Boggle Goes West: Oakland & The East Bay 2

As you'll have read earlier, Oakland has some very nice places to drink. This post deals with some other fine bars elsewhere in the East Bay, but first, I need to discuss food.

I'm no gourmand, much less a gourmet. I do like good food, and these days I'm usually much more aware of things like provenance and production, but my tastes are pretty basic. When I'm travelling, a decent breakfast and access to fresh fruit and milk, usually keeps me going. If I need to top up, the local pub grub or street food will do the trick.

Quite a lot of the street food in California is Hispanic. For some years, I've been interested in the idea of this, but trying to explain the UK experience to a local causes loud guffaws. We have to start somewhere with any new cuisine (anybody else remember Birds Eye frozen pizza in the 70's?), but try and describe an Old El Paso taco kit to somebody who has access to a dozen decent Mexican eateries 10 minutes from home and watch the disbelief give way to hysteria.

Last trip out, I'd shout excitedly as we passed a Taco Bell, until everybody was fed up. So, this trip was the one where I'd move on from the concept of the Taco and actually eat that mofo. First night in, Rap and I head up to Rockridge (cue Hedley Lamarr impressions off Blazing Saddles). Beer later, first we're going into the Cactus Taqueria. I had a couple of soft tacos carnitas (pork) with some mango juice to wash them down. These are a bit of challenge for somebody who grew up thinking a taco shell is basically a giant dorito. The food is simple but nourishing and, concept realised, it was time for a beer.

Up the block is Barclays Pub & Restaurant. This place is packed with Giants fans watching a game on TV. On the right of the bar, there's a dartboard and some kind of match on. The bar has a decent sized beer garden through which you walk to go in. We get seats at the bar and aim for Blind Pig. They serve beer in UK 20oz pints, and there's enough for one pint before the keg kicks. I sip it and start to zone out a bit as the day catches up with me so it's just the one pint and back home to bed. ZZZzzzzzzzzzz...

On Friday we're all meeting up - Rap, Mr & Mrs Snake, Tef and I - and aiming to hit a few places around Berkeley and Rockridge. Berkeley was a hotbed of student activism at the height of domestic opposition to the Vietnam War in the 60s but the campus these days is much more moderate. You know you're in a university town, though. We're heading to Triple Rock Brewing, a brewpub which has been operating since 1985. We plot up on the roof terrace and munch on some appetizers washed down by some house brew. They have a seasonal programme and support local homebrewers, and also host a cask fest. Mr Snake helped out at this year's, and told me that many US brewers don't 'get' cask. Overly yeasty or under-conditioned casks were not uncommon.

We have to meet Tef, so head back over to Rockridge. We end up getting there on the same BART train, so all head towards Barclays to drink some Blind Pig. Rockridge, though part of Oakland, has a pleasing township vibe, and tonight it's some kind of open house musical thing, so bars, cafes and restaurants all have some kind of live music on offer, and whole families are out dining and enjoying the early summer atmos. Most of the musicians are playing jazz, including a quartet of spotty high-school kids. Tragic really, to be playing this self-indulgent rubbish so young, I find myself hoping they grow out of it soon - maybe get some piercings and body art, raid their parents' record collections and find some Dead Kennedys or similar. Anyway, I try and tune the laid-back choons out.

Barclays are even busier tonight, so we hide by the dartboard. Worse, they still don't have any Pig, though there are two fresh kegs tantalisingly close to us. We hang about drinking draught Negro Modelo, the dark stablemate to Corona, but it's all a bit unsatisfying. Unable to get a table (Waitress: "table for 5, party name of Jackson?" Tef (for it is he): "Yes, we're the Jackson 5..."), we head off to a restaurant called Hudson's.

This place looks very swanky inside, and again, we can't get a table. There's seating outside though, so hardy souls that we are, we block the pavement as the air cools. They have local beers on, so I'm into Linden Street Burning Oak black lager. We spend an hour or so shooting the shit, eating and taking the piss out of the impending End Of The World (Harold Camping is based in Oakland, and his 'church' paid for huge electronic billboards with countdown timers on around the Bay Area). An excellent evening.

On Sunday, after Rap and I get back from Sonoma and a trip to Russian River, we meet with Mr & Mrs Snake and head off for more authentic Mexican food, at El Huarache Azteca in Fruitvale. The neighbourhood has a 'barrio' feel I've encountered in places like Echo Park in Los Angeles, and this restaurant has a good reputation. A huge mural covers all the internal walls, some locals are in watching the Mexican Primera Division, while one corner is given over to what looks like a small sweetshop.

