“Mua” I Could Kiss You

It’s pronounced “mw-ah” like a kiss, and boy is that fitting.

I’m the kind of person who can never settle on anything when it comes to “favorites”. What’s my favorite movie of all time, what’s my favorite color, what type of music do I listen to, I don’t know! It changes every day.

Until I found Mua, that is. This is hands down the best restaurant in Oakland. Yes, I am drawing a line in the sand, I am making a bold claim, and gosh darn it I’m going to support it. Well what makes it so great, you ask? Let me just tell you:

1. Location: Webster & Broadway

Mua is pretty easy to miss amidst the car dealership directly to it’s left and the massive stone church across the street. After a quick walk up Broadway from the 19th St. Bart station, you’ll find yourself suddenly faced with a wall of lush foliage surrounding an enormous black iron roll-up gate. Crane your neck a bit and you’ll see “MUA” painted in faded white above a small entry-way. You have arrived…

2. Ambiance: Underground Chic

As you past through the archway of flowering vines you’re met with a simple outdoor space. Wooden picnic tables, umbrellas to shade you from the perfect Oakland sunshine, and tasteful cobblestones line the walkway.

Then Bam! you’re in a hip labyrinth of delicious you’ll never want to escape. As you enter you’ll pass by what looks like a dressed up boiler room, specifically for private parties, while to the right you’ll see black iron stairs leading you to the rafters. Were you to follow these stairs, you’d snake along a runway of sorts overlooking the dining area below. After weaving by the open dance floor (yes, still in the rafters) you’ll walk through a candlelit aisle of two-person tables before fist bumping the DJ who is playing an amazing medley of 90’s R&B and hip hop with a dash of Joni Mitchell and Tracy Chapman esque tunes. Uh, yeah, it works.

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As you descend into the open dining area you’ll pass by Mua’s signature artwork consisting of scrawled figures and phrases spray painted onto large expanses of cardboard (the hipness, it hurts).

2. Mua ambience

Next you’ll glide into the bar area, fully equipped with small TV’s playing local sports games, wooden bar stools, drink specials, and a selection of pub grub.

There is literally something for everyone, and you can’t tell me otherwise.

3. Waitstaff: Charming Hotties

You know what’s better than a cool restaurant with good food? When you’re waiter doesn’t have a complex, and seems genuinely interested in your well being. These people are tip-able.

You know what’s even better than that? When they’re super attractive. Not only will you have the best service of you life, but the eye-candy is outstanding.

4. The food: Nom

Can you say southern comfort food paired with asian cuisine? Oh. My. God. I’m talking collard greens and bacon brussels sprouts. I’m talking blackened catfish and chili lime chicken wings. I’m talking grits and garlics prawns. HALLELUJAH CAN I GET A SIDE OF CHEESE-LESS MAC-N-CHEESE.

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The food is very good here.

5. The drinks: Yes

Everything from a craft beer, to an original cocktail, to a reasonably priced glass of delicious port to wash down your bread pudding. This is a local happy hour spot for a reason.

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6. Madame Mua: Bow Down

The best part of Mua has to be Madame. As you approach the hostess area you’ll be greeted by a petit woman sporting a tasteful kimono, round glasses, and a really rad bob haircut.

Madame is probably older than my mother and hipper than I could ever hope to be. When she isn’t making you feel unbelievably welcome, you will find her perusing the various areas of the venue, politely acknowledging each server and making sure they’re carrying their trays properly, re-aligning artwork that may be slightly askew, and gazing with pride at each perfect dish that leaves the kitchen and enters your belly.

We love it too Madame, we love it too.

Excessive or Impressive?: The Art of Drip Coffee

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How long is too long to wait for a drip coffee?

I really don’t know. I’m not a dedicated connoisseur of coffee (I’m partial to craft beer), but somehow 15-20 minutes seems like, I don’t know, a while. 20 minutes is a long time to wait for a single serving coffee when my Mr. Coffee at home cranks out a pot in 2 minutes.

