Why Lake Merritt’s Street Food Scene Is Worth Saving
Meet the Bay Area Rappers Who Want You to Eat a Salad
Asian Food Is Coming to Save a Mall Near You
The Presidio Burger King Was My Childhood Happy Place
How I Fell in Love With the Oyster, One of the Bay Area’s Great Multicultural Treats
Why My Nail Tech Is My Favorite Bay Area Foodie
The Best Filipino Restaurant in the Bay Area Isn’t a Restaurant at All
The Downtown San Francisco I Loved Was a Holiday Wonderland
The Old-School San Francisco Sandwich That Stole My Heart
As a Filipino American, Dungeness Crab Was Part of My OG San Francisco Childhood
A Food Altar for My Mom, Who Taught Me to Love to Eat
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"content": "\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 4.6875em;float: left;line-height: 0.733em;padding: 0.05em 0.1em 0 0;font-family: times, serif, georgia\">F\u003c/span>or more than a decade, I’ve had the same Sunday morning routine: wake up, slap on some sunscreen, and head down to \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/lake-merritt\">Lake Merritt\u003c/a> to do my 5K. The vibe is more laid-back than it is on Saturdays — dads pushing strollers, moms enjoying their lattes, the scent of meat grilling over open coals. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>When I get to the eastern stretch of the lake, I see dozens of vendors. One sets up a stand for barbecued oysters. Another has brought a special machine for Korean-style shaved ice. Dozens of others sell jewelry, clothing and visual art. One artist paints neighborhoods of corrugated tin roofs on actual corrugated tin — miniature landscapes familiar to the many immigrants who now call Oakland home.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>This informal gathering is one of Oakland’s largest regular street vendor markets. None of the tables are manned by fancy chefs or trendy boutiques. Most of the vendors are Black or brown — just regular working-class folks hustling to make a living. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>But lately, the city has cracked down on these vendors, snuffing out some of Lake Merritt’s family barbecue feeling. After a 2024 Juneteenth shooting in which 15 people were wounded, officials moved to limit large gatherings. This past 4th of July, the city fenced off the main arteries around the lake to deter crowds. Then, later in July, a vendor was arrested for selling alcohol to minors during an undercover sting. The arrest caused the vendor to \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">lose her vehicle\u003c/a> and rendered her homeless. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Customers and passersby stand in front of a lakeside food tent.\" class=\"wp-image-13994232\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">On weekends, vendors selling food, jewelry and art set up all along the eastern shore of Lake Merritt. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>The crackdown has gone beyond the street vendors by the lake. This past May, Oakland police officers were filmed destroying food vendors’ storage coolers in Fruitvale and downtown. One vendor, who asked not to be identified, told me she believed she was singled out because, in a separate incident, she’d testified against the city.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\u003cstrong>Vendors push back\u003c/strong>\u003c/h2>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>For its part, the City of Oakland maintains it’s simply making sure everyone follows the rules. In a July press release, the Oakland Police Department stated that “OPD will continue to partner with EWD [Economic and Workforce Development] and other agencies to address unpermitted and unlawful activities, to ensure Oakland remains safe for residents and visitors.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Nearly every vendor I spoke to agreed that selling alcohol to minors is wrong. They also say they’ve felt disproportionately targeted all summer long, and that police \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DdFvsebG0OR/?img_index=1\">shouldn’t have the right to destroy vendor property\u003c/a>. Especially in light of 2018’s \u003ca href=\"https://alcl.assembly.ca.gov/sites/alcl.assembly.ca.gov/files/SB%20946%20analysis.pdf\">Safe Sidewalk Vending Act\u003c/a>, which is supposed to decriminalize street vending in the state of California.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A woman seated inside her food tent. The sign behind her reads, "Lumpia Ladies."\" class=\"wp-image-13994236\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Lumpia Ladies owner Anita Miralles, aka Needa Bee, watches people walk by her food stall at Lake Merritt. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Now, the vendors are \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">suing the city of Oakland\u003c/a>. Led by Anita Miralles (aka Needa Bee) of the Lumpia Ladies pop-up, nearly 90 vendors have come together to form what they’re calling the \u003ca href=\"https://510day.org/vendors-collective\">Oakland Street Vendor Collective\u003c/a>. During an August rally Miralles organized, the vendors protested police harassment and, as they argue in their \u003ca href=\"https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TutOFE7JllzFsPsACkapA7NoA-JWYPTF/view?usp=sharing\">lawsuit\u003c/a>, the “summary destruction of property of street vendors in Oakland.”\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>For regulars like me, Sundays at Lake Merritt don’t feel dangerous. They’re for friends around a fire pit and lazy stretches on strewn picnic blankets. At busy times, you’ll walk away with more samples than at your local Costco: a bit of banana pudding here, a little shaved ice there.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>And if you’re lucky, you’ll snag a “likkle” plastic sampler cup overflowing with jerk oxtail and corn on the cob — all on the house thanks to Brent Hunte, the Guyanese chef-owner of \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">Jerk’n It\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Plastic takeout carton piled high with oxtails, corn on the cob, and mac and cheese.\" class=\"wp-image-13994522\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">A plate of oxtails, corn and macaroni and cheese from the Jerk’n It food stand. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\u003cstrong>Lake Merritt’s oxtail king\u003c/strong> \u003c/h2>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Seven years ago, Hunte quit his job as a manager at Walmart. He started his own business the old-fashioned way: walking the entire lake and handing out free samples, driven by the love for his culture and passion for its cuisine.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“I couldn’t find no Caribbean food,” he recalls of the years after he immigrated here from Guyana as a child. “If you go to New York, the culture there is big, but not in California.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Hunte is especially passionate about jerk. The Guyanese style has its own unique spices, Hunte explains. Unlike Jamaican jerk, it’s cooked over an open flame instead of inside a drum.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Ultimately, Hunte’s desire to share his culture carried him through the lengthy process of trying to obtain a legal permit to sell food in Oakland. The first time he applied for a permit for his food trailer, he says, no one from the city notified him to let him know he’d been approved. He’d paid $1,000 to apply. By the time he found out, the permit had already expired. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1.jpg\" alt=\"A chef in an outdoor food tent plates up a dish of food.\" class=\"wp-image-13994239\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte serving customers on a sunny late-summer afternoon. His business, Jerk’n It, is one of Lake Merritt’s most popular food stands. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“Some people got approved in a month, and others are still waiting,” he says of the bureaucratic process. “Can you quit on yourself just because of the runaround they’re giving you?”\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Vending at Lake Merritt saved him. In 2020, at the peak of COVID shutdowns, the Lake was one of the only places where people could gather in large numbers. Those weekend markets allowed Hunte to thrive.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\u003cp>These days, whenever Hunte has a large event, he wakes up at 4 a.m. and heads to his commissary kitchen in San Leandro to prep 100 pounds of oxtails, along with his other signature favorites: jerk chicken, jerk salmon, rice and peas, plantains, stewed cabbage, and mac and cheese. The most important thing, Hunte says, is the energy he pours into his food. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“”Be in a kitchen, music playing, good vibe, good energy, and then going to the food, going to the people,” he says. “So people feel it, I’ll feel it, and the customers see it.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>As for how the food tastes, suffice it to say that my family of four fought over our takeaway container, which was stuffed to the brim with meat and sides. Naturally, the oxtails were our favorite. (I made a mental note to come by myself next time so I could tuck into the saucy meat without being uninterrupted by prying kid hands.)\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Man scooping jerk oxtails into a takeout container.\" class=\"wp-image-13994231\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte prepares a plate. His Guyanese food stand, Jerk’n It, is known for its generous portions. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Hunte knows the other vendors at the lake, and has taken it upon himself to support them through each step of the permitting process. He’s even familiar with the police officers who come by to check his paperwork, though he points out that their standards of enforcement don’t seem consistent. ”We have some Caucasian vendors out there, and they go out there, they sell coffee…and they don’t ever get bothered by the police or the city,” he observes.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>In spite of the recent confrontations with law enforcement, Lake Merritt’s collaborative spirit has pushed Hunte to keep going. Often, he’ll send customers to other businesses that have menu items he doesn’t. He even occasionally gives his jerk salmon pan drippings to a neighboring business that pours it over the grilled oysters they sell. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“When [vendors get] shut down, like now, it feels like they want to control where the people go or what the community do,” he says about the recent police interactions. “You know, we all come to the lake and we congregate. We chill, we drink, we party in a safe space. Like, you want us to go on the street and do it? I don’t get it.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1999\" height=\"1333\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Man in a bright red T-shirt (the text reads, "Jerk'n It") poses for a portrait in front of a lakeside food stand.\" class=\"wp-image-13994553\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed.jpg 1999w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1999px) 100vw, 1999px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte poses for a portrait in front of his food tent, with Lake Merritt in the background. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Hunte and other members of the collective encourage new vendors who haven’t yet gotten their paperwork sorted to attend the “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DcwgPFcEvPr/\">Permit-palooza,\u003c/a>” hosted by the City of Oakland on Oct. 8 at Frank Ogawa Plaza. It’s a rare opportunity for them to receive permit fee waivers and steep discounts on vehicle inspections. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>To Hunte, and others who continue to vend as they wait for their paperwork to be approved, Lake Merritt is one of the last places to sell their lumpia, lemonade and lunch plates to the community directly, hand over hand. It’s a freedom that’s rare these days in the Bay Area, where small businesses are already up against the region’s astronomically high real estate costs.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>But for now, Jerk’n It’s reputation as a community hub has kept Hunte in business, even as he’s once again waiting for his food trailer permit to come through. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“I used to walk the lake looking for customers, and now they come looking for me,” he says.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003chr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity\"/>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>\u003cem>The \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Jerk’n It\u003c/em>\u003c/a>\u003cem> tent typically sets up Thursday through Sunday, from around 1–7 p.m., on Lakeshore Drive in Oakland (near Cleveland Cascade). On weekends, Hunte often also posts up near Broadway and 17th Street in downtown Oakland, from 8 p.m. until late, and at the monthly First Friday event at 24th and Telegraph avenues. Follow the Jerk’n It \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Instagram page\u003c/em>\u003c/a> \u003cem>for the most up-to-date times and locations.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Rocky Rivera is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released five projects through her label, Beatrock Music — her most recent, \u003c/em>The Craft\u003cem>, dropped in October 2026.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n",
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>When I get to the eastern stretch of the lake, I see dozens of vendors. One sets up a stand for barbecued oysters. Another has brought a special machine for Korean-style shaved ice. Dozens of others sell jewelry, clothing and visual art. One artist paints neighborhoods of corrugated tin roofs on actual corrugated tin — miniature landscapes familiar to the many immigrants who now call Oakland home.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>When I get to the eastern stretch of the lake, I see dozens of vendors. One sets up a stand for barbecued oysters. Another has brought a special machine for Korean-style shaved ice. Dozens of others sell jewelry, clothing and visual art. One artist paints neighborhoods of corrugated tin roofs on actual corrugated tin — miniature landscapes familiar to the many immigrants who now call Oakland home.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>This informal gathering is one of Oakland’s largest regular street vendor markets. None of the tables are manned by fancy chefs or trendy boutiques. Most of the vendors are Black or brown — just regular working-class folks hustling to make a living. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>This informal gathering is one of Oakland’s largest regular street vendor markets. None of the tables are manned by fancy chefs or trendy boutiques. Most of the vendors are Black or brown — just regular working-class folks hustling to make a living. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>But lately, the city has cracked down on these vendors, snuffing out some of Lake Merritt’s family barbecue feeling. After a 2024 Juneteenth shooting in which 15 people were wounded, officials moved to limit large gatherings. This past 4th of July, the city fenced off the main arteries around the lake to deter crowds. Then, later in July, a vendor was arrested for selling alcohol to minors during an undercover sting. The arrest caused the vendor to \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">lose her vehicle\u003c/a> and rendered her homeless. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>But lately, the city has cracked down on these vendors, snuffing out some of Lake Merritt’s family barbecue feeling. After a 2024 Juneteenth shooting in which 15 people were wounded, officials moved to limit large gatherings. This past 4th of July, the city fenced off the main arteries around the lake to deter crowds. Then, later in July, a vendor was arrested for selling alcohol to minors during an undercover sting. The arrest caused the vendor to \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">lose her vehicle\u003c/a> and rendered her homeless. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Customers and passersby stand in front of a lakeside food tent.\" class=\"wp-image-13994232\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 992px) min(100vw, 1536px), (min-width: 768px) min(100vw, 1280px), min(100vw, 1020px)\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">On weekends, vendors selling food, jewelry and art set up all along the eastern shore of Lake Merritt.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n",
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"\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Customers and passersby stand in front of a lakeside food tent.\" class=\"wp-image-13994232\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">On weekends, vendors selling food, jewelry and art set up all along the eastern shore of Lake Merritt.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>The crackdown has gone beyond the street vendors by the lake. This past May, Oakland police officers were filmed destroying food vendors’ storage coolers in Fruitvale and downtown. One vendor, who asked not to be identified, told me she believed she was singled out because, in a separate incident, she’d testified against the city.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>The crackdown has gone beyond the street vendors by the lake. This past May, Oakland police officers were filmed destroying food vendors’ storage coolers in Fruitvale and downtown. One vendor, who asked not to be identified, told me she believed she was singled out because, in a separate incident, she’d testified against the city.\u003c/p>\n"
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"text": "Vendors push back",
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003ch2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\u003cstrong>Vendors push back\u003c/strong>\u003c/h2>\n",
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"\n\u003ch2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\u003cstrong>Vendors push back\u003c/strong>\u003c/h2>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>For its part, the City of Oakland maintains it’s simply making sure everyone follows the rules. In a July press release, the Oakland Police Department stated that “OPD will continue to partner with EWD [Economic and Workforce Development] and other agencies to address unpermitted and unlawful activities, to ensure Oakland remains safe for residents and visitors.” \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>For its part, the City of Oakland maintains it’s simply making sure everyone follows the rules. In a July press release, the Oakland Police Department stated that “OPD will continue to partner with EWD [Economic and Workforce Development] and other agencies to address unpermitted and unlawful activities, to ensure Oakland remains safe for residents and visitors.” \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Nearly every vendor I spoke to agreed that selling alcohol to minors is wrong. They also say they’ve felt disproportionately targeted all summer long, and that police \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DdFvsebG0OR/?img_index=1\">shouldn’t have the right to destroy vendor property\u003c/a>. Especially in light of 2018’s \u003ca href=\"https://alcl.assembly.ca.gov/sites/alcl.assembly.ca.gov/files/SB%20946%20analysis.pdf\">Safe Sidewalk Vending Act\u003c/a>, which is supposed to decriminalize street vending in the state of California.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Nearly every vendor I spoke to agreed that selling alcohol to minors is wrong. They also say they’ve felt disproportionately targeted all summer long, and that police \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DdFvsebG0OR/?img_index=1\">shouldn’t have the right to destroy vendor property\u003c/a>. Especially in light of 2018’s \u003ca href=\"https://alcl.assembly.ca.gov/sites/alcl.assembly.ca.gov/files/SB%20946%20analysis.pdf\">Safe Sidewalk Vending Act\u003c/a>, which is supposed to decriminalize street vending in the state of California.\u003c/p>\n"
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"srcset": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w",
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A woman seated inside her food tent. The sign behind her reads, "Lumpia Ladies."\" class=\"wp-image-13994236\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 992px) min(100vw, 1536px), (min-width: 768px) min(100vw, 1280px), min(100vw, 1020px)\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Lumpia Ladies owner Anita Miralles, aka Needa Bee, watches people walk by her food stall at Lake Merritt.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n",
"innerContent": [
