of the kitchen that made Scotch eggs – $4 a hard-boiled egg coated in meat and batter, deep fried. Overpriced, but yummy.

There’s always next year.

Two oatmeal cookies sandwiching a scoop of vanilla ice cream, everything encapsulated by a dark chocolate shell.

Chocolate shell with ice cream isn’t really my thing, because stuff breaks and spills, like you’re eating a hamburger and look down and see a salad on the burger’s wrapper, except now the melting ice cream replaces the lettuce and mayo. Oatmeal cookie is another not-my-thing, as it’s just too crumbly. But somehow this combination works.

The chocolate keeps the oatmeal cookies from turning into oatmeal, and the oatmeal cookies are soft and chewy enough that they don’t push ice cream out in the back (as much) when you take a bite. No wonder It‘s survived since 1928. It predates the Golden Gate Bridge by 9 years.

San Fran’s tradition sold in box of three (why 3?) for $3.69 at Safeway.
Oh, regarding health concerns (because that’s a trendy topic these days), It’s It contains no trans fat or high fructose corn syrup. Yippie!

Previously on Down the Aisles: Bubble chocolate bar

DISCLAIMER: I received no free product or monetary gift in exchange for this review.

Every now and then I feel blessed to grow up in the tropics. It doesn’t let you wear scarves and gloves, but it has bananas. Many types of bananas. There are at least 10 common cultivars in Vietnam, most are for eating fresh as a fruit, some for eating raw as a veggie with wraps, and one is particularly favorable to be cooked in desserts. And desserts with bananas are just about the most addictive thing out there.

Take this banana bread pudding for instance. I intended to cut one little slice each day to savor it for over a week, but next thing I knew I was gorging half the slab after dinner. The bread is part chewy, part spongy, mostly firm, juiced up by a semisweet layer of sliced banana on top. It needs no sauce, no ice cream, no chocolate. It is good both at room temperature and right out of the fridge.

The description simply can’t capture how delicious this thing is. And it’s not even a well made banana bread pudding, you know, the type of treat that grandmother would make at home or the recipe that a vendor has perfected over ten years of peddling dessert banh’s.

It’s just a cling-wrapped 3.75-dollar piece of cake that I bought from a banh mi store. It has only one layer of bread and one layer of banana. And it is Cavendish banana, the most popular type, if not the only type at many grocery stores, of banana that Americans have known and loved.

Not that I have anything against Cavendish bananas. They’re big. They’re alright for eating fresh. But a Cavendish’s flesh is no match for chuối sứ when it comes to cooking dessert.

Chuối sứ, literally ambassador (“sứ”) banana (“chuối”), was brought to the Vietnamese royal courts by Thai ambassadors (hence it’s also called “chuối xiêm”, as “Xiêm”  is another word for Thai). Like most bananas, chuoi su is considered native throughout Southeast Asia, where it’s known as siusok (Philippines), kluai namwa daeng (Thailand), and pisang siem (Indonesia). Scientifically, it is categorized under Triploid ABB, Musa x paradisiaca, although the latter is disputable as a general name for all bananas.

What I don’t get is the ABB classification. It signifies a below-average score, while Cavendish, a Musa acuminata, is in the AA group. Sure, chuoi su is shorter than Cavendish (less than the length of my hand from wrist to finger tip), but it is stout like a good bratwurst. In practice, chuoi su is more favorable for both eating and cooking because of its firm flesh, slightly gummy texture, and raisin-like sweetness, all of which can endure simmering, grilling, baking, steaming, and boiling. The banana just wouldn’t fall apart or lose its “honey”.

The best part is, it’s easy to grow, so it’s among the cheapest types of bananas in Vietnam’s markets. Not in America though. Which is why the banana bread pudding I have here tastes slightly sticky in the back of the throat and not as sweet as it could be. Nonetheless, it’s the champ of all sweet goodies we’ve gotten from banh mi stores so far.

Buy it: Kim’s Sandwiches, 1816 Tully Rd 182, San Jose, CA
Bake it: Bánh chuối nướng recipe

Previously on Sandwich Shop Goodies: bánh bò bông (steamed sponge cupcake)
Next on Sandwich Shop Goodies : steamed cassava

That pretty much sums up the In-N-Out buns.

Those burgers are not merely a matter of recharging one’s battery, though one of these joints might have been quite crucial to my friend’s survival on his way from coast to coast, as it was the only oasis between miles of burnt brown hills and deserts after he crossed the state line into The Golden Bear. His uncle always compares other burgers to In-N-Out’s, so when his dad visited the area, the man shrugged “well, I guess I should try it”. His friend, who later came here for conference, felt the same obligation as the other non-Californian conference attenders checked out lunch at In-N-Out. By hook or by crook, this chain gets the reputation of conjuring up a regional specialty that everyone should have while staying in California.