What am I sacrificing by giving 20 minutes of my morning to this diva cup of jo? Or rather, what am I gaining by giving master baristas uninterrupted time to perfect their craft? What exactly are they doing during this timeframe? Will adding milk and sugar be considered a faux-pas? All of these questions ran through my mind as I sat taping my foot on the tasteful marble floor of Blue Bottle Coffee’s newly acquired W.C. Morse building on Broadway & 42nd.

I feel that a disclaimer is necessary here: it was 8am, and I am not a morning person, so this must be factored into any impatience I experienced during the incident. However, this is also a space that toes the line between good old oaklanders just trying enjoy a decent cup of coffee before they’re subjected to a day of office swill, and tactfully maneuvered extreme pretense. All my observations of the highly esteemed Blue Bottle Coffee, and W.C. Morse location in particular, begs the question, “excessive or impressive?”

Let’s take a look at the facts.

1. The W.C. Morse building is gorgeous. No getting around that one. The huge open floor plan allows for ample seating and enough space to build camaraderie with your fellow coffee drinkers at a comfortable, “it’s flu season stay away,” distance. Layout is simple and clean with marble tile floors, wooden high boy tables, and high ceilings that echo cozy coffee shop tunes. It’s pleasant. Survey says: Impressive.

2. There is an espresso repair shop. Which I’m sure has had at least one customer… But really, a $20 diagnostic fee with a $65 per hour charge? This seems like a bit much. If this is a legitimate business I have clearly chosen the wrong career path. I’ve also frequented this particular location on more than one occasion, and there has never actually been anyone there. How often to espresso machines break? Maybe it’s a museum… We may never know. Point goes to: Excessive.

3. The baristas are attractive and highly intimidating. What does one do when faced with a 6′ something slenderly fit man in pressed vintage garb that somehow matches the decor and also has perfectly groomed facial hair and a british accent? I… I don’t… Am I blushing? And now I’m not sure what to order because the coffee menu is long, and everything seems the same and completely different all at once, and I feel like my questions draw looks of distain from the steamy barista (you’re not worthy). Moving on to the pastries, easy, I want a waffle. But what’s this? Another 6′ something gentleman who also matches the building and has a sexy manbun (it’s a thing), and does not speak, only smiles coyly? Very, very flustered. Alas, I must admit this frazzle-effect is mostly my fault. Overall the service is excellent. Two on the board for: Impressive.

4. 20 minutes for a drip coffee. I haven’t forgotten, nor should you. I get it, a slow drip process is slow. But honestly, how slow? Joey and Susie and Bobby have all received their coffees and waffles, and they were all behind me in line. Why is it necessary for only my coffee to go through the giant fancy glass drip coffee contraption at glacial speeds?  I’m certain it will be cold by the time it even finishes making it’s way to my cup. 20 minutes I kid you not: Excessive.

5. When I finally received my slightly expensive, extremely slowly brewed coffee it was… Incredible. Hot damn I did not know coffee could taste that good. Milk and sugar would be blasphemous. What do I have to do to acquire one of those glorious giant drip coffee makers? I wish I had an espresso machine to break just so I could spend more time here.

Okay Blue Bottle Coffee, you are worth the wait:

Impressive.

 

 

 

Cityscape

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I like to think of myself as the driving man’s biker. I bike, I do, but I’m not one of those bikers.

You know what I’m talking about. The red-light-no-fright bike messengers who blow through the traffic signal. The last second swervers who make you spill coffee all over your lap as you slam on the brakes. The “the right lane is the bike lane, so it’s okay for me to ride down the very middle” bikers. The “stop signs don’t apply to me” hot shots. And the ever so awkward bike novice who looks like they’re going to fall due to the unbalanced weight of their load of fresh produce from the farmers market, because you’re just that good at being a sustainable human, and be crushed by the wheels of a passing soccer mom at any moment.

Now I’m not a great biker, I’ll admit it.  I’ve been overtaken by many a hipster in 70’s skirts and mary jane’s, but I do follow the rules of the road, dammit, and I truly believe that when simple measures are taken to not rustle the driving man’s jimmies, biking in Oakland is wonderful.