"\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A woman seated inside her food tent. The sign behind her reads, "Lumpia Ladies."\" class=\"wp-image-13994236\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Lumpia Ladies owner Anita Miralles, aka Needa Bee, watches people walk by her food stall at Lake Merritt.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Now, the vendors are \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">suing the city of Oakland\u003c/a>. Led by Anita Miralles (aka Needa Bee) of the Lumpia Ladies pop-up, nearly 90 vendors have come together to form what they’re calling the \u003ca href=\"https://510day.org/vendors-collective\">Oakland Street Vendor Collective\u003c/a>. During an August rally Miralles organized, the vendors protested police harassment and, as they argue in their \u003ca href=\"https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TutOFE7JllzFsPsACkapA7NoA-JWYPTF/view?usp=sharing\">lawsuit\u003c/a>, the “summary destruction of property of street vendors in Oakland.”\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Now, the vendors are \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">suing the city of Oakland\u003c/a>. Led by Anita Miralles (aka Needa Bee) of the Lumpia Ladies pop-up, nearly 90 vendors have come together to form what they’re calling the \u003ca href=\"https://510day.org/vendors-collective\">Oakland Street Vendor Collective\u003c/a>. During an August rally Miralles organized, the vendors protested police harassment and, as they argue in their \u003ca href=\"https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TutOFE7JllzFsPsACkapA7NoA-JWYPTF/view?usp=sharing\">lawsuit\u003c/a>, the “summary destruction of property of street vendors in Oakland.”\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>For regulars like me, Sundays at Lake Merritt don’t feel dangerous. They’re for friends around a fire pit and lazy stretches on strewn picnic blankets. At busy times, you’ll walk away with more samples than at your local Costco: a bit of banana pudding here, a little shaved ice there.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>For regulars like me, Sundays at Lake Merritt don’t feel dangerous. They’re for friends around a fire pit and lazy stretches on strewn picnic blankets. At busy times, you’ll walk away with more samples than at your local Costco: a bit of banana pudding here, a little shaved ice there.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>And if you’re lucky, you’ll snag a “likkle” plastic sampler cup overflowing with jerk oxtail and corn on the cob — all on the house thanks to Brent Hunte, the Guyanese chef-owner of \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">Jerk’n It\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>And if you’re lucky, you’ll snag a “likkle” plastic sampler cup overflowing with jerk oxtail and corn on the cob — all on the house thanks to Brent Hunte, the Guyanese chef-owner of \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">Jerk’n It\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Plastic takeout carton piled high with oxtails, corn on the cob, and mac and cheese.\" class=\"wp-image-13994522\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 992px) min(100vw, 1536px), (min-width: 768px) min(100vw, 1280px), min(100vw, 1020px)\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">A plate of oxtails, corn and macaroni and cheese from the Jerk’n It food stand.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n",
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"\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Plastic takeout carton piled high with oxtails, corn on the cob, and mac and cheese.\" class=\"wp-image-13994522\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">A plate of oxtails, corn and macaroni and cheese from the Jerk’n It food stand.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n"
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"text": "Lake Merritt’s oxtail king ",
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003ch2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\u003cstrong>Lake Merritt’s oxtail king\u003c/strong> \u003c/h2>\n",
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Seven years ago, Hunte quit his job as a manager at Walmart. He started his own business the old-fashioned way: walking the entire lake and handing out free samples, driven by the love for his culture and passion for its cuisine.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Seven years ago, Hunte quit his job as a manager at Walmart. He started his own business the old-fashioned way: walking the entire lake and handing out free samples, driven by the love for his culture and passion for its cuisine.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>“I couldn’t find no Caribbean food,” he recalls of the years after he immigrated here from Guyana as a child. “If you go to New York, the culture there is big, but not in California.” \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>“I couldn’t find no Caribbean food,” he recalls of the years after he immigrated here from Guyana as a child. “If you go to New York, the culture there is big, but not in California.” \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Hunte is especially passionate about jerk. The Guyanese style has its own unique spices, Hunte explains. Unlike Jamaican jerk, it’s cooked over an open flame instead of inside a drum.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Hunte is especially passionate about jerk. The Guyanese style has its own unique spices, Hunte explains. Unlike Jamaican jerk, it’s cooked over an open flame instead of inside a drum.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Ultimately, Hunte’s desire to share his culture carried him through the lengthy process of trying to obtain a legal permit to sell food in Oakland. The first time he applied for a permit for his food trailer, he says, no one from the city notified him to let him know he’d been approved. He’d paid $1,000 to apply. By the time he found out, the permit had already expired. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Ultimately, Hunte’s desire to share his culture carried him through the lengthy process of trying to obtain a legal permit to sell food in Oakland. The first time he applied for a permit for his food trailer, he says, no one from the city notified him to let him know he’d been approved. He’d paid $1,000 to apply. By the time he found out, the permit had already expired. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1.jpg\" alt=\"A chef in an outdoor food tent plates up a dish of food.\" class=\"wp-image-13994239\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 992px) min(100vw, 1536px), (min-width: 768px) min(100vw, 1280px), min(100vw, 1020px)\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte serving customers on a sunny late-summer afternoon. His business, Jerk’n It, is one of Lake Merritt’s most popular food stands.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n",
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>“Some people got approved in a month, and others are still waiting,” he says of the bureaucratic process. “Can you quit on yourself just because of the runaround they’re giving you?”\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>“Some people got approved in a month, and others are still waiting,” he says of the bureaucratic process. “Can you quit on yourself just because of the runaround they’re giving you?”\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Vending at Lake Merritt saved him. In 2020, at the peak of COVID shutdowns, the Lake was one of the only places where people could gather in large numbers. Those weekend markets allowed Hunte to thrive.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Vending at Lake Merritt saved him. In 2020, at the peak of COVID shutdowns, the Lake was one of the only places where people could gather in large numbers. Those weekend markets allowed Hunte to thrive.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>These days, whenever Hunte has a large event, he wakes up at 4 a.m. and heads to his commissary kitchen in San Leandro to prep 100 pounds of oxtails, along with his other signature favorites: jerk chicken, jerk salmon, rice and peas, plantains, stewed cabbage, and mac and cheese. The most important thing, Hunte says, is the energy he pours into his food. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>These days, whenever Hunte has a large event, he wakes up at 4 a.m. and heads to his commissary kitchen in San Leandro to prep 100 pounds of oxtails, along with his other signature favorites: jerk chicken, jerk salmon, rice and peas, plantains, stewed cabbage, and mac and cheese. The most important thing, Hunte says, is the energy he pours into his food. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>“”Be in a kitchen, music playing, good vibe, good energy, and then going to the food, going to the people,” he says. “So people feel it, I’ll feel it, and the customers see it.” \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>“”Be in a kitchen, music playing, good vibe, good energy, and then going to the food, going to the people,” he says. “So people feel it, I’ll feel it, and the customers see it.” \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>As for how the food tastes, suffice it to say that my family of four fought over our takeaway container, which was stuffed to the brim with meat and sides. Naturally, the oxtails were our favorite. (I made a mental note to come by myself next time so I could tuck into the saucy meat without being uninterrupted by prying kid hands.)\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>As for how the food tastes, suffice it to say that my family of four fought over our takeaway container, which was stuffed to the brim with meat and sides. Naturally, the oxtails were our favorite. (I made a mental note to come by myself next time so I could tuck into the saucy meat without being uninterrupted by prying kid hands.)\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Man scooping jerk oxtails into a takeout container.\" class=\"wp-image-13994231\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 992px) min(100vw, 1536px), (min-width: 768px) min(100vw, 1280px), min(100vw, 1020px)\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte prepares a plate. His Guyanese food stand, Jerk’n It, is known for its generous portions.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n",
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"\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Man scooping jerk oxtails into a takeout container.\" class=\"wp-image-13994231\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte prepares a plate. His Guyanese food stand, Jerk’n It, is known for its generous portions.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Hunte knows the other vendors at the lake, and has taken it upon himself to support them through each step of the permitting process. He’s even familiar with the police officers who come by to check his paperwork, though he points out that their standards of enforcement don’t seem consistent. ”We have some Caucasian vendors out there, and they go out there, they sell coffee…and they don’t ever get bothered by the police or the city,” he observes.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Hunte knows the other vendors at the lake, and has taken it upon himself to support them through each step of the permitting process. He’s even familiar with the police officers who come by to check his paperwork, though he points out that their standards of enforcement don’t seem consistent. ”We have some Caucasian vendors out there, and they go out there, they sell coffee…and they don’t ever get bothered by the police or the city,” he observes.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>In spite of the recent confrontations with law enforcement, Lake Merritt’s collaborative spirit has pushed Hunte to keep going. Often, he’ll send customers to other businesses that have menu items he doesn’t. He even occasionally gives his jerk salmon pan drippings to a neighboring business that pours it over the grilled oysters they sell. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>In spite of the recent confrontations with law enforcement, Lake Merritt’s collaborative spirit has pushed Hunte to keep going. Often, he’ll send customers to other businesses that have menu items he doesn’t. He even occasionally gives his jerk salmon pan drippings to a neighboring business that pours it over the grilled oysters they sell. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>“When [vendors get] shut down, like now, it feels like they want to control where the people go or what the community do,” he says about the recent police interactions. “You know, we all come to the lake and we congregate. We chill, we drink, we party in a safe space. Like, you want us to go on the street and do it? I don’t get it.” \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>“When [vendors get] shut down, like now, it feels like they want to control where the people go or what the community do,” he says about the recent police interactions. “You know, we all come to the lake and we congregate. We chill, we drink, we party in a safe space. Like, you want us to go on the street and do it? I don’t get it.” \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Man in a bright red T-shirt (the text reads, "Jerk'n It") poses for a portrait in front of a lakeside food stand.\" class=\"wp-image-13994553\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed.jpg 1999w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(min-width: 992px) min(100vw, 1536px), (min-width: 768px) min(100vw, 1280px), min(100vw, 1020px)\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte poses for a portrait in front of his food tent, with Lake Merritt in the background.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n",
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"\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Man in a bright red T-shirt (the text reads, "Jerk'n It") poses for a portrait in front of a lakeside food stand.\" class=\"wp-image-13994553\"/>\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte poses for a portrait in front of his food tent, with Lake Merritt in the background.\u003ccite class=\"wp-inline-image-credit\"> (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>Hunte and other members of the collective encourage new vendors who haven’t yet gotten their paperwork sorted to attend the “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DcwgPFcEvPr/\">Permit-palooza,\u003c/a>” hosted by the City of Oakland on Oct. 8 at Frank Ogawa Plaza. It’s a rare opportunity for them to receive permit fee waivers and steep discounts on vehicle inspections. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>Hunte and other members of the collective encourage new vendors who haven’t yet gotten their paperwork sorted to attend the “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DcwgPFcEvPr/\">Permit-palooza,\u003c/a>” hosted by the City of Oakland on Oct. 8 at Frank Ogawa Plaza. It’s a rare opportunity for them to receive permit fee waivers and steep discounts on vehicle inspections. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>To Hunte, and others who continue to vend as they wait for their paperwork to be approved, Lake Merritt is one of the last places to sell their lumpia, lemonade and lunch plates to the community directly, hand over hand. It’s a freedom that’s rare these days in the Bay Area, where small businesses are already up against the region’s astronomically high real estate costs.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>To Hunte, and others who continue to vend as they wait for their paperwork to be approved, Lake Merritt is one of the last places to sell their lumpia, lemonade and lunch plates to the community directly, hand over hand. It’s a freedom that’s rare these days in the Bay Area, where small businesses are already up against the region’s astronomically high real estate costs.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>But for now, Jerk’n It’s reputation as a community hub has kept Hunte in business, even as he’s once again waiting for his food trailer permit to come through. \u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>But for now, Jerk’n It’s reputation as a community hub has kept Hunte in business, even as he’s once again waiting for his food trailer permit to come through. \u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>“I used to walk the lake looking for customers, and now they come looking for me,” he says.\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>“I used to walk the lake looking for customers, and now they come looking for me,” he says.\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>\u003cem>The \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Jerk’n It\u003c/em>\u003c/a>\u003cem> tent typically sets up Thursday through Sunday, from around 1–7 p.m., on Lakeshore Drive in Oakland (near Cleveland Cascade). On weekends, Hunte often also posts up near Broadway and 17th Street in downtown Oakland, from 8 p.m. until late, and at the monthly First Friday event at 24th and Telegraph avenues. Follow the Jerk’n It \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Instagram page\u003c/em>\u003c/a> \u003cem>for the most up-to-date times and locations.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>\u003cem>The \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Jerk’n It\u003c/em>\u003c/a>\u003cem> tent typically sets up Thursday through Sunday, from around 1–7 p.m., on Lakeshore Drive in Oakland (near Cleveland Cascade). On weekends, Hunte often also posts up near Broadway and 17th Street in downtown Oakland, from 8 p.m. until late, and at the monthly First Friday event at 24th and Telegraph avenues. Follow the Jerk’n It \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Instagram page\u003c/em>\u003c/a> \u003cem>for the most up-to-date times and locations.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n"
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"innerHTML": "\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Rocky Rivera is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released five projects through her label, Beatrock Music — her most recent, \u003c/em>The Craft\u003cem>, dropped in October 2026.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n",
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"\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Rocky Rivera is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released five projects through her label, Beatrock Music — her most recent, \u003c/em>The Craft\u003cem>, dropped in October 2026.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n"
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"excerpt": "Oakland's Jerk'n It, a Guyanese oxtail specialist, is one of the informal market's many success stories.",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-size: 4.6875em;float: left;line-height: 0.733em;padding: 0.05em 0.1em 0 0;font-family: times, serif, georgia\">F\u003c/span>or more than a decade, I’ve had the same Sunday morning routine: wake up, slap on some sunscreen, and head down to \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/lake-merritt\">Lake Merritt\u003c/a> to do my 5K. The vibe is more laid-back than it is on Saturdays — dads pushing strollers, moms enjoying their lattes, the scent of meat grilling over open coals. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>When I get to the eastern stretch of the lake, I see dozens of vendors. One sets up a stand for barbecued oysters. Another has brought a special machine for Korean-style shaved ice. Dozens of others sell jewelry, clothing and visual art. One artist paints neighborhoods of corrugated tin roofs on actual corrugated tin — miniature landscapes familiar to the many immigrants who now call Oakland home.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>This informal gathering is one of Oakland’s largest regular street vendor markets. None of the tables are manned by fancy chefs or trendy boutiques. Most of the vendors are Black or brown — just regular working-class folks hustling to make a living. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>But lately, the city has cracked down on these vendors, snuffing out some of Lake Merritt’s family barbecue feeling. After a 2024 Juneteenth shooting in which 15 people were wounded, officials moved to limit large gatherings. This past 4th of July, the city fenced off the main arteries around the lake to deter crowds. Then, later in July, a vendor was arrested for selling alcohol to minors during an undercover sting. The arrest caused the vendor to \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">lose her vehicle\u003c/a> and rendered her homeless. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Customers and passersby stand in front of a lakeside food tent.\" class=\"wp-image-13994232\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-05-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">On weekends, vendors selling food, jewelry and art set up all along the eastern shore of Lake Merritt. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>The crackdown has gone beyond the street vendors by the lake. This past May, Oakland police officers were filmed destroying food vendors’ storage coolers in Fruitvale and downtown. One vendor, who asked not to be identified, told me she believed she was singled out because, in a separate incident, she’d testified against the city.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\u003cstrong>Vendors push back\u003c/strong>\u003c/h2>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>For its part, the City of Oakland maintains it’s simply making sure everyone follows the rules. In a July press release, the Oakland Police Department stated that “OPD will continue to partner with EWD [Economic and Workforce Development] and other agencies to address unpermitted and unlawful activities, to ensure Oakland remains safe for residents and visitors.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Nearly every vendor I spoke to agreed that selling alcohol to minors is wrong. They also say they’ve felt disproportionately targeted all summer long, and that police \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DdFvsebG0OR/?img_index=1\">shouldn’t have the right to destroy vendor property\u003c/a>. Especially in light of 2018’s \u003ca href=\"https://alcl.assembly.ca.gov/sites/alcl.assembly.ca.gov/files/SB%20946%20analysis.pdf\">Safe Sidewalk Vending Act\u003c/a>, which is supposed to decriminalize street vending in the state of California.