After living here for a year, I obliged. It was a sunny day driving back and forth between Milpitas and Berkeley, when I had zero gourmet craving and a simple need to eat a basic lunch. That’s a debatably good time for fast food. Don’t know if most people don’t get cravings, but In-N-Out was insanely busy when we got there. No parking. A waitress went outside to take orders from the loopy loop of cars. Almost all tables inside were taken. As Mudpie informed me, it’s always like this at lunch rush.

The service is nice. That’s one thing In-N-Out does better than other burger chains. People smile at you when they take, call, and give your order. It’s also fast. About fifteen workers scurry in the kitchen to cut, wash, fry the potatoes, flip the patties, toast the buns, that sort of thing. One good napkin comes out on the tray with each burger, so you can’t leisurely pull out a wad thick enough to pillow your dog just to later throw it away.

The visible menu is simple with only 3 choices: hamburger, cheeseburger, or double-double. They’re about the size of McDonald’s, which is much smaller than Burger King‘s and Fuddruckers’. You know how McDonald’s buns always have a distinctive smell that when someone at the back of the room pulls out a Golden Arches box, you sitting in the front immediately know that it’s a Golden Arches box? Well, In-N-Out doesn’t have that. In-N-Out’s $2.15 cheeseburger definitely tastes better than McDonald’s 89-cent cheeseburger, that much I can say.

The Yellow Zipline chain claims that their ingredients are fresh and free of preservatives and additives, as they “do not own a microwave, heat lamp, or freezer“. Their spread is mayo made pinkish with a mild flavor, which does not stand out. The patty is rather plain, however juiced up by copious chunks of lettuce and tomato. The fries, too, are much less salty than you’d normally get at other burger joints, but also denser and starchier, more potato-like so to speak.

As the end of our meal, we felt reasonably full. Though unimpressed. In some sense, kudos to In-N-Out for keeping burgers, fries, and shakes simple. It’s the fast food that defines America after all. However, in this case, the simple way is not the best way. This burger is nothing to swoon about. If you’re conscious about health when eating a beef patty and a slice of cheese sandwiched in a toasted bun, this is the place to go, although it’s kinda like ordering a mayo-laden sandwich and a bag of chips, then drink a diet Coke (which is a horrible liquid, by the way).

If you want cheap, big, good taste, go to Burger King.
If you want expensive, big, good taste, go to Fuddruckers.

This Saturday August 21 (11am-7pm) there’s some massive fun street food fest going on in the Mission District, next to Garfield Square, San Francisco. I counted 52 “vendors” for the chow, which spans all five continents (well, not including Australia, and Europe and Asia are two) and covers the menu from appetizers to desserts.

The majority power seems to split between los cocineros of Hispanic descent from the Southern hemisphere and the culinarians of the Far East. Colorful dapples here and there are West African (Purple Hibiscus of Nigerian American chef Chukuduwebe), classic Southern comfort (Zella’s Soulful Kitchen of chef Dionne Knox), hot dogs (Let’s Be Frank) and waffle sandwiches (Brass Knuckle), just to name a few.

Tasty. I can’t go, due to graduate school difficulties. (Why is it one day only?) Which is why I will make it to the Oakland’s Eat Real Festival (ERF) the weekend after against all odds. Mark my words.

Thankfully ERF is 3 days long, Aug 27-29, at Jack London Square. And there are way over 52 “vendors” this time, some also participate in La Cocina’s SF Street Food Fest. Maybe I’ll try the Kung Fu Taco Truck, not that I’m crazy about tacos or anything (quite the opposite).

Not street food related, Walnut Creek sees its first annual culinary tasting event, Savor Walnut Creek, this September 2nd from 7pm to 11pm.  Admission ticket is $25 with 2 tasting tickets included, then each participating restaurant will provide $4 and $8 menu options for additional ticket purchase. Tempting, but it’s a week night.

– Guest post by Paul Simeon –

This name may sound foreign to you, unless you happened to see it in the UK, New York, DC, or Hong Kong. It’s a British chain, with a French name, that’s slowly coming to America (and elsewhere). The private company has decided not to franchise, so it’s not spreading as fast as other fast food places, but they’ll slowly populate the States; Chicago is next this Fall.