Not only is it super easy to get around (Oakland has implemented tons of bike routes throughout the city to ease the nerves of the beginner to intermediate biker), and people are surprisingly cool about bikes on BART (great service, don’t abuse it, check out the rules here), but it’s also a great way to check out some of the hidden gems of Oakland. The image above is one of them. I snapped this photo on a ride home from the Downtown Oakland YMCA aka THE GREATEST GYM ON EARTH. There’s a ton of amazing street art on various hidden alleyways in what has now been deemed the “Uptown” area of Oakland.

Which I don’t understand. It’s Downtown. Why are we calling it Uptown? I digress.

Street art isn’t the only draw to taking the bike route through the many cityscape’s of Oakland. I’m particularly interested in checking out the cranes at the Port of Oakland (Speilberg totally stole them for Star Wars), Lake Merrit is always a beautiful ride and a fun area to grab a drink and/or taco, and I’ve been especially keen on biking the new walking path across the Bay Bridge.

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Coincidence? I think not.

Coincidence? I think not.

Long story short, biking is a great way to get to know your city. Just don’t be a dick about it.

Cheers,

RL

Time to Run

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Thursday, how you mock me.

The grueling 9-5 grind of Monday-Friday can leave a person with a sense of delayed gratification: soon, it will be the weekend. Everything is chugging along, then WHAM! you’re hit you with Thursday. Not nearly as brutally torturous as Monday, none of the coy charm that comes with Tuesday, the hump-day motivation of Wednesday is no where to be seen, and the sweet satisfaction of casual Friday is yet to come. Thursday, you are no-man’s-land between the trenches, and it’s all I can do not to make a run for it.

I take solace in my carefully crafted weekend plans- Oakland calls!

Now, no one needs to know the intimate details of my weekend, but one thing I cannot help but share is the Sunday Pub Quiz at CommonWealth.

I stumbled upon this bar when I was looking for an apartment in the area, and I have to say, it is perfect.

Commonwealth has that cosy neighborhood feel that I find most bars in the Bay Area lacking. The beer is largely local, while the menu is peppered with British influence- A cool combo to find on 29th & Telegraph.

The food’s good, the price range has a nice gradation from reasonable to pricey but worth it, and the beer is great (served in aesthetically pleasing mugs fitting of a rowdy pub in England… Or so I imagine they would be if I had been to a rowdy pub in England), but my favorite aspect of this particular haunt is the people.

This bar brings all kinds: young families with kids who are shoveling mac&cheese down their throats, hip 20-somethings who rode their fixed gear bikes there, letter writers, soccer match watchers, finishing up that one last email-ers (yes! There’s free wifi!), ladies wearing ties, gentlemen wearing shoulder-length purple wigs, everyone. It’s beautiful.

And look, it’s just adorable (photocred CommonWealth Gallery):

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So that’s where I’ll be. Pub Quiz. Sunday. 6pm. Commonwealth. See you there 😉

Cheers,

RL

ps. Thursday, I still hate you.

Adventure Pack

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Yes, I am that dork who brings a backpack to the bar. Or on the crowded BART train. Or to brunch at the semi-nice restaurant. But never to the club. I try my best to avoid clubs at all times, and if I do find myself there I sadly will not have my adventure pack. If you have stumbled upon this blog in the hopes that I may have insight into the best clubs in Oakland, you have been mislead.

If however, you are now curious as to why I deem adventure packs necessary, and where exactly this particular pack will take you, you’re in the right place.

Every adventure needs a tool kit, and as I begin documenting my experiences of living back in my hometown of Oakland there are a few staple items I never find myself without: books, notebooks and pens, camera, maps (ideally real ones that don’t incorrectly locate you on a satellite or run out of battery or lose signal or instruct you to TURN LEFT HERE into a ditch), water, wine/whiskey/beer (fine not at all times, but live a little), SNACKS, playing cards, chapstick, wallet, cigarettes (because sometimes you want to say yes to that charming stranger who asks you outside for a smoke), and layers of extra clothes. This is the Bay Area after all.

And my newest item in the adventure pack? This blog.

On this blog I’ll share all the Oakland Whispers that I’ve come to love, and all the new rare gems I stumble upon. Here’s to an old city, and a new view.

Cheers,

RL