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A woman seated inside her food tent. The sign behind her reads, "Lumpia Ladies."\" class=\"wp-image-13994236\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-23-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Lumpia Ladies owner Anita Miralles, aka Needa Bee, watches people walk by her food stall at Lake Merritt. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Now, the vendors are \u003ca href=\"https://oaklandside.org/2026/07/17/oakland-vendor-raid-lawsuit-2026/\">suing the city of Oakland\u003c/a>. Led by Anita Miralles (aka Needa Bee) of the Lumpia Ladies pop-up, nearly 90 vendors have come together to form what they’re calling the \u003ca href=\"https://510day.org/vendors-collective\">Oakland Street Vendor Collective\u003c/a>. During an August rally Miralles organized, the vendors protested police harassment and, as they argue in their \u003ca href=\"https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TutOFE7JllzFsPsACkapA7NoA-JWYPTF/view?usp=sharing\">lawsuit\u003c/a>, the “summary destruction of property of street vendors in Oakland.”\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>For regulars like me, Sundays at Lake Merritt don’t feel dangerous. They’re for friends around a fire pit and lazy stretches on strewn picnic blankets. At busy times, you’ll walk away with more samples than at your local Costco: a bit of banana pudding here, a little shaved ice there.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>And if you’re lucky, you’ll snag a “likkle” plastic sampler cup overflowing with jerk oxtail and corn on the cob — all on the house thanks to Brent Hunte, the Guyanese chef-owner of \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">Jerk’n It\u003c/a>. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Plastic takeout carton piled high with oxtails, corn on the cob, and mac and cheese.\" class=\"wp-image-13994522\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-28-MC_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">A plate of oxtails, corn and macaroni and cheese from the Jerk’n It food stand. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003ch2 class=\"wp-block-heading\">\u003cstrong>Lake Merritt’s oxtail king\u003c/strong> \u003c/h2>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Seven years ago, Hunte quit his job as a manager at Walmart. He started his own business the old-fashioned way: walking the entire lake and handing out free samples, driven by the love for his culture and passion for its cuisine.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“I couldn’t find no Caribbean food,” he recalls of the years after he immigrated here from Guyana as a child. “If you go to New York, the culture there is big, but not in California.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Hunte is especially passionate about jerk. The Guyanese style has its own unique spices, Hunte explains. Unlike Jamaican jerk, it’s cooked over an open flame instead of inside a drum.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Ultimately, Hunte’s desire to share his culture carried him through the lengthy process of trying to obtain a legal permit to sell food in Oakland. The first time he applied for a permit for his food trailer, he says, no one from the city notified him to let him know he’d been approved. He’d paid $1,000 to apply. By the time he found out, the permit had already expired. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1.jpg\" alt=\"A chef in an outdoor food tent plates up a dish of food.\" class=\"wp-image-13994239\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-08-MC-KQED-1-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte serving customers on a sunny late-summer afternoon. His business, Jerk’n It, is one of Lake Merritt’s most popular food stands. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“Some people got approved in a month, and others are still waiting,” he says of the bureaucratic process. “Can you quit on yourself just because of the runaround they’re giving you?”\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Vending at Lake Merritt saved him. In 2020, at the peak of COVID shutdowns, the Lake was one of the only places where people could gather in large numbers. Those weekend markets allowed Hunte to thrive.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\u003cp>These days, whenever Hunte has a large event, he wakes up at 4 a.m. and heads to his commissary kitchen in San Leandro to prep 100 pounds of oxtails, along with his other signature favorites: jerk chicken, jerk salmon, rice and peas, plantains, stewed cabbage, and mac and cheese. The most important thing, Hunte says, is the energy he pours into his food. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“”Be in a kitchen, music playing, good vibe, good energy, and then going to the food, going to the people,” he says. “So people feel it, I’ll feel it, and the customers see it.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>As for how the food tastes, suffice it to say that my family of four fought over our takeaway container, which was stuffed to the brim with meat and sides. Naturally, the oxtails were our favorite. (I made a mental note to come by myself next time so I could tuck into the saucy meat without being uninterrupted by prying kid hands.)\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Man scooping jerk oxtails into a takeout container.\" class=\"wp-image-13994231\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/09/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-04-MC-KQED-1536x1025.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte prepares a plate. His Guyanese food stand, Jerk’n It, is known for its generous portions. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Hunte knows the other vendors at the lake, and has taken it upon himself to support them through each step of the permitting process. He’s even familiar with the police officers who come by to check his paperwork, though he points out that their standards of enforcement don’t seem consistent. ”We have some Caucasian vendors out there, and they go out there, they sell coffee…and they don’t ever get bothered by the police or the city,” he observes.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>In spite of the recent confrontations with law enforcement, Lake Merritt’s collaborative spirit has pushed Hunte to keep going. Often, he’ll send customers to other businesses that have menu items he doesn’t. He even occasionally gives his jerk salmon pan drippings to a neighboring business that pours it over the grilled oysters they sell. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“When [vendors get] shut down, like now, it feels like they want to control where the people go or what the community do,” he says about the recent police interactions. “You know, we all come to the lake and we congregate. We chill, we drink, we party in a safe space. Like, you want us to go on the street and do it? I don’t get it.” \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cfigure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1999\" height=\"1333\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Man in a bright red T-shirt (the text reads, "Jerk'n It") poses for a portrait in front of a lakeside food stand.\" class=\"wp-image-13994553\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed.jpg 1999w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2026/10/080926-FriscoFoodies.LakeMerittFoodVendors-10-MC_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1999px) 100vw, 1999px\" />\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-element-caption\">Hunte poses for a portrait in front of his food tent, with Lake Merritt in the background. (Miles Cull/KQED)\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>Hunte and other members of the collective encourage new vendors who haven’t yet gotten their paperwork sorted to attend the “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/DcwgPFcEvPr/\">Permit-palooza,\u003c/a>” hosted by the City of Oakland on Oct. 8 at Frank Ogawa Plaza. It’s a rare opportunity for them to receive permit fee waivers and steep discounts on vehicle inspections. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>To Hunte, and others who continue to vend as they wait for their paperwork to be approved, Lake Merritt is one of the last places to sell their lumpia, lemonade and lunch plates to the community directly, hand over hand. It’s a freedom that’s rare these days in the Bay Area, where small businesses are already up against the region’s astronomically high real estate costs.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>But for now, Jerk’n It’s reputation as a community hub has kept Hunte in business, even as he’s once again waiting for his food trailer permit to come through. \u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>“I used to walk the lake looking for customers, and now they come looking for me,” he says.\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003chr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity\"/>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>\u003cem>The \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Jerk’n It\u003c/em>\u003c/a>\u003cem> tent typically sets up Thursday through Sunday, from around 1–7 p.m., on Lakeshore Drive in Oakland (near Cleveland Cascade). On weekends, Hunte often also posts up near Broadway and 17th Street in downtown Oakland, from 8 p.m. until late, and at the monthly First Friday event at 24th and Telegraph avenues. Follow the Jerk’n It \u003c/em>\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jerknit2019/\">\u003cem>Instagram page\u003c/em>\u003c/a> \u003cem>for the most up-to-date times and locations.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Rocky Rivera is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released five projects through her label, Beatrock Music — her most recent, \u003c/em>The Craft\u003cem>, dropped in October 2026.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\n\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"slug": "bay-area-healthy-rap-stunnaman02-larry-june-eat-a-salad",
"title": "Meet the Bay Area Rappers Who Want You to Eat a Salad",
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"content": "\u003cp>[dropcap]A[/dropcap]sk any San Francisco teenager from my generation what they did after school in the ’90s and it would most likely go something like this: bumming a cig off campus, splitting a super suiza from El Farolito with friends, and turning on \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13933590/california-music-channel-hip-hop-friday-andy-kawanami-chuy-gomez\">California Music Channel\u003c/a> to watch videos from local rap stars who never got love from MTV.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I felt proud of hometown heroes like RBL Posse, Messy Marv and San Quinn, who sold cassette tapes out of the trunk of their cars, making a name for themselves — and Frisco — without the backing of major record labels. Back then, much of Bay Area rap reflected the violence of the drug trade and the values of exploitative capitalism. If the music was inspirational, it was about how to be a gangster or a successful drug lord. And if someone rapped about food, it was largely as a way to woo women. “You wanna eat \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13958926/nations-burgers-pies-late-night-diner-san-pablo\">Nation’s\u003c/a>? Crab at \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13900855/garlic-noodles-sf-bay-area-iconic-foods-thanh-long-smellys\">Crustacean’s\u003c/a>?” Quinn raps on “Wassup.” “Tiger prawns, butterflied shrimp, it must be nice living like this.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These days, however, there’s a new wave of Bay Area rappers pushing a different kind of aspirational lifestyle — one that’s focused on açaí bowls, organic vegetables and physical fitness rather than a life of crime. Frisco rapper Larry June was the first to double down on this new brand of wellness hip-hop, with song lyrics that reference his own self-imposed health regimen: daily fasting until 1 p.m. followed by fresh-squeezed orange juice (made from \u003ca href=\"https://www.grammy.com/news/rapper-larry-june-interview-alchemist-the-great-escape-new-album\">35 oranges\u003c/a>, to be exact) that he might savor at a crib in \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRkKo0HhWcY\">Sausalito\u003c/a> with exquisite views and “\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaOtLwOkRow\">expensive couches\u003c/a>.” In “Dear Winter,” he raps, “Eat some blueberries in the mornin’, a little raw spinach / If you don’t know nun’ about me, you know I’m gon’ get it…move like a beast do / pulp in my orange juice.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Indeed, Larry June may be the first rapper to make “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/midnightorganicbrand/?hl=en\">Healthy & Organic\u003c/a>” his personal brand.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929276\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1024px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929276\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956.jpg\" alt=\"Larry June raps into the microphone on a big festival stage. He's wearing a bucket hat, designer sunglasses and a bandana and is smiling.\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-768x512.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Larry June performs at 2023 Rolling Loud Los Angeles at Hollywood Park Grounds on March 4, 2023, in Inglewood, California. \u003ccite>(Photo by Timothy Norris/WireImage)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But June isn’t the only Bay Area rapper advocating a healthy lifestyle. About eight years ago, “Don Toriano” Gordon of Fully Loaded decided to go vegan after \u003ca href=\"https://sf.eater.com/2023/11/27/23943793/vegan-mob-san-francisco-black-owned\">a health scare\u003c/a> related to his previous street lifestyle. Eventually, Gordon launched Vegan Mob, a plant-based soul food and barbecue food truck that quickly emerged as \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13895209/vegan-mob-oakland-mission-sf-expansion-food-truck-toriano-gordon-senor-sisig-vegano\">one of the most popular Black-owned vegan businesses\u003c/a> in the Bay. Now, he’s writing songs about his new diet, too. “I don’t want that shit if it ain’t plant-based,” he \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXLo889RZnE\">raps\u003c/a> in “Vegan Mob.” “See you gnaw that pork and steak / Wonder why you ain’t in shape.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Maybe the most outspoken member of this new wave is Jordan Gomes, aka Stunnaman02. Though Stunnaman had already had certified hits like “Big Steppin’” (which even has an official 49ers’ remix), his catchy 2024 ode to his love of leafy greens, “Eat a Salad,” is what put him in the pantheon of health-conscious Frisco rappers. In the song, Stunnaman extols the nutritious properties of fresh ingredients like “lemon, lime, honey … agave if you’re vegan.” To promote the single, he posted videos of himself performing custom verses that were essentially recipes for different salads he would prepare on camera — Asian chicken, watermelon and Tajin, and even a \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/C5m343ILmGW/\">quinoa salad \u003c/a>\u003ci>soup\u003c/i>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then, last month, Stunnaman released another healthy slap, “Veggies,” and shot the music video inside L.A. grocery stores, where he goes through the produce aisles naming the benefits of various fruits, vegetables and spices: “If I need the antioxidants, I nibble on cacao / Turmeric with the ginger it could really cleanse your bowels.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13980887\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13980887\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"College students walk on the sidewalk in front of Cali's Sports Bar.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The entrance to Cali’s Sports Bar & Kitchen in Berkeley, which features Stunnaman02’s signature salad and dressing on its menu. \u003ccite>(Gustavo Hernandez/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Now, Stunnaman has parlayed his newfound status as a hip-hop health influencer into a burgeoning side hustle. In August, he created his own signature salad at Cali’s Sports Bar in Berkeley, in collaboration with owner Wilson Wong. Made with ingredients that don’t trigger the rapper’s eczema, the salad features a choice of grilled or fried chicken, a bed of romaine lettuce and arugula, sliced onions, a custom lemon-pepper hot honey vinaigrette and a side of vegan ranch, which he loves to drizzle on top with the dressing. Stunnaman also has his own \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/big02juice/\">juice brand\u003c/a>. And he collaborates with local restaurants like Square Pie Guys, which recently released a Stunnaman-inspired “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/reel/DQDmVVgkX5q/\">salad pizza\u003c/a>.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With his black mock neck polo and pulled-back dreads, Stunnaman has the energy of a celebrity trainer, complete with the catchy mantra (“We Still Winnin’!”). He says he’s been paying attention to nutrition since he was a kid — a response to struggles with his eczema and his weight. And as the first and last person in his family to be born and raised in San Francisco, he pushes more than just healthy living. He was raised to prize “knowledge of self,” one of the seven principles of Kwanzaa and a focus of John Muir Elementary’s African cultural enrichment program.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“All the children my age [who went to John Muir], majority melanated children, we’re learning about not just the knowledge of self, but the history of Africa. We had to call all our elders ‘auntie’ or ‘uncle,’” he recalls.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While attending St. Mary’s College, he traced his genealogy four generations back on his mother’s side, finding Narragansett Native American ancestry as well as Angolan by way of Cape Verde. After seeing a picture of his Native maternal great-grandfather, Stunnaman was pleased to find his ancestor was also Black, just like him. He credits his mother and grandmother for instilling that pride in him, breathing affirmations into his everyday life that he now pays forward in his raps.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In fact, Stunnaman believes he’s been “sent here from another dimension to restore the collective equilibrium through holistic methods,” as he puts it in the intro to “Eat a Salad.” Having been raised Christian, he also credits God.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13980885\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13980885\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A fried chicken salad and a tray of chicken wings displayed on a counter.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The “Stunna Salad” and “Winnin Wings” are both part of a menu collaboration between Stunnaman02 and Cali’s Sports Bar. \u003ccite>(Gustavo Hernandez/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>You might think that with its farmers market ethos, the Bay Area would have a long history of vegetable-themed rap. But prior to the recent trend, the last time I remember hearing a rap song about salad was Dead Prez’s 2001 anthem “Be Healthy,” which, somewhat cringily, rhymed “crouton” and “futon.” Before that, “healthy rap” mostly existed in the lines of rappers who claimed the Five Percent Nation and were taught to “\u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/How_to_Eat_to_Live\">eat to live\u003c/a>” by Elijah Muhammad’s book series of the same name, which promotes vegetarianism and avoiding pork and processed foods. These teachings deeply influenced rappers like KRS-One, Rakim and Poor Righteous Teachers. In the ’90s, A Tribe Called Quest’s “Ham n Eggs” rails about the high-cholesterol soul food diets their grannies raised them on, and how difficult it was to make better food choices. It was my first time seeing that kind of health-focused pushback in hip-hop lyrics. But this was mostly all on the East Coast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13955802,arts_13907726,arts_13921079']\u003c/span>Meanwhile, Berkeley and San Francisco were at the forefront of the natural food movement, going back to the hippie counterculture and “back to the land” movements of the ’70s. When Alice Waters opened Chez Panisse in Berkeley in 1971, it helped kick off a national farm-to-table movement that crowned Northern California the mecca of healthy food. Eating organic, biking and yoga all became part of the region’s political and moral identity. And the Black Panthers’ \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13867337/the-black-panther-partys-free-breakfast-program-a-50-year-old-blueprint\">Free Breakfast Program\u003c/a> emphasized the importance of children eating a healthy breakfast — especially if they lived in a low-income neighborhood. For whatever reason, though, not much of these food politics were reflected in the early years of Bay Area hip-hop.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In any case, Stunnaman, who’s 31, admits that he didn’t listen to much rap during its “Golden Age.” “No shade to no Frisco rappers, but I ain’t really listen to rap music until I was like eight or nine,” he says. Instead, he’d request the Disney Channel or Michael Jackson whenever he had the chance.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Still, he pays homage: “If it wasn’t for RBL Posse, it wasn’t for Cellski, there would be no ‘Big Steppin’.’ What’s reflected in Stunnaman’s music, then, is a rich tapestry of his experience, and a community-minded focus. He really does want his people to eat healthier and take better care of themselves.