We're drinking Negro Modelo out of the bottle, and it's a different beer to the one we had on Friday, lots more chocolate and roastiness. It's still served with a slice of lime in the neck, though. I get behind a huge plate of Alambres, three types of meat with peppers and onions, melted cheese on a bed of tortilla. Meat frenzy and it's excellent.

Heading back to Rap's, we drive by Lake Merritt, a huge man-made body of water which looks beautiful at night. Lake Chalet, a sister restaurant to the Beach Chalet on Ocean Beach in San Francisco, is all lit up, sitting right on the water. They don't brew here, so I didn't bother to check it out.

That's all from the East Bay. Coming up, the trip to Sonoma and Russian River...

Boggle Goes West: Oakland & The East Bay 1

(So, a trip Stateside, my first in almost two years. I am making my first visit to the West Coast since the infamous November of 2008, when temperatures in California hit 90 degrees, causing forest fires and sunstroke in a de-hatted Matt Wickham from the Evening Star. I am staying with my friend Rap who lives over the bay from San Francisco in Oakland. This post is about my beery experiences there...)

Oaktown. San Francisco's obnoxious little sibling. Id to SF's ego. Oakland - where the dirt says hot and the label says not. A whole city with a chip on its shoulder. I've never seen so much spitting in the street. By adults. The home of the Raider Nation, channeling arseyness through its once-overachieving sports teams. Oaksterdam. Where going out for a smoke means something different, and can empty a bar...

Enuff. Enuff of this. Cross the seismically-unstable Bay Bridge from SF (they're having to build a new one), past the port and towards the slowly-gentrifying Downtown around Jack London Square and you're in Alameda County and the City of Oakland. This place is off the Bay Area tourist trail, but has become attractive to workers from over the Bay thanks to lower rents and good transport links. Slowly, neighbourhoods are becoming more socially mixed and new businesses are opening. And there's good beer and some interesting places to drink it.

Beer contacts have given me a rundown of good places to go for beer in Oakland, and further afield in the East Bay. Mr & Mrs Snake, friends who meet me at Rosamunde's in the Mission District in SF, pad out the list with some helpful insights, so I'm ready to head out.

My first afternoon in downtown Oakland, I take a wrong turn and end up at Pacific Coast Brewing Co. Mr Snake has warned me this place only brews beer from extract. I'm looking for Trappist, which, it turns out, is just along the block, but I want a pint, and they have guests. The place is busy, I assume from its proximity to the Oakland Convention Center. I get a seat at the bar, and look over the beer menu. You can almost chart the beginning of the second wave of craft brewing in the US by looking at the awards some of the beers have won at GABF. These dry up in the mid-90s, about the time when the industry shook out a lot of the over-optimistic or poor quality brewing businesses. They've been going for over 20 years here, ploughing their own furrow. The menu is your generic brewpub range with something called 'Cask'. Bizarrely, they seem to offer this as a style. I grin - I won't be drinking it, but I'd love to see the face of one of the Kevin's on perusing the bill of fare.

I have an RRBC Pliny The Elder and a slightly off-form Bear Republic Racer 5. The hairy kid behind the bar is puzzled by my overlooking the house beers, but it turns out he knows the people at Commonwealth Cafe & Public House, where I am to watch the Cup Final, so he's cool. I've been in town less than two hours and get the first guess at my accent, as a conventioneer having his dinner takes a stab at either Irish or Scots. Git aht ovvit!

Having got my bearings, I wander over to Trappist. I had a brief chat with Phil Lowry about Oakland before the trip. "Why go there?" he challenged, and in a way he has a point. I probably won't get anything here I couldn't get in London. That isn't why I'm going here, though. This is one of two tickerific venues in Oakland, a destination pub which appears able to lure punters across the Bay. Curiosity demands a visit...

I go in by the back bar room, a large, cool room with a Yooropean vibe. Plenty of affluent-looking people are sitting around sipping their imported Belgians and I notice there's also stuff from other scenes, including Mikeller. I'm drinking Moonlight Reality Czech, a local 4.8% pilsner. Brewer Brian Hunt was at The Rake a year or two back, and his beers are well-brewed, full of flavor and, unusually for a US brewer, hovering either side of 5%. Rap arrives and we head around to the narrow front bar. Much more of a city beer bar feel, and it doesn't get the sun. A very nice place, though.

