Flavor Boulevard

The cold weather kicked in. When wind and rain hit your window panes, jackets start dominating your closet, and colorful scarves make their presence at every clothing store, what is the first thing in your mind? A cozy snug-up with a book, maybe dreamy smoke rising up from a mug of hot chocolate, or early Christmas shopping? Ever since a friend took me to this Korean dine-in, it has become the Call of the Wild Tummy on wintry days.

Telegraph avenue is a busy street. Tents set up on both sides with multitudes of youngster jewelries, flashy windows with vintage clothes, beggars with voice stronger than a football coach… But there is one wooden door that looks so humble it stood out amidst the restless noise.

I like Berkel Berkel because of its wooden doors, its dimly lit interior, its young customers gathering quietly around small tables, the unadorned facileness, and the affable host (dressed in white in the picture below). No matter how cold it is outside, once you’re in here, you’re warmed up by the familiarity. Wrapping my hands around a cup of oksusu cha, I felt at home.

The menu is simple and basic. Barbecue meat (bulgogi), rice with eggs and mixed veggies (bibimbap), soups; if my memory serves me right, everything comes with a choice of beef, pork, chicken, or vegetarian. I’ve only tried bulgogi and dolsot bibimbap here. (It was the first dolsot bibimbap I had since reading about it in Noodlepie. The other two Korean restaurants near campus don’t serve bibimbap in a sizzling stone bowl, a dolsot, hence deprive both the rice and the rice eater half the fun.)

Although I’m not a big fan of veggies, their beautiful assortment makes a dainty remark on my prejudice, and thankfully the pickled sourness and gochujang’s subtle triggering were anything but plain. Gochujang (chili paste), except for being crimson red and spicy, tastes a lot like the Vietnamese chao; naturally, since they are both made from aged fermented soybean paste, or tofu.

An all-mixed-up bowl looks like this. Spinach, bean sprout, carrots, cucumber, lettuce, egg, sesame oil, stir-fried beef, chili paste, my mouth is watering as I’m writing this. Korean spiciness goes with a piquant sourness, distinguishing itself from Mexican’s forward plainness, Thai’s fruity sweetness, or Indian’s peppery pungency.

Forget about manners, I made a tower consisting of a square of beef, a piece of baechu (Chinese cabbage) kimchi, and a slice of pickled cucumber on a spoonful of rice. Korean rice is noticeably moister than Vietnamese rice, so stuffing that monstrous pile into my mouth wasn’t too hard, the rice didn’t fall apart. The hand can only write of so many poetic remarks before the brain is flooded with images and tastes relived, too fast to be organized, so I will now simply list other good things here: excellent salad dressing, lingering corn tea, free unlimited banchan (kimchi, cucumber, and sweet black beans), and most importantly, student’s-pocket-friendly price (under $10/dish, confirmed by my students).

Address: Berkel Berkel
2428 Telegraph Ave, Berkeley, CA 94704

Also read: Second visit at Berkel Berkel

Note to self: next time grocery shopping, look for corn tea. Do they sell those at stores, though?

There is this McDonald’s pretty much right across the street from the old Physics building where I went to college. It made good business. College kids, tight pockets, tight schedule, empty stomach, of course. But good old days are no more. The Big M is nonexistent here, although all the above conditions still hold. The Physics building is inconveniently located in the middle of campus, which is at least 15 minutes strolling to the nearest food in any direction (on-campus diners don’t count). The shortest voyage if you’re facing south leads to the corner Durant-Bowditch. A yellow sign gently says “Le Cheval – Saigon Cuisine, Est. 1986”, with green vines, sunshine patio, and “cash only”.

The place is usually packed during lunch peak. (This picture was taken at 3 pm.) There are about a dozen dishes on the counter, you pay a fix price for a combo rice plate, and make your own. I haven’t tried those, because it would take more time than to order a bowl of pho. Actually I said “noodle soup”, and the white man at the cashier politely asked, in well-toned Vietnamese, “phở bò?” :-). I paid, poured myself a glass of water, sat down with a number. Two minutes later a guy, tray in hand, zigzagged from the back kitchen through numerous chairs and conversations. My pho was ready, snuggly next to the usual bountiful plate of bean sprouts and mints. I don’t recall my double cheeseburgers coming to me faster than that, especially when there are 50 customers around. Arguably, this phở is a more heart-warming encounter. What else would you expect from a big bowl with lotsa meat?

Speediness aside, Le Cheval has something else worth coming for: phở sans broth and all that steamy business. I haven’t seen this dish anywhere else. It appears under the name “stir-fried phở” on page 3 of the menu. It has the combined quality of pad thai and jap chae. A delicate yet enduring texture. It’s phở you can eat with a fork and ease. It’s phở you can take your time handling without making it disintegrate into the sea of broth. And take time you must, for it’s a big plate.

The veggies and shrimps are just makeup on a natural beauty, and probably for the health-conscious. The noodle is already savoury by itself.

Side note: the chopsticks here might be a little too short, and I always get loaded with guilt when putting my finished bowl (with broth) into the plastic bins for dirty dishes. Fatty liquid streaming out and coating the bowls isn’t a pretty sight. On the plus size, self-service saves you on tips, and all the more reason to order pho xao if you have time.

Address: Le Petit Cheval
2600 Bancroft Way (between Bowditch St and College Ave)
Berkeley, CA 94704
510-704-8018

They say in India you can buy a train ticket scheduled to leave within 2 hours, go back to the hotel, shower, take a nap, walk around, come back to the train station the next day, and it’s just in time for the train to arrive. I haven’t been to India to testify that story, but I’ve been at Berkeley, and rest assured, it is similar. Waiting for the city bus and the school bus here is good practice for patience. I used to check the time, calculate how many minutes I have to walk from home to the bus stop, how many minutes until the bus arrives, how many minutes until I’m officially late for class. I do none of those now. I’m a learned man. Waiting for the buses here is like waiting for a fickle lover to get ready, it can be 10 minutes, or 30 minutes, or never. Don’t blame it on bad traffic. There are no cows wandering among cars, and the goats are all seasoned and stewed. Yep, the goats are ready to serve at your favorite local Indian eatery.

It isn’t on the permanent menu, but on the white board near the cashier, not far from the sign “We accept credit, but we prefer payment in cash”. I prefer credit, but that’s not the norm at Berkeley.

They say this place is voted the best Indian restaurant in town. That must be good, because there just might be more Indian restaurants and Indian shops than Indian residents here at Berkeley. And by Indian they mean the combination of Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan, and others in South Asia. Food blurs the line of nationality and brings together customers people. So is this place actually that good? I’ve tried food from curry land before, manufactured, home cooked, and restaurant made, and they didn’t have that kick to make me searching for more. But when friends suggest, you ought to comply. And when friends say goat biryani is spicy, you ought to listen. The first few spoons are defying. Supertender goat, sweet dates, inviting colors. I went on, my eyes shed tears. Maybe I’m just lame, maybe the house biryanis are crushed bits of burning coal, who knows.

Compared to the goat biryani, the chicken tikka masala (pictured) is heaven’s candy land. The sauce is coconuty and soothing, making the best dip for the best naan. I don’t know if all their dishes are the best in town, but I’m sure no naan can beat this naan. It’s so good it made me buy naan at the grocery’s only to my disappointment at the difference. The basmati rice is also cooked to excellence of sweet simplicity. If I come back, I will just order a bunch of naan and rice, they’re only a dollar each. They’re the kicks I’ve been looking for.

Biryani House
2011 Shattuck Ave, Berkeley, CA 94704
Price: 2 chicken tikka masala + 1 naan + 1 rice = $15.37