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Slowly but surely, his message seems to be making a difference. On the day of our meeting, Stunnaman was getting ready to shoot a collab video with the popular food influencer Michael Torres, aka GrubwithMike.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“When his song ‘Eat a Salad’ came out, I thought [Stunnaman] was talking to me,” Torres says, explaining how he’d struggled with his weight — and how Stunnaman’s music helped inspire him to change his diet. Now, he says, “If I wasn’t doing foodie stuff, I’d damn near be a vegan. Like, I’d be super healthy, bro.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13980883\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13980883\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A Black man, shirtless besides a blue and red superhero cape, poses with a fierce expression while holding a bowl of salad.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Stunnaman02 has made salad and personal fitness his personal brand — and a big part of his community-minded message. \u003ccite>(Gustavo Hernandez/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“The OGs are either locked up or they are unfortunately on drugs. With that being the case, we’ve got to help them,” Stunnaman says, pointing out the consequences of poor lifestyle decisions by some elders in the Black community. “That’s why we got Larry June. Because we’ve seen what it was. We’ve seen the product of when you don’t have any discipline with the intake of your vices.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Speaking of vices, when I finally sat down to try Stunnaman’s signature salad, I opted for the grilled chicken instead of the fried cutlets or wing combo I typically order, inspired by our conversation about making better choices. I poured the tangy, caper-flecked dressing all over my lettuce, dabbing a little ranch on there like Stunnaman suggested. With all that good health advice, it didn’t hurt to make it taste good too. Sometimes the medicine goes down better with a little song and dance on the side.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Rocky Rivera is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album, \u003c/em>Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024. She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>, in 2021.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">A\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>sk any San Francisco teenager from my generation what they did after school in the ’90s and it would most likely go something like this: bumming a cig off campus, splitting a super suiza from El Farolito with friends, and turning on \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13933590/california-music-channel-hip-hop-friday-andy-kawanami-chuy-gomez\">California Music Channel\u003c/a> to watch videos from local rap stars who never got love from MTV.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I felt proud of hometown heroes like RBL Posse, Messy Marv and San Quinn, who sold cassette tapes out of the trunk of their cars, making a name for themselves — and Frisco — without the backing of major record labels. Back then, much of Bay Area rap reflected the violence of the drug trade and the values of exploitative capitalism. If the music was inspirational, it was about how to be a gangster or a successful drug lord. And if someone rapped about food, it was largely as a way to woo women. “You wanna eat \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13958926/nations-burgers-pies-late-night-diner-san-pablo\">Nation’s\u003c/a>? Crab at \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13900855/garlic-noodles-sf-bay-area-iconic-foods-thanh-long-smellys\">Crustacean’s\u003c/a>?” Quinn raps on “Wassup.” “Tiger prawns, butterflied shrimp, it must be nice living like this.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These days, however, there’s a new wave of Bay Area rappers pushing a different kind of aspirational lifestyle — one that’s focused on açaí bowls, organic vegetables and physical fitness rather than a life of crime. Frisco rapper Larry June was the first to double down on this new brand of wellness hip-hop, with song lyrics that reference his own self-imposed health regimen: daily fasting until 1 p.m. followed by fresh-squeezed orange juice (made from \u003ca href=\"https://www.grammy.com/news/rapper-larry-june-interview-alchemist-the-great-escape-new-album\">35 oranges\u003c/a>, to be exact) that he might savor at a crib in \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRkKo0HhWcY\">Sausalito\u003c/a> with exquisite views and “\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaOtLwOkRow\">expensive couches\u003c/a>.” In “Dear Winter,” he raps, “Eat some blueberries in the mornin’, a little raw spinach / If you don’t know nun’ about me, you know I’m gon’ get it…move like a beast do / pulp in my orange juice.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Indeed, Larry June may be the first rapper to make “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/midnightorganicbrand/?hl=en\">Healthy & Organic\u003c/a>” his personal brand.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929276\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1024px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929276\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956.jpg\" alt=\"Larry June raps into the microphone on a big festival stage. He's wearing a bucket hat, designer sunglasses and a bandana and is smiling.\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-800x534.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/GettyImages-1471382956-768x512.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Larry June performs at 2023 Rolling Loud Los Angeles at Hollywood Park Grounds on March 4, 2023, in Inglewood, California. \u003ccite>(Photo by Timothy Norris/WireImage)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But June isn’t the only Bay Area rapper advocating a healthy lifestyle. About eight years ago, “Don Toriano” Gordon of Fully Loaded decided to go vegan after \u003ca href=\"https://sf.eater.com/2023/11/27/23943793/vegan-mob-san-francisco-black-owned\">a health scare\u003c/a> related to his previous street lifestyle. Eventually, Gordon launched Vegan Mob, a plant-based soul food and barbecue food truck that quickly emerged as \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13895209/vegan-mob-oakland-mission-sf-expansion-food-truck-toriano-gordon-senor-sisig-vegano\">one of the most popular Black-owned vegan businesses\u003c/a> in the Bay. Now, he’s writing songs about his new diet, too. “I don’t want that shit if it ain’t plant-based,” he \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXLo889RZnE\">raps\u003c/a> in “Vegan Mob.” “See you gnaw that pork and steak / Wonder why you ain’t in shape.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Maybe the most outspoken member of this new wave is Jordan Gomes, aka Stunnaman02. Though Stunnaman had already had certified hits like “Big Steppin’” (which even has an official 49ers’ remix), his catchy 2024 ode to his love of leafy greens, “Eat a Salad,” is what put him in the pantheon of health-conscious Frisco rappers. In the song, Stunnaman extols the nutritious properties of fresh ingredients like “lemon, lime, honey … agave if you’re vegan.” To promote the single, he posted videos of himself performing custom verses that were essentially recipes for different salads he would prepare on camera — Asian chicken, watermelon and Tajin, and even a \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/C5m343ILmGW/\">quinoa salad \u003c/a>\u003ci>soup\u003c/i>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Then, last month, Stunnaman released another healthy slap, “Veggies,” and shot the music video inside L.A. grocery stores, where he goes through the produce aisles naming the benefits of various fruits, vegetables and spices: “If I need the antioxidants, I nibble on cacao / Turmeric with the ginger it could really cleanse your bowels.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13980887\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13980887\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"College students walk on the sidewalk in front of Cali's Sports Bar.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250829_HEALTHYEATS_GH-8-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The entrance to Cali’s Sports Bar & Kitchen in Berkeley, which features Stunnaman02’s signature salad and dressing on its menu. \u003ccite>(Gustavo Hernandez/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Now, Stunnaman has parlayed his newfound status as a hip-hop health influencer into a burgeoning side hustle. In August, he created his own signature salad at Cali’s Sports Bar in Berkeley, in collaboration with owner Wilson Wong. Made with ingredients that don’t trigger the rapper’s eczema, the salad features a choice of grilled or fried chicken, a bed of romaine lettuce and arugula, sliced onions, a custom lemon-pepper hot honey vinaigrette and a side of vegan ranch, which he loves to drizzle on top with the dressing. Stunnaman also has his own \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/big02juice/\">juice brand\u003c/a>. And he collaborates with local restaurants like Square Pie Guys, which recently released a Stunnaman-inspired “\u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/reel/DQDmVVgkX5q/\">salad pizza\u003c/a>.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With his black mock neck polo and pulled-back dreads, Stunnaman has the energy of a celebrity trainer, complete with the catchy mantra (“We Still Winnin’!”). He says he’s been paying attention to nutrition since he was a kid — a response to struggles with his eczema and his weight. And as the first and last person in his family to be born and raised in San Francisco, he pushes more than just healthy living. He was raised to prize “knowledge of self,” one of the seven principles of Kwanzaa and a focus of John Muir Elementary’s African cultural enrichment program.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“All the children my age [who went to John Muir], majority melanated children, we’re learning about not just the knowledge of self, but the history of Africa. We had to call all our elders ‘auntie’ or ‘uncle,’” he recalls.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While attending St. Mary’s College, he traced his genealogy four generations back on his mother’s side, finding Narragansett Native American ancestry as well as Angolan by way of Cape Verde. After seeing a picture of his Native maternal great-grandfather, Stunnaman was pleased to find his ancestor was also Black, just like him. He credits his mother and grandmother for instilling that pride in him, breathing affirmations into his everyday life that he now pays forward in his raps.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In fact, Stunnaman believes he’s been “sent here from another dimension to restore the collective equilibrium through holistic methods,” as he puts it in the intro to “Eat a Salad.” Having been raised Christian, he also credits God.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13980885\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13980885\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A fried chicken salad and a tray of chicken wings displayed on a counter.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0016_GH-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The “Stunna Salad” and “Winnin Wings” are both part of a menu collaboration between Stunnaman02 and Cali’s Sports Bar. \u003ccite>(Gustavo Hernandez/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>You might think that with its farmers market ethos, the Bay Area would have a long history of vegetable-themed rap. But prior to the recent trend, the last time I remember hearing a rap song about salad was Dead Prez’s 2001 anthem “Be Healthy,” which, somewhat cringily, rhymed “crouton” and “futon.” Before that, “healthy rap” mostly existed in the lines of rappers who claimed the Five Percent Nation and were taught to “\u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/How_to_Eat_to_Live\">eat to live\u003c/a>” by Elijah Muhammad’s book series of the same name, which promotes vegetarianism and avoiding pork and processed foods. These teachings deeply influenced rappers like KRS-One, Rakim and Poor Righteous Teachers. In the ’90s, A Tribe Called Quest’s “Ham n Eggs” rails about the high-cholesterol soul food diets their grannies raised them on, and how difficult it was to make better food choices. It was my first time seeing that kind of health-focused pushback in hip-hop lyrics. But this was mostly all on the East Coast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>Meanwhile, Berkeley and San Francisco were at the forefront of the natural food movement, going back to the hippie counterculture and “back to the land” movements of the ’70s. When Alice Waters opened Chez Panisse in Berkeley in 1971, it helped kick off a national farm-to-table movement that crowned Northern California the mecca of healthy food. Eating organic, biking and yoga all became part of the region’s political and moral identity. And the Black Panthers’ \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13867337/the-black-panther-partys-free-breakfast-program-a-50-year-old-blueprint\">Free Breakfast Program\u003c/a> emphasized the importance of children eating a healthy breakfast — especially if they lived in a low-income neighborhood. For whatever reason, though, not much of these food politics were reflected in the early years of Bay Area hip-hop.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In any case, Stunnaman, who’s 31, admits that he didn’t listen to much rap during its “Golden Age.” “No shade to no Frisco rappers, but I ain’t really listen to rap music until I was like eight or nine,” he says. Instead, he’d request the Disney Channel or Michael Jackson whenever he had the chance.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Still, he pays homage: “If it wasn’t for RBL Posse, it wasn’t for Cellski, there would be no ‘Big Steppin’.’ What’s reflected in Stunnaman’s music, then, is a rich tapestry of his experience, and a community-minded focus. He really does want his people to eat healthier and take better care of themselves.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Slowly but surely, his message seems to be making a difference. On the day of our meeting, Stunnaman was getting ready to shoot a collab video with the popular food influencer Michael Torres, aka GrubwithMike.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“When his song ‘Eat a Salad’ came out, I thought [Stunnaman] was talking to me,” Torres says, explaining how he’d struggled with his weight — and how Stunnaman’s music helped inspire him to change his diet. Now, he says, “If I wasn’t doing foodie stuff, I’d damn near be a vegan. Like, I’d be super healthy, bro.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13980883\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13980883\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A Black man, shirtless besides a blue and red superhero cape, poses with a fierce expression while holding a bowl of salad.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/09/250822_STUNNAMAN02_-0001_GH-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Stunnaman02 has made salad and personal fitness his personal brand — and a big part of his community-minded message. \u003ccite>(Gustavo Hernandez/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“The OGs are either locked up or they are unfortunately on drugs. With that being the case, we’ve got to help them,” Stunnaman says, pointing out the consequences of poor lifestyle decisions by some elders in the Black community. “That’s why we got Larry June. Because we’ve seen what it was. We’ve seen the product of when you don’t have any discipline with the intake of your vices.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Speaking of vices, when I finally sat down to try Stunnaman’s signature salad, I opted for the grilled chicken instead of the fried cutlets or wing combo I typically order, inspired by our conversation about making better choices. I poured the tangy, caper-flecked dressing all over my lettuce, dabbing a little ranch on there like Stunnaman suggested. With all that good health advice, it didn’t hurt to make it taste good too. Sometimes the medicine goes down better with a little song and dance on the side.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Rocky Rivera is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album, \u003c/em>Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024. She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>, in 2021.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"slug": "asian-food-bay-area-malls-jagalchi-serramonte-stonestown-westfield-valley-fair",
"title": "Asian Food Is Coming to Save a Mall Near You",
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"headTitle": "Asian Food Is Coming to Save a Mall Near You | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cp>[dropcap]F[/dropcap]rom the 1990s golden age of suburban sprawl, one Bay Area mall remains iconic among \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/filipino\">Filipino\u003c/a> Americans: Serramonte Center in Daly City, aka “Serra-Manila.” Throwback to ‘94, when Jocelyn Enriquez dominated 106.1 KMEL airwaves with her freestyle track “I’ve Been Thinking About You” — the first Pinay from my generation to make it on the radio — and Serramonte was the place to go back-to-school shopping, ask for someone’s pager number, or hard-launch a budding romance by simply holding hands in public.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a time before cell phones and GPS, if you got lost, you always met up at the fountain in the center of the mall, which was so powerful, it gushed up to the skylight like Old Faithful every half hour. During the busy holiday season, \u003ca href=\"https://www.tiktok.com/@danes_panes/video/7472969415697403182?_r=1&_t=ZP-8wuJkYr1Lqh\">it provided a resting place for tired shoppers and grandparents\u003c/a> looking to entertain the kids with a shiny nickel and a wish or two.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But nostalgia couldn’t save Serramonte Center. The reality is that malls all over America have been dying for the past 25 years — pummeled by the Great Recession of 2008, mortally wounded by the rise of e-commerce via Amazon. For many of the Bay Area’s struggling malls, the pandemic was their swan song. At Serramonte, when the big box stores like Macy’s and Montgomery Ward started falling like dominoes, it was only a matter of time before the Spencer’s Gifts and Contempo Casuals followed suit. So, for years now, instead of packs of teens roaming the corridors, the mall has sat mostly empty. Its once-popular restaurants, like \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfgate.com/food/history/article/This-Bay-Area-pizza-chain-rose-to-fame-in-the-16378714.php\">Pizza and Pipes\u003c/a> and Elephant Bar or the nearby Peppermill, fell by the wayside.\u003c/p>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\u003cp>In 2017, the owners even hired consultants to redesign the mall based on feng shui principles, replacing the fountain with Zen-like koi ponds and live turtles on lily pads. None of it made much of a difference.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976955\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976955\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED.jpg\" alt='Entrance to a fancy new Korean grocery store. The sign reads, \"Jagalchi.\"' width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Jagalchi’s arrival marks the beginning of a new — and much more Asian — chapter for Serramonte Center. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Now, Serramonte Center is hoping to pivot in the same direction as the small handful of Bay Area malls that \u003ci>are\u003c/i> still thriving: It’s going all in on Asian food. Earlier this spring the mall welcomed \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jagalchi_official/?hl=en\">Jagalchi\u003c/a>, a glitzy Korean supermarket named after a famous fish market in Busan, sparking long lines in the spot where JCPenney once stood. And for the first time in a long time, it looked like there was hope for Serramonte to plot a comeback.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Malls all over the Bay Area – and \u003ca href=\"https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/asian-malls-us-are-thriving-post-pandemic-bucking-retail-trend-rcna96276\">down in Southern California too\u003c/a> — have followed this same playbook. Stonestown Galleria on the west side of SF was the first place where I noticed it. While the retail apocalypse decimated other malls in the greater San Francisco region, from San Bruno’s ghost town Tanforan Mall to the COVID-crippled San Francisco Centre on Market Street, Stonestown has seen \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/opinion/article/sf-stonestown-asian-americans-18507747.php\">a resurgence\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976966\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976966\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Shopping carts bunched up at the entrance to a grocery store.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Shopping carts at the entrance to Jagalchi. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>How did it do it? For starters, when the once-beloved Olive Garden and Chevys moved out, Stonestown didn’t replace them with other similarly generic chain restaurants. Instead, it began to welcome unique Asian specialty shops that served Japanese soufflé pancakes, fresh-made udon and Taiwanese fruit teas. It even added a revolving sushi bar, complete with robot servers, to warp you to Tokyo without the need for a passport. Not only did these new restaurants provide a draw, but the long lines and limited hours at places like Matcha Cafe Maiko gave an air of exclusivity that captured shoppers’ attention.