A Taste of Tequila & Tamales by The Bay

The first significant experience I had with a tamal was in a small town outside of Merida, Yucatan in the sweltering heat, sitting next to a chicken, a tub of habanero chiles too near for comfort, watching banana leaf packages emerge from an underground fire pit. It was the weekend before Hanal Pixan, meaning Day of the Dead in gringo and "soul food" in Mayan, and my host family wanted me to see the traditional mucbil chicken tamales (called pibs for short) emerge from "mother earth's womb." I had feasted on and made tamales before, but the ceremony behind this, from the careful unwrapping of each one to the tiny corner alter of a picture of la virgin, two coke bottles and two pibs is one of my favorite food related memories.

Fast forward to Sunday, April 17th for the 2011 Taste of Tequila & Tamales by the Bay, where top tequila producers boast their spirits and local tamale makers compete for the People's Choice award. There's no sacred ceremony here, and no chickens, but the event was a tribute to one of Mexico's oldest and greatest culinary gifts, wrapped in golden corn husks and ready for opening. The runners up (according to Ferronlandia), followed by the winner (according to the voters):

Tina Tamale. The minute I walked up to the stand of La Boriqueña Mex-icatessen, Tina's energy reminded me of the love, community and labor that goes into making tamales. 

Chatty, warm, and charming, Tina had already made friends with my parents who came by the booth earlier and I wouldn't be suprised to find her at their dining room table with a tamale assembly line by this weekend. Tina reps tamales as hard as she reps Oakland- Started by her grandmother, La Boriqueña has been in the Old Oakland neighborhood since the 1940's. Her website, filled with articles and links dedicated to Old Oakland, is testament to her community connection that runs three generations deep. She also makes a good green chile and cheese tamal. 
Chef Steve. Fast-talking Chef Steve is made for TV. Which makes sense because he specializes in coooking demonstrations. 

I was taken away by his wild gestures and enthusiastic demeanor and then softly released into my own thoughts of discovery as he smiled while I savored his filipino tamales. Covered with banana leaf and made with coconut, rice, and pork filling. 
El Huarache Loco. I believe that at their weekly Alemany Farmers Market stand, Veronica Salazar's Mexico City influenced menu is presented a little nicer than my messy plate. That half tamal was turned inside out. 

However, in Ferronlandia flavor rules, and the untidiness on my plate was due to an unusual ratio of spicy, chocolaty, nutty, delicious mole to tamal, which made me wonder if anyone in the polished SF Design Center Galleria would notice an otherwise well-mannered girl licking a corn husk and paper plate dry. El Huarache Loco is a La Cocina business.

And the winner is... The Whole Tortilla. Because doing things differently pays off. Ricardo and Vanessa make a no-husk tamal with New Mexican red and green chile incorporated into their pork, chicken and veggie fillings. Their philosohpy centers around using the whole fruit, vegetable, and chile pepper to incorporate full flavors and nutritional value. The result was the moistest tamale I've ever tasted. Find them at the Jack London Square Farmers Market. 

Got the travel bug?
http://www.tamalesbythebay.org/
La Boriqueña Mex-icatessen
Chef Steve
El Huarache Loco
The Whole Tortilla

San Francisco International Chocolate Salon

Ahh 50,000 square feet of chocolate, my kind of breakfast. The San Francisco International Chocolate Salon was a bazaar of fifty chocolate vendors, wineries and genuine chocolate-loving freaks. I was pushed over by an old lady with a notepad, cut in line by a hipster (pause, that happens everywhere), and rubbed elbows with some seriously demanding Napoleon Dynamite look-alikes who greeted reps with a fast paced, "Hi, I'd like to try each variety and please explain to me what I should be tasting while I'm chewing, thank you." It was all a cacao hazed blur by the end, but I did manage to decide on a few favorites:
Amano's Sidr Honey Truffle

Had I known this truffle was made with the most expensive honey in the world I would've pocketed a few for my e-bay store. Sidr honey is made from bees who feed on the sacred Sidr tree in the Hadramaut region of Yemen. It's harvested twice a year, when farmers go into the highlands as they've been doing for 7,000 years. It's believed to be rich with healing properties, and I'm going to pretend that they still take effect when combined with an entire morning of chocolate tasting.
Nicole Lee's French Macarons

With flavors like lychee rose, passion fruit and vanilla olive, Nicole Lee's colorful plate of macarons was a burst of color and texture. Find her in San Jose.
Sexual Chocolate, by SLO down Wines

I could have a lot of fun with this. Instead I'm going to refer you to these guys, who are a barrel of laughs and breezy arrogance, and make one spicy syrah-zinfandel blend. SLO down Wines is Brandon and Chip's college hobby brought to fruition just this year, and if you can't tell from the photo below you're not going to have to make small talk about raspberry notes or altitudes to hang out with these winemakers.

Sexual Chocolate 2009 costs $16 a bottle, order here (and then invite someone special over). 

Missed the chocolate salon this year? Bookmark it for next year (psst, remember to bring a tupperware).

Got the travel bug?
SF Chocolate Salon
Amano Chocolate
Nicole Lee
SLO Down Wines

East Oakland Thai: Old Weang Ping (don't blow it up)

Old Weang Ping is overgrown with ivy and tropical plastic flowers. Wood birds suspend from the ceiling, mismatched string lights adorn the walls, and a cascading alter to an orange-cloaked meditation guru greets you at the doorway. But here my normal gag reaction to clutter doesn't kick in. In fact, the palm thatch booths, the tiny window that peaks into the kitchen, the easy, beachside paced service and yes, the chachki exude the feeling that somewhere along I-580 E we exited and ended up at a Phuket hideaway.

This tiny restaurant sits next to an apartment building on MacArthur and 62nd, it's both out of place and yet completely at home in its quirkiness. A husband and wife tag team the kitchen and floor, and for the duration of your stay in what feels like their converted home you submit to their pace and their rules. Survive the hurdles- a locked front door, a timely wait to order, flavorless tea (in glasses that cater to your play-pretend pimp desires) and you'll make it to what's anything but quirky, their seriously good food.

The menu is a black and white photocopy underneath the glass top of our table. Half of it is handwritten, the subheads are in old English (pimp cups, pimp font!), and the prices are all under $7.25. Specials up on the chalkboard range a little more. Aside from your standard appetizers and sides like satay and papaya salad, you'll also find a  barbarian soup, seafood cucumber salad, three different kind of cakes, and a fruit drink (it's not a juice, it's a fruit drink).  But for the most part the menu works as so: pick a protein ranging from duck to catfish and pick a sauce (curry, peanut, sweet basil, etc.) Or for the vegetarians, pick three veggies and pick a sauce. If there's a chili pepper next to the sauce believe it means you'll get a little sweat on the brow. 

Our dishes appeared one by one, the pad see ew with more flavor than normal, the green curry with major bite, and the heaping basket of sticky rice provoking an urge to ask for a lifetime supply to go. Fire-loving friends don't neglect the salsa. 

For those of you who don't have a copy of the Berkeley High Slang Dictionary, the term referenced in the title of this post, "don't blow it up" means don't go running and tell all your hipster friends about this place. As we bid goodbye and promises of good reviews the owner called out, "noooo, no more yelp! Too many good reviews!" with a weary smile on his face. Which I can only interpret as, this is a family restaurant with happy regulars and a slow flow of new customers, and we don't want to overwhelm the service (which is also the kitchen and the management). Come here quietly and come with an appetite. 


Got the travel bug?
Old Weang Ping, 6217 MacArthur Blvd, Oakland
They do take out! 
Phone: (510) 430-8771