From left: sign in Trappist back bar; back bar room; Peter Reid is world-famous?; door sign at Beer Revolution; Oakland Youth show out at Beer Revolution; Rap and Mr & Mrs Snake on roof terrace at Triple Rock Brewing

Next day, after a huge round trip taking in Marin Brewing and SF, I head for Beer Revolution, the other tickerific bar, with almost 50 taps of nano and craft deliciousness. There's a real hipster feel to the neighbourhood, but thankfully none of the ennui or snotty attitude you get in Williamsburg in NYC. Unbelievably, I am 'carded' as I go in.

Biker Door Dude: Can I see some ID?
Boggle: You're putting me on! I'm 50 next birthday.
BDD: I need to see some ID...
SB: I'm not carrying my passport. Can't you see my hair is grey?
(Dude peers at my shaven pate)
BDD: I can't tell, it's too short.
SB: I can show you my chest hair if you like... (make to lift tee shirt)
BDD (grinning): no, no! You can go in.

Later, I realise they card everybody if they don't know them. I get talking to some guys who used to have a band together. Circumstances mean they can have a reunion, so they're meeting for beers before heading off for a late-night jam session. In a way, it reminds me of Creme Brulee off the League of Gentlemen - the bass player is a pro, but wants to do something with his old band. Inside the bar it's crowded, but the bartenders are very efficient and friendly despite all the piercings and tattoos on display. A few friends had warned me there's a "we're not worthy" beer elitism vibe here, but I didn't pick it up. The clientele might put one in mind of the cantina scene in Star Wars, but they're out for a good beer, and this place sells it, from what I tried. Cool logo, too.

Luka's is a Jekyll-&-Hyde sort of place not far from where I'm staying. On Friday I'm heading back to get changed and get ready for a night out, and I badly need a restroom. Off the 19th St BART, and I get as far as Luka's before I crack. A large two roomed bar on a corner, the main area has loads of table seating through a long room, and a decent-size bar which is already pretty busy with late lunch diners and early drinkers. I get a seat and order a Racer 5. It's in top form here. The staff are friendly and it feels chilled, but later at night, this turns into a bit of a nightclub, with music and dancing in the back. They tell me if you fancy a beer at two in the morning, you can pop over here.

I sorted my trip out without thinking about the FA Cup Final. Being a Man City fan, usually it wouldn't matter, but this year we're at Wembley,so I need to find somewhere to watch it. The recommendation is Commonwealth Cafe & Pub, in a neighbourhood known locally as 'Pill Hill'. I'd checked before the trip and got back a vague confirmation, but luckily a regular is also a Blue, and he gets the owner, Roscoe, to open up. I'm there at ten to seven on Saturday morning, slightly suffering after a night out followed by an entire bottle of Captain Lawrence Nor'Easter winter warmer. Arrggh.

There are four people in the bar plus Ross Adair, the transplanted Glaswegian who co-owns the place. He's brewing up coffee and there's iced water. I'm grateful there's no early beer, but I'm soon dealing with caffeine jitters and sweaty palms as City conspire to frustrate their fans by making the game closer than it need have been. There are seven taplines and a couple of fridges full of mostly Scottish beers - Belhaven, Harviestoun, some BrewDog - but also Harvey's Elizabethan, Thornbridge Jaipur...

He's got keg Fuller's London Pride on, which a scouse expat called Tim decides to drink when the bar 'opens' at 10am. He knows good beer - indeed, in one of those small world moments, he once walked into the Evening Star in Brighton off the plane, to be confronted with Racer 5 on draught and bottles of Speakeasy Prohibition. As he relates his story ("the barman was just heading out here to stay with a mate in Oakland!") we tell him that Matt Wickham (for it is he) is a mutual friend, while that Speakeasy beer he drank would have been made by Mr Snake. The world of beer is smaller than we think. But we coat him off for drinking that Pride. The hairy kid from Pacific Coast wanders in 20 minutes from the end. He doesn't remember me.

I came back here for a spot of lunch before I flew home. The menu is based on UK cafe favourites, but with a twist. Excellent toasties, an interesting take on shepherds pie, and you can wash it down with some interesting local beers.

I asked Ross about getting BrewDog. He said his supply had been interrupted while they changed US distributors, so he wasn't sure if there was any supply problem generally. He had Hardcore at around $10 a bottle and Paradox at $15. He said the lower ABV's usually sold OK. He also said James Watt owes him a reply to an email, so if you're reading, James...

So, that was my Oakland experience. It's off the tourist trail, but that was fine by me.

Coming up: SF & Marin Brewing; The Rest of the East Bay; and Sonoma & Napa.