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With Asian Americans composing a third of San Francisco’s population, and thanks to Stonestown’s prime location between the Sunset District and SF State, the pivot worked. And we’ve seen other malls follow the same formula: These days, San Jose’s Westfield Valley Fair — probably the most successful mall in the Bay Area — consists almost entirely of restaurants and retail shops geared toward Asian Americans.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976960\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976960\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Shoppers inside an upscale Asian bakery.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Customers shop in Jagalchi’s bakery section. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976964\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976964\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Grocery store shelves full of different varieties of instant ramen.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Many different varieties of ramen. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When I was growing up, Daly City was mainly populated by middle-class Filipino families, who I can proudly say are part of a foodie-obsessed culture. Our geographical proximity to other Asian countries means we can eat Korean BBQ, Singaporean noodles and Vietnamese pho, and wash it down with Thai iced tea — all in the course of a day. Our craving for food is international, and there is no line too long or reservation system too complicated for us to not eventually dominate. So I’m betting that Serramonte Center leaning into its Filipino customers’ insatiable appetite will be the thing that finally makes us get off our couches to pay this old-school, once-forgotten mall another visit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In March, I was invited to Jagalchi’s press preview and got to peruse the aisles sans shoppers, noting what might attract folks from all parts of the Peninsula to its mall location. Though there is no H-Mart-style food court, the supermarket does have a Michelin-pedigreed restaurant onsite and a deli section that offers plenty of samples to try. Each area of the supermarket was spacious, with entire sections dedicated to specialty products that would be relegated to the one “ethnic” aisle at your local Safeway. It wasn’t like Pacific Super on Alemany (RIP), with its cramped aisles and pervasive fishy smell — that was actually my comfort zone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976957\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976957\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A shopper reaches for a package of Kewpie mayonnaise on the grocery store shelf.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author reaches for a package of Kewpie mayonnaise. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976963\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976963\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Packaged grilled eel lunchbox from an Asian grocery store.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1265\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-800x506.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-1020x645.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-160x101.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-768x486.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-1536x972.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-1920x1214.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Grilled eel dupbap, one of the many prepared meals sold at Jagalchi’s deli section. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>I stuffed my face with free kimbap and bulgogi samples like only an SF public school kid could. Meanwhile, the special press dinner at the sit-down restaurant, POGU, left much to be desired (it was all cold!). So I planned on coming back when Jagalchi was actually open to see how the rest of the mall fared in comparison.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13956683,arts_13974308,arts_13939383']\u003c/span>A couple weekends ago, I pulled up to Serramonte’s food court parking lot and slowly made my way toward the other side of the mall, where Jagalchi was. What I noticed were more and more Asian food businesses I hadn’t seen before. First, I grabbed a still-warm madeleine muffin from Uncle Tetsu, which specializes in Japanese cheesecakes. To its right, a sign advertised the Izumi revolving sushi bar, coming soon. And as I reached the once-famous fountain, I saw it had been replaced by a mochi donut stand, what was left of the fountain now reduced to a mere trickle. The mall is now also home to the Taiwanese bakery chain 85C, a Korean hot dog kiosk and a stand selling trendy Dubai chocolate strawberry cups. And in the mall’s southern wing, where Jagalchi is housed, I was greeted by a huge billboard for the much-heralded Koi Palace dim sum restaurant, which is moving its flagship from its Gellert Boulevard location to the mall next year, nearly doubling its seating capacity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In short, Serramonte’s Asian pivot is already well underway.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even on a regular weekend, Jagalchi was still bustling in comparison to the rest of Serramonte, and for now, foot traffic doesn’t seem to have increased much. Only time will tell if new businesses like the dim sum palace and the revolving sushi restaurant will draw customers to the rest of the mall, the way Stonestown’s specialty food court has.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976959\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976959\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A woman sits in a mall foot court holding a madeleine cake.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author tries a madeleine from Uncle Tetsu, a Japanese bakery specializing in cheesecake. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>One thing I did miss was the makeshift Sari Sari store that once stood where the mochi donut spot is now — a quaint Filipino snack stand in the center of the mall. With all the new Asian businesses moving in, none of them seem to cater specifically to the Filipino community. Moving forward, it would be nice to see some Fil-Am restaurants or dessert shops geared toward those day-one supporters.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nostalgia aside, it’s clear that at least in the Bay Area, Asian Americans may be one of the last demographics that still loves going to the mall. That shouldn’t come as a surprise. After all, they know how to do malls overseas in Asia, where the air-conditioned mega-complexes and adjoining grocers (and even \u003ca href=\"https://sg.news.yahoo.com/eat-pray-shop-philippines-embraces-mall-worshipping-203010484.html?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAB4A6PUvwqrEZsafK5zrckx99_8qlCUvh_kgR1GxXOKUk147gpiBiujysUm7v9waCCnOaZDTfYB3TEj-jwICJnETE9yxSPXVegjjiwes-P-mbcaIHJZDFgBpe9d9NXUBEuzKRwzeki7AKVIEOXCvIWy8HSmcEr4FM6tlrB9XBwS6\">churches\u003c/a>!) are designed to be a one-stop shop. So this Asian food renaissance seems to be the key to bringing people back to the mall, entire families in tow.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The other day I came across an \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6UECwqRuaf/?igsh=NjZiM2M3MzIxNA%3D%3D\">Instagram video about Serramonte Center\u003c/a> that ran down the Asian Dad fashion you can find there, harking back to the mall’s heyday as \u003cem>the\u003c/em> place to be for Filipinos like me. I was happy to be reminded that Serramonte will always have a place in Bay Area lore. May it be restored once again to its former glory — fountain be damned.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album,\u003c/em> Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024\u003c/em>.\u003cem> She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">F\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>rom the 1990s golden age of suburban sprawl, one Bay Area mall remains iconic among \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/filipino\">Filipino\u003c/a> Americans: Serramonte Center in Daly City, aka “Serra-Manila.” Throwback to ‘94, when Jocelyn Enriquez dominated 106.1 KMEL airwaves with her freestyle track “I’ve Been Thinking About You” — the first Pinay from my generation to make it on the radio — and Serramonte was the place to go back-to-school shopping, ask for someone’s pager number, or hard-launch a budding romance by simply holding hands in public.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a time before cell phones and GPS, if you got lost, you always met up at the fountain in the center of the mall, which was so powerful, it gushed up to the skylight like Old Faithful every half hour. During the busy holiday season, \u003ca href=\"https://www.tiktok.com/@danes_panes/video/7472969415697403182?_r=1&_t=ZP-8wuJkYr1Lqh\">it provided a resting place for tired shoppers and grandparents\u003c/a> looking to entertain the kids with a shiny nickel and a wish or two.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But nostalgia couldn’t save Serramonte Center. The reality is that malls all over America have been dying for the past 25 years — pummeled by the Great Recession of 2008, mortally wounded by the rise of e-commerce via Amazon. For many of the Bay Area’s struggling malls, the pandemic was their swan song. At Serramonte, when the big box stores like Macy’s and Montgomery Ward started falling like dominoes, it was only a matter of time before the Spencer’s Gifts and Contempo Casuals followed suit. So, for years now, instead of packs of teens roaming the corridors, the mall has sat mostly empty. Its once-popular restaurants, like \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfgate.com/food/history/article/This-Bay-Area-pizza-chain-rose-to-fame-in-the-16378714.php\">Pizza and Pipes\u003c/a> and Elephant Bar or the nearby Peppermill, fell by the wayside.\u003c/p>\n\u003cdiv class=\"mceTemp\">\u003c/div>\n\u003cp>In 2017, the owners even hired consultants to redesign the mall based on feng shui principles, replacing the fountain with Zen-like koi ponds and live turtles on lily pads. None of it made much of a difference.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976955\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976955\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED.jpg\" alt='Entrance to a fancy new Korean grocery store. The sign reads, \"Jagalchi.\"' width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-1-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Jagalchi’s arrival marks the beginning of a new — and much more Asian — chapter for Serramonte Center. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Now, Serramonte Center is hoping to pivot in the same direction as the small handful of Bay Area malls that \u003ci>are\u003c/i> still thriving: It’s going all in on Asian food. Earlier this spring the mall welcomed \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/jagalchi_official/?hl=en\">Jagalchi\u003c/a>, a glitzy Korean supermarket named after a famous fish market in Busan, sparking long lines in the spot where JCPenney once stood. And for the first time in a long time, it looked like there was hope for Serramonte to plot a comeback.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Malls all over the Bay Area – and \u003ca href=\"https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/asian-malls-us-are-thriving-post-pandemic-bucking-retail-trend-rcna96276\">down in Southern California too\u003c/a> — have followed this same playbook. Stonestown Galleria on the west side of SF was the first place where I noticed it. While the retail apocalypse decimated other malls in the greater San Francisco region, from San Bruno’s ghost town Tanforan Mall to the COVID-crippled San Francisco Centre on Market Street, Stonestown has seen \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/opinion/article/sf-stonestown-asian-americans-18507747.php\">a resurgence\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976966\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976966\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Shopping carts bunched up at the entrance to a grocery store.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-49-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Shopping carts at the entrance to Jagalchi. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>How did it do it? For starters, when the once-beloved Olive Garden and Chevys moved out, Stonestown didn’t replace them with other similarly generic chain restaurants. Instead, it began to welcome unique Asian specialty shops that served Japanese soufflé pancakes, fresh-made udon and Taiwanese fruit teas. It even added a revolving sushi bar, complete with robot servers, to warp you to Tokyo without the need for a passport. Not only did these new restaurants provide a draw, but the long lines and limited hours at places like Matcha Cafe Maiko gave an air of exclusivity that captured shoppers’ attention.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>With Asian Americans composing a third of San Francisco’s population, and thanks to Stonestown’s prime location between the Sunset District and SF State, the pivot worked. And we’ve seen other malls follow the same formula: These days, San Jose’s Westfield Valley Fair — probably the most successful mall in the Bay Area — consists almost entirely of restaurants and retail shops geared toward Asian Americans.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976960\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976960\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Shoppers inside an upscale Asian bakery.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-26-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Customers shop in Jagalchi’s bakery section. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976964\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976964\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Grocery store shelves full of different varieties of instant ramen.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-43-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Many different varieties of ramen. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When I was growing up, Daly City was mainly populated by middle-class Filipino families, who I can proudly say are part of a foodie-obsessed culture. Our geographical proximity to other Asian countries means we can eat Korean BBQ, Singaporean noodles and Vietnamese pho, and wash it down with Thai iced tea — all in the course of a day. Our craving for food is international, and there is no line too long or reservation system too complicated for us to not eventually dominate. So I’m betting that Serramonte Center leaning into its Filipino customers’ insatiable appetite will be the thing that finally makes us get off our couches to pay this old-school, once-forgotten mall another visit.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In March, I was invited to Jagalchi’s press preview and got to peruse the aisles sans shoppers, noting what might attract folks from all parts of the Peninsula to its mall location. Though there is no H-Mart-style food court, the supermarket does have a Michelin-pedigreed restaurant onsite and a deli section that offers plenty of samples to try. Each area of the supermarket was spacious, with entire sections dedicated to specialty products that would be relegated to the one “ethnic” aisle at your local Safeway. It wasn’t like Pacific Super on Alemany (RIP), with its cramped aisles and pervasive fishy smell — that was actually my comfort zone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976957\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976957\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A shopper reaches for a package of Kewpie mayonnaise on the grocery store shelf.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-7-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author reaches for a package of Kewpie mayonnaise. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976963\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976963\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Packaged grilled eel lunchbox from an Asian grocery store.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1265\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-800x506.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-1020x645.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-160x101.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-768x486.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-1536x972.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-38-KQED-1920x1214.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Grilled eel dupbap, one of the many prepared meals sold at Jagalchi’s deli section. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>I stuffed my face with free kimbap and bulgogi samples like only an SF public school kid could. Meanwhile, the special press dinner at the sit-down restaurant, POGU, left much to be desired (it was all cold!). So I planned on coming back when Jagalchi was actually open to see how the rest of the mall fared in comparison.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>A couple weekends ago, I pulled up to Serramonte’s food court parking lot and slowly made my way toward the other side of the mall, where Jagalchi was. What I noticed were more and more Asian food businesses I hadn’t seen before. First, I grabbed a still-warm madeleine muffin from Uncle Tetsu, which specializes in Japanese cheesecakes. To its right, a sign advertised the Izumi revolving sushi bar, coming soon. And as I reached the once-famous fountain, I saw it had been replaced by a mochi donut stand, what was left of the fountain now reduced to a mere trickle. The mall is now also home to the Taiwanese bakery chain 85C, a Korean hot dog kiosk and a stand selling trendy Dubai chocolate strawberry cups. And in the mall’s southern wing, where Jagalchi is housed, I was greeted by a huge billboard for the much-heralded Koi Palace dim sum restaurant, which is moving its flagship from its Gellert Boulevard location to the mall next year, nearly doubling its seating capacity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In short, Serramonte’s Asian pivot is already well underway.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even on a regular weekend, Jagalchi was still bustling in comparison to the rest of Serramonte, and for now, foot traffic doesn’t seem to have increased much. Only time will tell if new businesses like the dim sum palace and the revolving sushi restaurant will draw customers to the rest of the mall, the way Stonestown’s specialty food court has.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13976959\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13976959\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A woman sits in a mall foot court holding a madeleine cake.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/06/20250531_FRISCOFOODIESASIANFOOD_GC-17-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author tries a madeleine from Uncle Tetsu, a Japanese bakery specializing in cheesecake. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>One thing I did miss was the makeshift Sari Sari store that once stood where the mochi donut spot is now — a quaint Filipino snack stand in the center of the mall. With all the new Asian businesses moving in, none of them seem to cater specifically to the Filipino community. Moving forward, it would be nice to see some Fil-Am restaurants or dessert shops geared toward those day-one supporters.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nostalgia aside, it’s clear that at least in the Bay Area, Asian Americans may be one of the last demographics that still loves going to the mall. That shouldn’t come as a surprise. After all, they know how to do malls overseas in Asia, where the air-conditioned mega-complexes and adjoining grocers (and even \u003ca href=\"https://sg.news.yahoo.com/eat-pray-shop-philippines-embraces-mall-worshipping-203010484.html?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAB4A6PUvwqrEZsafK5zrckx99_8qlCUvh_kgR1GxXOKUk147gpiBiujysUm7v9waCCnOaZDTfYB3TEj-jwICJnETE9yxSPXVegjjiwes-P-mbcaIHJZDFgBpe9d9NXUBEuzKRwzeki7AKVIEOXCvIWy8HSmcEr4FM6tlrB9XBwS6\">churches\u003c/a>!) are designed to be a one-stop shop. So this Asian food renaissance seems to be the key to bringing people back to the mall, entire families in tow.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The other day I came across an \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6UECwqRuaf/?igsh=NjZiM2M3MzIxNA%3D%3D\">Instagram video about Serramonte Center\u003c/a> that ran down the Asian Dad fashion you can find there, harking back to the mall’s heyday as \u003cem>the\u003c/em> place to be for Filipinos like me. I was happy to be reminded that Serramonte will always have a place in Bay Area lore. May it be restored once again to its former glory — fountain be damned.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album,\u003c/em> Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024\u003c/em>.\u003cem> She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"slug": "presidio-burger-king-tunnel-tops-trump-threats-san-francisco",
"title": "The Presidio Burger King Was My Childhood Happy Place",