Pret, as it is called by many, is like the ready-to-eat sections, as the name suggests, of cafes and food shops. They have a myriad of salads and sandwiches on the shelf that you can grab and take to the cashier. It’s about as fast as fast food can be. They have soups, fruit, baguettes, sushi, wraps, smoothies, yogurt, etc. They make everything in the kitchen each day and give the unsold items to charity at the end of the day.

The other thing one should say when describing this place in such a quick manner is that they stress that everything they sell is natural — no artificial preservatives, flavors, colors, sweeteners. They even buy meat from sellers who “never give their animals antibiotics or hormones, feed them only a vegetarian diet free of animal by-products and care about them and the environment in which they live.”

Crawfish and avocado salad from Pret A Manger

I went to my first Pret in London, where you can’t find a street without one, after a morning at the Science Museum with some friends I met at the summer school. I didn’t have a camera, but I got the Italian Pizza hot wrap and the crawfish and avocado salad. Both were good, but I particularly liked the salad. They had tons of crawfish, almost too many, but it had been a while since I had crawfish. The second time I went, the next day after the British Museum, I had a camera. I got the salad again and the vegetable sushi. I decided to take the picture of the sushi after I had eaten three pieces. The two of these set me back 6.50 pounds.

Overall, I liked how it operates. It’s fast, efficient, and pretty healthy. My only problem is that almost everything had mayonnaise on it, and I don’t like mayo. It was so common, they actually had “No Mayo!” stickers next to the names of the items that lacked that nasty white goop, but there weren’t many of those stickers to be found. So, most of the sandwiches were off-limits for me. That wasn’t a problem because they had plenty of other options.

Other bites in England:
– Oxford dinners – part I and II
– Cheap Moroccan grabs from Cous Cous Cafe, Oxford
– Indian food in Oxford: Mirch Masala and Fire & Stone’s Bombay pizza
– Pie and mash at the Ship Inn Upavon and Pieminister

– Guest post by Paul Simeon –

After seeing Stonehenge with a large group of friends, we went in search of a place for lunch. We were looking in a nearby village and happened upon a nice-looking place called The Ship Inn in Upavon. I don’t know how it got its name, being far from water and not resembling a ship. It did have a castle right behind it, which provided a nice setting for a midday lunch in the back patio of the place.

Let’s get down to business, the food. Many people got hamburgers. Someone ordered a ploughman’s lunch, which was a big chunk of bread with large wedges of cheddar and brie and a few slices of ham. Apparently cheddar is uncommon in some parts of Europe as some hadn’t heard of it. I was in England, so I had to get something distinctly British — steak and kidney pie. It looked like a quarter of a full pie, with a side of vegetables and mashed potatoes. It was good, nothing unexpected, nothing disappointing. There wasn’t much kidney, but that wasn’t a problem. I much prefer the steak to the muddy texture of kidneys. It set me back about 8 or 9 pounds. If I went again, I’d get the same thing, unless I were not that hungry. Then, I’d get the ploughman’s lunch, which comes with or without ham.

Steak and kidney pie at the Ship Inn Upavon, England

Address: The Ship Inn Upavon
10 High Street, Upavon, Wiltshire.
Telephone: 01980 630313

Back in Oxford, I asked a local for a good place to eat near the Covered Market. She replied with a sandwich-and-panini shop and Pieminister, a good place for pie and mash. I decided to scope them both out before I made my decision. I walked the crowded Saturday streets to the crowded Saturday market. There were shops of all types, including fresh meat and fish markets. I feel bad for the creperie directly across from the fish market. Somehow, they still had good business. The panini place didn’t seem too interesting; it seemed like the type of place I would go to for more regular, everyday meals where I don’t want too much unhealthy food.

Pieminister was a place that served just one thing: pie and mash. That’s meat pie (and vegetarian pies), not dessert pie. They had about 10 types of pie with beef, chicken, pork, potatoes, cheese, and other fillings. I wanted the chicken and tarragon pie, but they were out. I settled with the Heidi Pie, filled with sweet potato, goat cheese, spinach, red onion, and roasted garlic. I got the student special, which was advertised to come with “pie, mash, minty m’peas, and groovy.” In other words, it came with the pie placed on a heap of mashed potatoes, and covered in a scoop of mashed mint-flavored peas, all smothered with gravy. It was 5 pounds, but it was 6.50 without a student ID. I think a pie alone would be around 3 quid.

