Japanese breakfast

On Friday, as part of CAAMFEST, Doug and I went to see a film with Jon and Leah. Called "Family Ingredients," the show turned out to be the pilot for a new tv show in Hawaii that traces the cultural origins of all the different foods that have come to the islands --Filipino, Polynesian, Chinese, and in this case, Japanese.

The featured guest was Michelin starred chef Alan Wong, who, it turns out, is half Japanese, half Chinese. And his comfort food from childhood is tamago kake gohan.

Sort of.

Before you even walk in the door, you can tell this is a place that doesn't take itself too seriously.

Crunchy Air

To enter Brown Sugar Kitchen is to give yourself over to indulgence. Yes, they have a fruit bowl, but that's not what you're going to eat. (And quite frankly I recommend against it as it's pretty weak…) Maybe somebody orders the granola, but anyone that dedicated to their health these days is probably also gluten and refined sugar free, so probably not. So you might as well just go for some Atkins-esque fried chicken. As Doug points out however, waffles aren't Atkins, and they are really a must-have.

To back up, Brown Sugar Kitchen is an outpost of gourmet southern food in a food desert in West Oakland. We stumbled upon it when we were shopping for tile and countertops at nearby Granite Expo, wondering why there were people waiting outside this tiny, brown, triangular building that looked like a railroad depot or something. The area is desolate, but somehow at this restaurant there was a 25 minute wait for brunch.

We soon learned that this place was a little famous. And after eating there, we learned why.

Very Fancy Sandwiches

So I usually don't eat out for lunch midweek. Really, I am not yet a lady who lunches! All that is to say, yes I went out for lunch again this week. I met my former colleague, Betsy, at Bar Tartine for…  soup and sandwiches.

Too much cheese

"It's vegetarian but not a lot of vegetables," Doug pointed out. We were at La Mediterranee, an old standby in the Elmwood District of Berkeley. This place is been here for 30 years, but this is the first time I've ever been.

Even though the place had a hippie vibe, or to be more specific, a post-hippie vibe, there weren't very many vegetarian options. I can't put my finger on exactly why it felt post-hippie. Doug thought it might be the mosaic tile tables. Maybe it's the combination of wood paneling and art that looks like it's been scooped up from the earth and smeared on plywood. It's kind of cozy.

A conversation on shrub.

Looking at what is published on shrub, it looks like you can allow it to ferment.  That must be how some are fizzy without adding soda water.  I don't know if vinegar results in lactofermentation, but I think this is mostly how momma does it.

Trying to see how this looks when it publishes.

 So I am thinking that we can just add our own comments in the conversation like this, in the body of the post, but we have to put our photo in so people can tell who is talking. However, I don't know how to make the photo any smaller than this, which is about 10 times bigger than I envisioned.

I do have something to report: a way NOT to drink shrub. I just tried adding it to hot water and almond milk, like, instead of tea. It curdled the milk, and then when I heated it up in the microwave, it settled out, like miso soup. And it tastes kind of gross, sour, milky. I added a bunch of honey and now it's drinkable, because I feel guilty wasting it. another legacy from our mother. But I do not recommend it!

Raw Blood Orange Shrub

Hi Shing,

So I was making a shrub today and it seemed like a good moment to start us off on this blog that we've been talking about. Shrubs, in case you haven't heard, just might be the latest hipster trend --fruit infused drinking vinegars that were popular in colonial America and 17th century England, and can be used for mixed cocktails. Or in our teetotaling ways, a fancy soda.

We had bought a bottle a few days ago and it's already almost gone. It was delicious, but it cost $15! As usual, my thrifty self had that cocky, dangerous thought, "I can make that."