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"content": "\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974316\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2560px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974316\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"View of the fog-covered Golden Gate Bridge as seen through large, arched windows.\" width=\"2560\" height=\"1935\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-scaled.jpg 2560w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-800x605.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-1020x771.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-160x121.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-768x580.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-1536x1161.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-2048x1548.jpg 2048w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-1920x1451.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2560px) 100vw, 2560px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A view of Crissy Field and the Golden Gate bridge seen through the windows of the old Burger King restaurant in the Presidio in San Francisco on Friday, June 28, 2013. The restaurant was torn down in 2018 to make way for the new Presidio Tunnel Tops park. \u003ccite>(Photo by Liz Hafalia/San Francisco Chronicle via Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/frisco-foodies\">Frisco Foodies\u003c/a> is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]A[/dropcap]s a proud millennial, there are certain foods that are intimately connected to my memories of childhood: pizza-flavored tortilla chips, sparkling fruit juices bottled like wine coolers, and Crystal Pepsi. So when I dip a salty French fry into buttermilk ranch, I’m immediately brought back to Sunday swim lessons with my sisters at the Presidio. Afterwards, our dad would take us to what must have been the \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfexaminer.com/news/beautiful-memories-of-the-presidio-s-beautiful-burger-king/article_4d6ce03e-a273-553a-a505-2f138af7169f.html\">most beautiful Burger King in the world\u003c/a>, on Doyle Drive, for what became our weekly fries-and-ranch tradition. To me, the combination was a revelation: the saltiness of the fries offset by that buttermilk tang — all while I looked through the arched windows facing the foggy Golden Gate Bridge. (In those days, the fog was ever-present, ruining summer birthday picnics and July fireworks plans.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Other times, we would spend the whole day out on the Presidio, which was still an active military base at the time. We’d drive from our home on Treasure Island across the Bay Bridge, through Broadway where I would peek through my hands at the fluorescent strip club signs, past the Palace of Fine Arts where we occasionally fed the ducks, past the Exploratorium, and through the security gates onto the base. After stopping to eat at that same Burger King, we would backtrack to pick my mom up from her job at the Letterman Army Hospital. Then we’d all go off to explore the bluffs overlooking the ocean together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All of these memories gave me a special affinity for this northwestern portion of San Francisco. I was alarmed, then, when in February the incoming Trump administration \u003ca href=\"https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/02/commencing-the-reduction-of-the-federal-bureaucracy/\">announced plans\u003c/a> to slash “unnecessary” government spending by \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/12027864/trump-moves-slash-presidio-trust-agency-runs-historic-sf-park\">all but eliminating the Presidio Trust\u003c/a>, the federal agency that has managed most of the park since 1996. When the military handed the park over to the National Park Service, the Trust set up a unique revenue model that allowed the Presidio to achieve financial independence by renting out its historic buildings — a model of federal and community partnership meant to protect the park against threats like this. In fact, the Presidio hasn’t received any funding from Congress \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/12027864/trump-moves-slash-presidio-trust-agency-runs-historic-sf-park\">since 2013\u003c/a>. Still, Presidio supporters can’t help but worry what Trump’s executive order might mean for the future of the park.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974325\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974325\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A girl playing on a metal structure at an old military fort.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-scaled.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author playing on part of the old Presidio fort when she was a child. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>What I didn’t realize when I was a kid was that it’s only in the last 30 years, since the handover, that the Presidio has been widely accessible to the general public. Back when I used to visit with my family, I was part of a special minority of City kids who got to experience the entire park for free, thanks to my dad’s service in the U.S. Navy. And according to \u003ca href=\"https://wp.presidio.gov/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/Presidio-Visitation-Data-Summary-Report_09.2022.pdf\">Presidio’s own internal visitor data\u003c/a>, as recently as 2008 the park was mostly frequented by high-income residents from the five closest zip codes in San Francisco, and only 5% were “first-time” visitors. Back then, the park’s visitor numbers fell far short of reflecting the Bay Area’s racial diversity, with a disproportionately low percentage of Black and brown visitors. The truth is, for a long time, only a privileged few were lucky enough to spend time in the Presidio — or even knew it existed at all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These days, however, the park’s diversity numbers track much closer to the overall demographics of the Bay. And new initiatives like the Presidio Tunnel Tops park, with its big play structures and grassy picnic grounds, make today’s Presidio feel even more family-friendly during a time when San Francisco as a whole has gotten \u003ca href=\"https://sfist.com/2021/08/13/san-francisco-only-got-more-childless-in-the-last-decade/\">more childless\u003c/a>. In that way, Trump’s threats are coming at a time when the park is as open and welcoming as it has ever been.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Recently I decided to bring my kids to the Presidio, hoping to help them make their own memories there. We made the same drive across the bridge and through the park’s main gates on a beautiful Sunday morning. We headed to the Yoda statue first. My partner, Bam, a Star Wars fanatic, had been hoping to pass on the love of the franchise to my six-year-old daughter. It was a fun surprise to see R2-D2 and C-3PO peeking through the office windows at LucasFilm’s Letterman Digital Arts Center, which occupies the site of the old military hospital where my mom used to work. Afterwards, we checked out Andy Goldsworthy’s public art display, \u003ca href=\"https://presidio.gov/explore/attractions/andy-goldsworthys-wood-line\">Wood Line\u003c/a>, a 1,200-foot winding tree path of reclaimed eucalyptus branches. The installation snaked uphill through the trees, and my daughter hopped atop the curving backside like she was riding a mythical beast. We spotted a great blue heron in a field near a busy street, like something right out of a Studio Ghibli movie.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974329\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974329\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A mother and her you child walk hand in hand in the woods.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-scaled.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author and her family walk along Andy Goldsworthy’s “Wood Line” installation in the Presidio. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Finally, we arrived at the Presidio Tunnel Tops. Completed in the summer of 2022 by the same firm that designed the High Line in New York, the new park reconnects two parts of the Presidio that had been separated by Doyle Drive. In order to build it, my beloved \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbBUzbAnDSY&t=63s\">Burger King had to be demolished\u003c/a>. The exact spot where the restaurant stood is now occupied by the park’s \u003ca href=\"https://www.parksconservancy.org/location/cliff-walk-presidio-tunnel-tops\">Cliff Walk\u003c/a>, where you can still experience that breathtaking Golden Gate Bridge view for free.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a busy all-gender bathroom near the entrance to the Tunnel Tops, everyone seemed completely unbothered despite the ongoing national debate over bathroom bans. I was getting major green flags from the place, with its ADA-friendly community shuttles and placards boasting about how it was a “cultural crossroads.” As we meandered downhill, we saw signs sharing the history of the Ohlone and Miwok peoples who lived on this land before the 200-year U.S. military occupation. I was surprised to find out that 400 \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/prsf/learn/historyculture/buffalo-soldiers.htm\">Buffalo Soldiers\u003c/a> were buried here, many of whom were stationed at the Presidio before being shipped overseas to fight in the little-known Philippine-American War.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974332\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974332\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A young girl in a red jacket poses for a photo with the Golden Gate Bridge visible in the background.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-scaled.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author’s six-year-old daughter poses for a photo showing off the view from the old Presidio Burger King. Now’s it’s part of the park’s Cliff Walk. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When we finished our walk at the play structures, the sun broke through and warmed us right up. My stomach was still grumbling in memory of those fries dipped in ranch, but knowing that the old Burger King was demolished for a greater good helped soften the blow.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13969477,arts_13929836,news_12027864']\u003c/span>Fortunately, the new Presidio has plenty of good things to eat as well. On the main lawn, we spotted four or five food trucks we recognized. I grabbed a couple tofu bao from Chairman Bao while my son grabbed a chicken tikka masala bowl from Curry Up Now. It was nice to have a range of healthier options even if we were eating on the go. (By summertime, the Trust plans to open a mess hall–style food court and up its food truck rotation to seven days a week.) Across the lawn was Dalida, a swanky, James Beard–acclaimed Mediterranean restaurant that opened here a couple years ago. Though I was eager to try it, I also wanted to keep San Francisco — especially this side of the city — at least somewhat affordable. As kids, we would drive through Pacific Heights playing “Which Mansion Is Mine,” but the area was never home to many families of color. Even now, I won’t be staying overnight at the Presidio Lodge anytime soon. I was happy to keep the day visit, before the fog rolled in through the eucalyptus grove and chilled the historic buildings into a haunted pallor.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974334\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn.jpg\" alt=\"A girl squats on a grassy lawn on a sunny day.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1125\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-1536x864.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-1920x1080.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The main lawn at the Presidio, where food trucks often gather. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Afterwards, as I drove back through the city the way I came, I thought about all the families like mine enjoying their Sunday in the Presidio, and how glad I was that it was no longer limited to an exceptional few who got to enjoy the park the way it was meant to be enjoyed — even if I still am one of the only City kids among my friends who knows how to swim.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even now, in the face of Trump’s executive order, I feel great relief knowing that community stewards have always worked to keep the park self-sustaining so all of us can continue to enjoy that view I hold near and dear to my heart. No matter how much the Presidio has changed since I was a kid, I consider it at least one thing San Francisco got right for its residents.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album,\u003c/em> Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024\u003c/em>.\u003cem> She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"title": "The Presidio Burger King Was My Childhood Happy Place | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974316\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2560px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974316\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"View of the fog-covered Golden Gate Bridge as seen through large, arched windows.\" width=\"2560\" height=\"1935\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-scaled.jpg 2560w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-800x605.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-1020x771.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-160x121.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-768x580.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-1536x1161.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-2048x1548.jpg 2048w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/GettyImages-1298726474-1920x1451.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2560px) 100vw, 2560px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A view of Crissy Field and the Golden Gate bridge seen through the windows of the old Burger King restaurant in the Presidio in San Francisco on Friday, June 28, 2013. The restaurant was torn down in 2018 to make way for the new Presidio Tunnel Tops park. \u003ccite>(Photo by Liz Hafalia/San Francisco Chronicle via Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/frisco-foodies\">Frisco Foodies\u003c/a> is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">A\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>s a proud millennial, there are certain foods that are intimately connected to my memories of childhood: pizza-flavored tortilla chips, sparkling fruit juices bottled like wine coolers, and Crystal Pepsi. So when I dip a salty French fry into buttermilk ranch, I’m immediately brought back to Sunday swim lessons with my sisters at the Presidio. Afterwards, our dad would take us to what must have been the \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfexaminer.com/news/beautiful-memories-of-the-presidio-s-beautiful-burger-king/article_4d6ce03e-a273-553a-a505-2f138af7169f.html\">most beautiful Burger King in the world\u003c/a>, on Doyle Drive, for what became our weekly fries-and-ranch tradition. To me, the combination was a revelation: the saltiness of the fries offset by that buttermilk tang — all while I looked through the arched windows facing the foggy Golden Gate Bridge. (In those days, the fog was ever-present, ruining summer birthday picnics and July fireworks plans.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Other times, we would spend the whole day out on the Presidio, which was still an active military base at the time. We’d drive from our home on Treasure Island across the Bay Bridge, through Broadway where I would peek through my hands at the fluorescent strip club signs, past the Palace of Fine Arts where we occasionally fed the ducks, past the Exploratorium, and through the security gates onto the base. After stopping to eat at that same Burger King, we would backtrack to pick my mom up from her job at the Letterman Army Hospital. Then we’d all go off to explore the bluffs overlooking the ocean together.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All of these memories gave me a special affinity for this northwestern portion of San Francisco. I was alarmed, then, when in February the incoming Trump administration \u003ca href=\"https://www.whitehouse.gov/presidential-actions/2025/02/commencing-the-reduction-of-the-federal-bureaucracy/\">announced plans\u003c/a> to slash “unnecessary” government spending by \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/12027864/trump-moves-slash-presidio-trust-agency-runs-historic-sf-park\">all but eliminating the Presidio Trust\u003c/a>, the federal agency that has managed most of the park since 1996. When the military handed the park over to the National Park Service, the Trust set up a unique revenue model that allowed the Presidio to achieve financial independence by renting out its historic buildings — a model of federal and community partnership meant to protect the park against threats like this. In fact, the Presidio hasn’t received any funding from Congress \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/12027864/trump-moves-slash-presidio-trust-agency-runs-historic-sf-park\">since 2013\u003c/a>. Still, Presidio supporters can’t help but worry what Trump’s executive order might mean for the future of the park.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974325\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974325\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A girl playing on a metal structure at an old military fort.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-scaled.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/vintage-presidio-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author playing on part of the old Presidio fort when she was a child. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>What I didn’t realize when I was a kid was that it’s only in the last 30 years, since the handover, that the Presidio has been widely accessible to the general public. Back when I used to visit with my family, I was part of a special minority of City kids who got to experience the entire park for free, thanks to my dad’s service in the U.S. Navy. And according to \u003ca href=\"https://wp.presidio.gov/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/Presidio-Visitation-Data-Summary-Report_09.2022.pdf\">Presidio’s own internal visitor data\u003c/a>, as recently as 2008 the park was mostly frequented by high-income residents from the five closest zip codes in San Francisco, and only 5% were “first-time” visitors. Back then, the park’s visitor numbers fell far short of reflecting the Bay Area’s racial diversity, with a disproportionately low percentage of Black and brown visitors. The truth is, for a long time, only a privileged few were lucky enough to spend time in the Presidio — or even knew it existed at all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>These days, however, the park’s diversity numbers track much closer to the overall demographics of the Bay. And new initiatives like the Presidio Tunnel Tops park, with its big play structures and grassy picnic grounds, make today’s Presidio feel even more family-friendly during a time when San Francisco as a whole has gotten \u003ca href=\"https://sfist.com/2021/08/13/san-francisco-only-got-more-childless-in-the-last-decade/\">more childless\u003c/a>. In that way, Trump’s threats are coming at a time when the park is as open and welcoming as it has ever been.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Recently I decided to bring my kids to the Presidio, hoping to help them make their own memories there. We made the same drive across the bridge and through the park’s main gates on a beautiful Sunday morning. We headed to the Yoda statue first. My partner, Bam, a Star Wars fanatic, had been hoping to pass on the love of the franchise to my six-year-old daughter. It was a fun surprise to see R2-D2 and C-3PO peeking through the office windows at LucasFilm’s Letterman Digital Arts Center, which occupies the site of the old military hospital where my mom used to work. Afterwards, we checked out Andy Goldsworthy’s public art display, \u003ca href=\"https://presidio.gov/explore/attractions/andy-goldsworthys-wood-line\">Wood Line\u003c/a>, a 1,200-foot winding tree path of reclaimed eucalyptus branches. The installation snaked uphill through the trees, and my daughter hopped atop the curving backside like she was riding a mythical beast. We spotted a great blue heron in a field near a busy street, like something right out of a Studio Ghibli movie.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974329\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974329\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A mother and her you child walk hand in hand in the woods.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-scaled.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-woods-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author and her family walk along Andy Goldsworthy’s “Wood Line” installation in the Presidio. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Finally, we arrived at the Presidio Tunnel Tops. Completed in the summer of 2022 by the same firm that designed the High Line in New York, the new park reconnects two parts of the Presidio that had been separated by Doyle Drive. In order to build it, my beloved \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbBUzbAnDSY&t=63s\">Burger King had to be demolished\u003c/a>. The exact spot where the restaurant stood is now occupied by the park’s \u003ca href=\"https://www.parksconservancy.org/location/cliff-walk-presidio-tunnel-tops\">Cliff Walk\u003c/a>, where you can still experience that breathtaking Golden Gate Bridge view for free.