Heidi pie at Pieminister Oxford

Where do I begin? I guess it has to be with the peas. The mint flavor didn’t go with the rest of it, in my opinion. It was strong enough to taste it through a big bite with everything mixed together. Mint doesn’t seem to mix well with other things, except chocolate. The pie was good. Sweet potato was the most abundant filling, by far. The crust was great, as usual. Everything was savory and blended well, except the mint. I could barely finish it all. If I came again, I’d go for the chicken and tarragon pie with mash, no peas.

Address: Pieminister Oxford
56-58 The Covered Market,
Oxford, Oxfordshire
OX1 3DX
Telephone: 01865 241613

Other bites in England:
– Oxford dinners – part I and II
– Cheap Moroccan grabs from Cous Cous Cafe, Oxford
– Indian food in Oxford: Mirch Masala and Fire & Stone’s Bombay pizza
– England’s healthy fastfood chain: Pret A Manger

In foodie talk, Berkeley is synonymous with Chez Panisse: there’s hardly a writing of Bay Area cuisine without the mentioning of Alice Waters and her propriety. But as attractive as the local and sustainable idea sounds, places like Chez Panisse are clearly not in the accessible range for everyone’s weekly, or even monthly, savour. If it’s not what the locals regularly eat, how can it represent the local cuisine? The common Berkelers don’t make one month reservation to eat at a cafe, they instead would rather make a line on the sidewalk, waiting to be seated in 25 minutes or so-told by waiters with tattoos and spiky hair. Such casualness, though paired with obvious reduce in taste innovation and price, defines the Berkeley dining spectrum, with the holes in the wall like Razan’s Organic Kitchen and Gregoire at the cheaper end, to more comfortable sit-downs like Herbivore and Venus at the other.

I call it a sit-down because Venus is barely bigger than a classroom, and diners are spaced more snugly than students on exam day. Its rectangular base holds a kitchen-cashier combination and roughly 40 seats – an ok amount for lunch and dinner but not enough for the mornings. I’ve seen lines, and been in one myself, standing outside the door even on weekdays. The mornings here are cold, but Venus’s breakfasts are good.

Venus's scramble eggs with calabrese sausage , spinach and mushroom, with roasted potato and toasts - $11.00

Omelets and scrambled eggs are the main categories, with typical Californian blendings like chicken-and-apple sausage, fresh berries and chocolate chips in pancakes, and thick, fat, buttery French toasts accompanied by melons and oranges.

A Venus daily special - apple French toasts and sausage, to be dressed in blackberry syrup - $12.50

If you feel guilty about taking time to savor your toasts while others are shivering outside waiting to slip through that door, lunch proves a more comfortable choice. To boost, the hosts give you both the breakfast and lunch menus if you arrive around noon. The specials of the day are printed items with a simple twist, like my chicken salad with a load of watermelon cubes mixed in.

A Venus daily special - watermelon salad with grilled chicken breast and feta cheese - $13.00

The ingredients aren’t clamorous and the mixing isn’t adventurous, but such daily specials are nonetheless a refreshing attempt to harmonize flavors: sweet watermelon to temper tangy feta and vinaigrette, teeth-sinking jello crunch of the grilled chicken to pair with airy crustiness of newly baked bread. It isn’t the best salad I’ve ever had, but it bursts a mouthful of Casual-Cali aroma(*): healthy food can have attractive taste.

The atmosphere, too, is characteristic. Jazzy 60’s records reluctantly slip words one by one off the speaker like water dripping from a roof after some heavy rain. College students twirl their straws over a quiet chat by the windows. An old man with a cane and weak feet drags his steps to the table, clouding himself with a Degas’ look while waiting for his soup. Lone diners in spectacles spend an entire morning flipping through the news, occasionally take a bite of sandwich and a sip of coffee. Couples in their late fifties laugh and talk without constraint. Everyone is comfortable. It’s a noisy place, but oddly it’s full of solitude.

Venus restaurant, in some aspect, is just like their panna cotta: rich and smooth, with the occasional fresh and tart berries to boost.

Dessert at Venus - panna cotta with fresh berries - $8.00

Eating local and sustainable means spending unsustainably, or eating expensive in plain terms. Sure, breakfast for two or lunch plus dessert will rip you off about 25 dollars sans tip. But when the bill doesn’t absurdly boast $50 or more a person, the taste, the portion and the good feeling of eating healthy and local justify the self-indulgence. I guess.

Address: Venus Restaurant
2327 Shattuck Avenue,
Berkeley, CA 94704
(510) 540-5950

(*): This definition is made only on comparison with the cuisines of other states in America, as the fusion and local trend is by no means particular to California, but a growing fashion in high-end restaurants around the world.