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In a busy all-gender bathroom near the entrance to the Tunnel Tops, everyone seemed completely unbothered despite the ongoing national debate over bathroom bans. I was getting major green flags from the place, with its ADA-friendly community shuttles and placards boasting about how it was a “cultural crossroads.” As we meandered downhill, we saw signs sharing the history of the Ohlone and Miwok peoples who lived on this land before the 200-year U.S. military occupation. I was surprised to find out that 400 \u003ca href=\"https://www.nps.gov/prsf/learn/historyculture/buffalo-soldiers.htm\">Buffalo Soldiers\u003c/a> were buried here, many of whom were stationed at the Presidio before being shipped overseas to fight in the little-known Philippine-American War.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974332\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974332\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A young girl in a red jacket poses for a photo with the Golden Gate Bridge visible in the background.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-scaled.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-bridge-view-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author’s six-year-old daughter poses for a photo showing off the view from the old Presidio Burger King. Now’s it’s part of the park’s Cliff Walk. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When we finished our walk at the play structures, the sun broke through and warmed us right up. My stomach was still grumbling in memory of those fries dipped in ranch, but knowing that the old Burger King was demolished for a greater good helped soften the blow.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>Fortunately, the new Presidio has plenty of good things to eat as well. On the main lawn, we spotted four or five food trucks we recognized. I grabbed a couple tofu bao from Chairman Bao while my son grabbed a chicken tikka masala bowl from Curry Up Now. It was nice to have a range of healthier options even if we were eating on the go. (By summertime, the Trust plans to open a mess hall–style food court and up its food truck rotation to seven days a week.) Across the lawn was Dalida, a swanky, James Beard–acclaimed Mediterranean restaurant that opened here a couple years ago. Though I was eager to try it, I also wanted to keep San Francisco — especially this side of the city — at least somewhat affordable. As kids, we would drive through Pacific Heights playing “Which Mansion Is Mine,” but the area was never home to many families of color. Even now, I won’t be staying overnight at the Presidio Lodge anytime soon. I was happy to keep the day visit, before the fog rolled in through the eucalyptus grove and chilled the historic buildings into a haunted pallor.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13974334\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13974334\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn.jpg\" alt=\"A girl squats on a grassy lawn on a sunny day.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1125\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-1020x574.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-160x90.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-1536x864.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/04/presidio-lawn-1920x1080.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The main lawn at the Presidio, where food trucks often gather. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Afterwards, as I drove back through the city the way I came, I thought about all the families like mine enjoying their Sunday in the Presidio, and how glad I was that it was no longer limited to an exceptional few who got to enjoy the park the way it was meant to be enjoyed — even if I still am one of the only City kids among my friends who knows how to swim.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Even now, in the face of Trump’s executive order, I feel great relief knowing that community stewards have always worked to keep the park self-sustaining so all of us can continue to enjoy that view I hold near and dear to my heart. No matter how much the Presidio has changed since I was a kid, I consider it at least one thing San Francisco got right for its residents.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album,\u003c/em> Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024\u003c/em>.\u003cem> She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "How I Fell in Love With the Oyster, One of the Bay Area’s Great Multicultural Treats",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n college on the weekends, a couple of friends and I used to grab a big bag of oysters from Pacific Supermarket, and a box of Coronas and Smirnoff Ice, and then we’d barbecue those bad boys up on the grill with a soy-sauce-lemon-hot-sauce mixture to drizzle over top. We weren’t picky about what kind of oysters they were or how ethically they were raised, or whether the name of the month had an “r” in it to indicate the safest season to eat them. We just loved the ritual of taking our time eating and catching up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We called ourselves the Oyster Crew, and for every perfect five we shucked, there was always one oyster that was a little too large to swallow in one bite or too full of crunchy sand in its belly. Those we half-swallowed and forced down before they’d almost re-emerge in a beer burp. But a quick fist-pound to the chest, eyes watering, and we were back in the game, ready for the next round of oysters steaming hot off the grill.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Since then, I’ve had my fair share of oysters: raw Kumamotos by the dozen in Sausalito and baked Rockefellers in New York’s Grand Central Station. I’ve eaten them fried up in cornmeal and overstuffed into a po’ boy in Oakland and, my personal favorite, char-grilled in Creole spices and butter with a golden Parmesan crust in New Orleans. I just can’t get enough of these bivalves, their briny liquor coating my taste buds as they slip whole, uninterrupted down my throat. While opining on the oyster’s characteristics could get downright, ermm, sexual, its aphrodisiac qualities are probably why it turned from a poor man’s food to a sophisticated symbol of luxury. I even remember a \u003ca href=\"https://blog.richardland.com/the-punky-brewster-episode-with-the-oysters/\">\u003ci>Punky Brewster\u003c/i> episode\u003c/a> where an oyster accidentally slipped down Punky’s dress during a fancy dinner party while she pretended to relish this rich-person delicacy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13969490\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13969490\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters.jpg\" alt=\"Grilled oysters topped with rounds of bread.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-1920x1920.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Char-grilled oysters, New Orleans style. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>After college, I whet my expensive appetite for oysters on various $1 oyster days around the Bay Area: in Berkeley at Skates on the Bay, at Woodhouse Fish Company on Tuesdays, and sitting on a dock in Oakland on a gorgeous day at Lake Chalet. These feasts taught me that I could certainly pound a dozen solo or “to the face,” and also that I would have to make more money to support this habit — especially now that rising costs have made these deals a distant memory.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Anyway, with the Oyster Crew it was always the quality of time, not the quantity of oysters eaten, that made the experience so worthwhile. And in all these years, no restaurant meal was ever quite able to recreate that feeling.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Recently, though, I finally found the perfect conditions for one of those old-school oyster roasts. On a late summer weekend, my family headed to Point Reyes National Park, to a tiny, secluded beach that only allowed 40 cars in at a time. My cousins and I wanted one last hurrah before the school year started, and since the best oysters were only a couple miles up the coast we did a potluck of our favorite dishes to complement them. The night before, I prepared a batch of my favorite \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13900855/garlic-noodles-sf-bay-area-iconic-foods-thanh-long-smellys\">San Francisco-style garlic noodles\u003c/a> and made a compound butter with Creole seasoning, minced garlic and parsley to melt over the oysters while they cooked. I bought a French baguette to slice and put on top along with a sprinkling of Pecorino cheese, to replicate those chargrilled oysters I’d loved so much in New Orleans. And to spoon over the oysters we planned on eating raw, I had a Guamanian-style finadené — made with coconut vinegar, minced Thai chilis, green onions and soy sauce — marinating in a large Mason jar in the fridge.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When we pulled up to the lot roundabout at Point Reyes, \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/forum/2010101888186/bay-area-oyster-culture-with-luke-tsai\">it was mostly Asian and Latino families\u003c/a>, and a Filipino biker gang called the Crispy Patas, who had set up big oyster picnics like ours. Like most of the Bay Area’s most famous oyster spots, the multiethnic crowd was a far cry from the mostly Caucasian-inclined demo that you might associate with your typical New England–style seaside oyster feast. I was all for it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13969491\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13969491\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square.jpg\" alt=\"A young man leans over a picnic table as he shucks oysters.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-1920x1920.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The food tastes better when you have to work for it. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Once we got out to the beach, my teenage son, Kahlil, got his first lesson in shucking oysters. “Look for the hinge,” I’d say, as he struggled through his first couple broken-shelled halves. I’ve always had the philosophy that when you have to work hard for your meal, it tastes that much better. That oyster roast aroma wafted to the edges of the beach, garnering comments from hungry strangers who passed our site and yelled, “Smells great over there!”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of all the oysters I’d devoured, I finally found a combination that I could eat happily for the rest of my life.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp style=\"text-align: center\">***\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s hard not to feel spoiled and a little bit smug when you live this close to some of the best oysters in the world. Locals and transplants alike have been feasting on them since time immemorial, or at least for as long as we could document the evidence that Indigenous peoples left behind.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Across Tomales Bay estuary is Drake’s Bay, one of the first places where the Indigenous Miwok came into contact with European settlers. It was a stop on the Manila Galleon route, a highly-guarded secret transpacific route that Spaniards charted from Acapulco and the Americas to China via the Philippines — and, for thousands of years, the coastal waters also teemed with Olympia oysters, the only species native to the West Coast. As indicated by the giant shellmounds — or ancient heaps of oyster shells — piled up around the bay, Indigenous populations, including the Miwoks and the Ohlones have been enjoying this seaside delicacy for years as a key part of their diet.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>During the Gold Rush, entrepreneurs imported Atlantic oysters from the East Coast and introduced them into the local waters, where they thrived for a number of years, serving as an inexpensive source of protein for the working class. Around this time, the Hangtown Fry — the Bay Area’s most famous oyster dish — was invented by a miner from Shirttail Bend loaded with nuggets and gold dust. As the story goes, he walked into a saloon and asked for the most expensive meal on the menu. Oysters and eggs happened to be the priciest ingredients they had on hand.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13961723,arts_13923127,forum_2010101888186']\u003c/span>The oysters most closely associated with the Bay Area today are actually Pacific oysters, like Miyagis and Kumamatos, brought over from Japan in the 1930s. Hog Island Oyster Company, the most prominent oyster farm in Tomales Bay, is known for its Pacific Sweetwaters and Kumamotos, and it’s also one of the local companies \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/11857703/san-francisco-bay-once-teemed-with-oysters-what-happened\">helping to bring back the native Olympias\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Founded by three marine biologists in 1983, the company uses ecologically friendly techniques like “off-bottom” farming to minimize the impact on seabeds and enhance water quality. (No sandy bellies for me to accidentally burp up later.) But the oysters are still affected by climate change and the acidification of the ocean, which threaten their habitats.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Given how much more expensive everything has gotten, it makes sense that we can no longer enjoy our venerated $1 oyster days, though some places like Waterbar, Mission Rock and Park Chalet in Golden Gate Park serve them at \u003ci>close\u003c/i> to that price during happy hour. And a serendipitous grocery run clued me in on the fact that Whole Foods, of all places, still sells dollar oysters at their raw bar on Fridays only — though they’ll require a little elbow grease to shuck yourself.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But even without those bargains, I’ve still enjoyed myself as an ostreaphile, delighting in the flavors only an immigrant population could introduce, like the surprising sweetness of a strawberry purée paired with chili jam and fried shallots on the dressed oyster I enjoyed at Jo’s Modern Thai in Oakland (before the \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/jos-modern-thai-turmoil-19878283.php\">original chef left\u003c/a>). Or the spicy tang of calamansi-habanero sauce on the Royal Miyagis at Abacá on Fisherman’s Wharf. When I did a poll on my Instagram Stories, people shared so many different favorite ways to eat oysters: with jeow som (what my friend calls “Cambodian crack sauce”), with a simple squeeze of lemon or fresh grated horseradish, or “fried hard like a mofo on a bistro salad.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Whether the oyster is prepared simply to highlight its “merroir” (the marine equivalent of terroir\u003ci>)\u003c/i>, or made intricate like the histories of the populations that overlapped to bring it here, it’s the perfect blank canvas to project a uniquely Bay Arean identity that people can enjoy, their way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13969492\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13969492\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square.jpg\" alt=\"A woman in sunglasses raises her arms in excitement with a platter of raw oysters on ice on the picnic table in front of her.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-1920x1920.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A dozen raw oysters at Hog Island’s Tomales Bay location. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For my birthday — as consolation for being born a winter baby — I once again feasted on local oysters to my heart’s content. Tired of waiting for \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13923127/dungeness-crab-fishing-filipino-american-treasure-island-san-francisco\">Dungeness crab\u003c/a> season to open, in true Sagittarius fashion, I took matters into my own hands and made a reservation for two at the Tomales Bay location of Hog Island Oyster Company. There was nothing fancy about the meal, but they were nice enough to give us the best seats in the house, a seaside picnic bench overlooking the pristine marshlands of the estuary, while I ate dozens of oysters that were sourced mere steps away. The spicy Calabrian chili–baked oysters at Hog Island’s Marin Mart location had stolen my heart during the previous year’s birthday celebration, but it had always been a dream of mine to see the original location — to take in the merrior that made these particular Sweetwaters so special.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13940501']\u003c/span>Not yet even noontime, I downed a dozen raw with mignonette and Tabasco, while I waited for the bourbon-chipotle barbecued oysters to arrive hot off the grill. When they did, I couldn’t get enough of the buttery sauce left at the bottom that I sopped up with bread, the slight tingle left on my lips from the chipotle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When the last grilled oyster was finished, still piping hot, we motioned the server for another dozen, an expensive decision that allowed us some more time to take in the gorgeous surroundings (no cell service to distract you!) and another steaming tray cooked to order. It was a perfect way to reflect on the year, be grateful to the land, the people who take care of it and feed us, and waterways we must sustain to enjoy future birthdays like this one.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After all, I know we’ll be back again next year, either beachin’ it up with the cousins or bringing my kids with us back to Tomales Bay next time. Those kids love oysters now too, even my six-year old, and I might have to save my pennies all year for this new iteration of the Oyster Crew.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album,\u003c/em> Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024\u003c/em>.\u003cem> She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">I\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>n college on the weekends, a couple of friends and I used to grab a big bag of oysters from Pacific Supermarket, and a box of Coronas and Smirnoff Ice, and then we’d barbecue those bad boys up on the grill with a soy-sauce-lemon-hot-sauce mixture to drizzle over top. We weren’t picky about what kind of oysters they were or how ethically they were raised, or whether the name of the month had an “r” in it to indicate the safest season to eat them. We just loved the ritual of taking our time eating and catching up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We called ourselves the Oyster Crew, and for every perfect five we shucked, there was always one oyster that was a little too large to swallow in one bite or too full of crunchy sand in its belly. Those we half-swallowed and forced down before they’d almost re-emerge in a beer burp. But a quick fist-pound to the chest, eyes watering, and we were back in the game, ready for the next round of oysters steaming hot off the grill.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Since then, I’ve had my fair share of oysters: raw Kumamotos by the dozen in Sausalito and baked Rockefellers in New York’s Grand Central Station. I’ve eaten them fried up in cornmeal and overstuffed into a po’ boy in Oakland and, my personal favorite, char-grilled in Creole spices and butter with a golden Parmesan crust in New Orleans. I just can’t get enough of these bivalves, their briny liquor coating my taste buds as they slip whole, uninterrupted down my throat. While opining on the oyster’s characteristics could get downright, ermm, sexual, its aphrodisiac qualities are probably why it turned from a poor man’s food to a sophisticated symbol of luxury. I even remember a \u003ca href=\"https://blog.richardland.com/the-punky-brewster-episode-with-the-oysters/\">\u003ci>Punky Brewster\u003c/i> episode\u003c/a> where an oyster accidentally slipped down Punky’s dress during a fancy dinner party while she pretended to relish this rich-person delicacy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13969490\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13969490\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters.jpg\" alt=\"Grilled oysters topped with rounds of bread.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/new-orleans-oysters-1920x1920.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Char-grilled oysters, New Orleans style. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>After college, I whet my expensive appetite for oysters on various $1 oyster days around the Bay Area: in Berkeley at Skates on the Bay, at Woodhouse Fish Company on Tuesdays, and sitting on a dock in Oakland on a gorgeous day at Lake Chalet. These feasts taught me that I could certainly pound a dozen solo or “to the face,” and also that I would have to make more money to support this habit — especially now that rising costs have made these deals a distant memory.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Anyway, with the Oyster Crew it was always the quality of time, not the quantity of oysters eaten, that made the experience so worthwhile. And in all these years, no restaurant meal was ever quite able to recreate that feeling.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Recently, though, I finally found the perfect conditions for one of those old-school oyster roasts. On a late summer weekend, my family headed to Point Reyes National Park, to a tiny, secluded beach that only allowed 40 cars in at a time. My cousins and I wanted one last hurrah before the school year started, and since the best oysters were only a couple miles up the coast we did a potluck of our favorite dishes to complement them. The night before, I prepared a batch of my favorite \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13900855/garlic-noodles-sf-bay-area-iconic-foods-thanh-long-smellys\">San Francisco-style garlic noodles\u003c/a> and made a compound butter with Creole seasoning, minced garlic and parsley to melt over the oysters while they cooked. I bought a French baguette to slice and put on top along with a sprinkling of Pecorino cheese, to replicate those chargrilled oysters I’d loved so much in New Orleans. And to spoon over the oysters we planned on eating raw, I had a Guamanian-style finadené — made with coconut vinegar, minced Thai chilis, green onions and soy sauce — marinating in a large Mason jar in the fridge.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When we pulled up to the lot roundabout at Point Reyes, \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/forum/2010101888186/bay-area-oyster-culture-with-luke-tsai\">it was mostly Asian and Latino families\u003c/a>, and a Filipino biker gang called the Crispy Patas, who had set up big oyster picnics like ours. Like most of the Bay Area’s most famous oyster spots, the multiethnic crowd was a far cry from the mostly Caucasian-inclined demo that you might associate with your typical New England–style seaside oyster feast. I was all for it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13969491\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13969491\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square.jpg\" alt=\"A young man leans over a picnic table as he shucks oysters.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/shucking-square-1920x1920.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The food tastes better when you have to work for it. \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Once we got out to the beach, my teenage son, Kahlil, got his first lesson in shucking oysters. “Look for the hinge,” I’d say, as he struggled through his first couple broken-shelled halves. I’ve always had the philosophy that when you have to work hard for your meal, it tastes that much better. That oyster roast aroma wafted to the edges of the beach, garnering comments from hungry strangers who passed our site and yelled, “Smells great over there!”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of all the oysters I’d devoured, I finally found a combination that I could eat happily for the rest of my life.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp style=\"text-align: center\">***\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s hard not to feel spoiled and a little bit smug when you live this close to some of the best oysters in the world. Locals and transplants alike have been feasting on them since time immemorial, or at least for as long as we could document the evidence that Indigenous peoples left behind.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Across Tomales Bay estuary is Drake’s Bay, one of the first places where the Indigenous Miwok came into contact with European settlers. It was a stop on the Manila Galleon route, a highly-guarded secret transpacific route that Spaniards charted from Acapulco and the Americas to China via the Philippines — and, for thousands of years, the coastal waters also teemed with Olympia oysters, the only species native to the West Coast. As indicated by the giant shellmounds — or ancient heaps of oyster shells — piled up around the bay, Indigenous populations, including the Miwoks and the Ohlones have been enjoying this seaside delicacy for years as a key part of their diet.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>During the Gold Rush, entrepreneurs imported Atlantic oysters from the East Coast and introduced them into the local waters, where they thrived for a number of years, serving as an inexpensive source of protein for the working class. Around this time, the Hangtown Fry — the Bay Area’s most famous oyster dish — was invented by a miner from Shirttail Bend loaded with nuggets and gold dust. As the story goes, he walked into a saloon and asked for the most expensive meal on the menu. Oysters and eggs happened to be the priciest ingredients they had on hand.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>The oysters most closely associated with the Bay Area today are actually Pacific oysters, like Miyagis and Kumamatos, brought over from Japan in the 1930s. Hog Island Oyster Company, the most prominent oyster farm in Tomales Bay, is known for its Pacific Sweetwaters and Kumamotos, and it’s also one of the local companies \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/11857703/san-francisco-bay-once-teemed-with-oysters-what-happened\">helping to bring back the native Olympias\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Founded by three marine biologists in 1983, the company uses ecologically friendly techniques like “off-bottom” farming to minimize the impact on seabeds and enhance water quality. (No sandy bellies for me to accidentally burp up later.) But the oysters are still affected by climate change and the acidification of the ocean, which threaten their habitats.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Given how much more expensive everything has gotten, it makes sense that we can no longer enjoy our venerated $1 oyster days, though some places like Waterbar, Mission Rock and Park Chalet in Golden Gate Park serve them at \u003ci>close\u003c/i> to that price during happy hour. And a serendipitous grocery run clued me in on the fact that Whole Foods, of all places, still sells dollar oysters at their raw bar on Fridays only — though they’ll require a little elbow grease to shuck yourself.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But even without those bargains, I’ve still enjoyed myself as an ostreaphile, delighting in the flavors only an immigrant population could introduce, like the surprising sweetness of a strawberry purée paired with chili jam and fried shallots on the dressed oyster I enjoyed at Jo’s Modern Thai in Oakland (before the \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/jos-modern-thai-turmoil-19878283.php\">original chef left\u003c/a>). Or the spicy tang of calamansi-habanero sauce on the Royal Miyagis at Abacá on Fisherman’s Wharf. When I did a poll on my Instagram Stories, people shared so many different favorite ways to eat oysters: with jeow som (what my friend calls “Cambodian crack sauce”), with a simple squeeze of lemon or fresh grated horseradish, or “fried hard like a mofo on a bistro salad.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Whether the oyster is prepared simply to highlight its “merroir” (the marine equivalent of terroir\u003ci>)\u003c/i>, or made intricate like the histories of the populations that overlapped to bring it here, it’s the perfect blank canvas to project a uniquely Bay Arean identity that people can enjoy, their way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13969492\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13969492\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square.jpg\" alt=\"A woman in sunglasses raises her arms in excitement with a platter of raw oysters on ice on the picnic table in front of her.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"2000\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/12/rocky-oyster-square-1920x1920.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A dozen raw oysters at Hog Island’s Tomales Bay location. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For my birthday — as consolation for being born a winter baby — I once again feasted on local oysters to my heart’s content. Tired of waiting for \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13923127/dungeness-crab-fishing-filipino-american-treasure-island-san-francisco\">Dungeness crab\u003c/a> season to open, in true Sagittarius fashion, I took matters into my own hands and made a reservation for two at the Tomales Bay location of Hog Island Oyster Company. There was nothing fancy about the meal, but they were nice enough to give us the best seats in the house, a seaside picnic bench overlooking the pristine marshlands of the estuary, while I ate dozens of oysters that were sourced mere steps away. The spicy Calabrian chili–baked oysters at Hog Island’s Marin Mart location had stolen my heart during the previous year’s birthday celebration, but it had always been a dream of mine to see the original location — to take in the merrior that made these particular Sweetwaters so special.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>Not yet even noontime, I downed a dozen raw with mignonette and Tabasco, while I waited for the bourbon-chipotle barbecued oysters to arrive hot off the grill. When they did, I couldn’t get enough of the buttery sauce left at the bottom that I sopped up with bread, the slight tingle left on my lips from the chipotle.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When the last grilled oyster was finished, still piping hot, we motioned the server for another dozen, an expensive decision that allowed us some more time to take in the gorgeous surroundings (no cell service to distract you!) and another steaming tray cooked to order. It was a perfect way to reflect on the year, be grateful to the land, the people who take care of it and feed us, and waterways we must sustain to enjoy future birthdays like this one.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>After all, I know we’ll be back again next year, either beachin’ it up with the cousins or bringing my kids with us back to Tomales Bay next time. Those kids love oysters now too, even my six-year old, and I might have to save my pennies all year for this new iteration of the Oyster Crew.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has released four albums through her label, Beatrock Music, and a ten-volume mixtape series with DJ Roza — her most recent album,\u003c/em> Long Kiss Goodnight\u003cem>, dropped in Sept. 2024\u003c/em>.\u003cem> She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "Why My Nail Tech Is My Favorite Bay Area Foodie",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]I[/dropcap] got my first set of acrylic nails at a Vietnamese-owned nail shop at the corner of Persia and Mission: They were long and slightly curved, painted a frosty royal blue and emblazoned with white airbrush flames more suited to a Monte Carlo than a manicure. In a world before touchscreen ruled our devices, I loved the clickety-clack of plastic on computer keys. It was like having tiny masterpieces on the tips of my fingers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As a lover of hip-hop streetwear, it was a necessary luxury — $20 for a full set, back then — that dressed up the baggiest of sweatpants. But going to the shop was rough. You might run into a drunk from the liquor store next door or get “hood-checked” waiting outside for your BFF to arrive on the bus. The corner was active, and the inside of the shop was even more chaotic and fraught with conflict.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961773\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-13961773\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-800x800.jpg\" alt=\"A young women with intricately designed painted nails poses for a portrait with a young man.\" width=\"800\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">On prom night, a young Rocky Rivera (right) shows off her intricately designed acrylic nails. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When there was a dispute about the cost or design, Asian service workers and their clientele sometimes lashed out at each other, and the language barrier rarely allowed the communication it takes to describe an intricate design. It was no wonder that friendships between nail techs and their customers rarely blossomed.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nowadays, I have a standing three-week appointment at Linda’s Ocean Nails on Ocean and Ashton Avenue — one I haven’t broken since the start of the pandemic, when owner Christine “Chris” Phung reopened her Ingleside district shop for her regulars, and the two of us became friends. Our relationship solidified when she recreated my favorite car’s logo: an ’87 Buick Grand National orange-and-yellow arrow that mimicked the car’s legendary turbocharged V6 engine. Since then, we’ve collaborated on the gorgeous turquoise of a San Francisco garter snake and, \u003ca href=\"https://www.google.com/maps/contrib/112733447121314366844?hl=en-US&ved=1t:31294&ictx=111\">my personal favorite\u003c/a>, a matte military desert camouflage design that matched my Air Max 1s.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Every new design becomes our new favorite until the next. And our love for San Francisco and shared background growing up here made it easy for us to get along.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I gotta like you to hold your hand for two hours,” she always tells me. It’s not often that locals like me stop on Ocean Avenue, even though it’s a main thoroughfare linking the 280 freeway entrance in Mission Terrace to the beach. The Ingleside neighborhood’s meandering stoplights, double-parked grocery trucks and heavy traffic create a stop-and-go situation that requires patience, not to mention a deft lane change from time to time. It’s not a destination, though people like Chris want to change that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957506\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957506\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A nail salon worker works on a client's nails.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Chris Phung, a nail tech for over 20 years, works on Rocky Rivera’s nails at Linda’s Ocean Nails, her salon in San Francisco’s Ingleside neighborhood. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Chris is the ultimate foodie, too, often choosing her mom’s home cooking over the myriad Vietnamese restaurants in the city. When she does eat out, it’s for specialties she can only get at some particular spot, her taste honed from her years growing up in the Sunset district. Whether it’s the latest boba spot or a hot new dumpling shop, I trust her opinion on whether it’s worth all the hype.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On sunny Monday in May, the shop is closed for the day, and Chris is only doing my nails so we can hang out afterward at her favorite places on Ocean — a privilege I never thought I’d experience with my nail tech. I pull up a photo from my nail inspo board on IG and show it to her; she laughs and tells me her sister sent the same video just the day before. It’s proof to us that we are usually on the same wavelength when it comes to trendy design choices. We settle on a snake-inspired holographic design. She carefully applies a builder gel to the length of my existing natural nail, an upgrade from the acrylic tips we started out with when I first came to the shop.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957507\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957507\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Close-up of nails being finished with a black dots on a pink design.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1354\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-800x542.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-1020x691.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-160x108.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-768x520.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-1536x1040.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-1920x1300.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">‘Every new design becomes our new favorite until the next,’ Rivera writes of her collaborative relationship with Phung. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>After we finish our set, we grab a bite across the street at Little Sweet, a Hong Kong street food eatery (not affiliated with the boba chain of the same name) that wound up closing in June. Chris had become friends with chef-owner Zoe Mak as a nail client, and Mak brought Chris dishes to test out before the business officially opened this past February.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Born and raised in Hong Kong before immigrating to the U.S. when she was 12 years old, Mak started the restaurant together with her bestie and business partner Flora Lam, a former marketing specialist whose husband is also from Hong Kong. The name, like the shop’s homemade milk tea, is “not too sweet” — the ultimate compliment for an Asian dessert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Much of the signage and menu was in Chinese, so Chris orders me her faves from Little Sweet’s menu of Hong Kong-style dishes: the curry fish balls, garlic spareribs over rice, sticky soy sauce wings and, for dessert, an interestingly chewy papaya-and-sweet-fungus dish with a texture akin to tripe. The food is somewhere between post-bar-hop late-night munchies and the kind of snacks you’d find at a boba shop. Chris orders a side of rice to pour the extra curry over — her favorite menu hack. And while Mak is in the back, Chris herself attends to customers walking in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957508\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957508\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A plate of soy-glazed and a small dish of curry.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1318\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-800x527.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-1020x672.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-160x105.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-768x506.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-1536x1012.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-1920x1265.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Curry fishballs and special honey-flavored soy sauce wings at Little Sweet. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“I think it’s really important to love your neighbor and support them,” Mak says. She wanted a cafe in the Ingleside just like the ones she grew up going to in Hong Kong. “Maybe people know more Mission, but not Ingleside. We’re a little bit lost. We’re like a mystery place for people.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the end, all the local support still couldn’t save Little Sweet. From the very beginning, the shop suffered many setbacks, including an overnight burglary that delayed its opening. It wound up closing after just four months — news that devastates Chris when she hears it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I feel that she’s so young and works so hard, and she’s so passionate about the restaurant business, you know? I just wanted to see her succeed.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961767\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13961767\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Two Asian women with long hair pose for a portrait inside a restaurant.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Zoe Mak, left, chef of Little Sweet, and her business partner Flora Lam pose for a portrait inside Little Sweet. The Ingleside restaurant closed in June 2024. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]I[/dropcap] knew Chris was like family to me when once, during a power outage, she grabbed her tools and invited me to her house. She spread a plastic tarp and did my fill-in right there on her dining room table. “Only for you, Rocky!” she said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Born in Vietnam, Chris left her birth country after the war because her father was of Chinese descent and was no longer welcome. They went from refugee camp to refugee camp, even living in the Philippines for a time, before finally coming to America.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She grew up in the Sunset district, attending Jefferson Elementary, Hoover Middle and Lincoln High before heading down the street to attend San Francisco State. “When we first came, everything was very difficult. We were on all sorts of [financial] assistance,” she recalls. Both of her parents worked at a sewing factory and were on welfare.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13959765,arts_13929836,arts_13961328']\u003c/span>Before she opened Linda’s Ocean Nails, Chris worked at another nail salon down the street for 10 years alongside her mom while also working part-time at Wells Fargo. After majoring in accounting at San Francisco State, she decided to open the nail salon instead of becoming an accountant so that her mom could work for her and get the treatment she deserved. “I came back here and I decided to run the place myself because, you know, with the language barrier, my mom’s English was not that well, and I see her struggling with the business she’s at,” she remembers. That was in 1998. Her younger sisters, Bella and Cindy, joined them later after both acquired their cosmetology licenses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the time of our meeting, her mom and dad were in Vietnam on holiday, visiting friends and family they once left behind. Though it took tremendous sacrifice for Chris to keep the salon running during the pandemic and through her sisters’ multiple maternity leaves — at one point she was the shop’s lone nail tech — she was able to raise her two kids with her husband, with one daughter graduating from Lowell High School and UC Davis, while purchasing a home in the adjacent Lakeview district.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957511\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957511\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Two women sit at a booth and sip tea inside a restaurant.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Phung and Rivera sit inside Pho Ha Tien, a Vietnamese restaurant in Ingleside. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>After our first lunch stop, we cross back over Ocean to Pho Ha Tien, the Vietnamese eatery right next to Chris’s shop, to meet owner Steve Cheng. Though I’m already pretty full, I always have room for pho, and their chicken pho broth turns out to be perfectly clear and abundantly seasoned. But the standout dish is their special five-spice chicken thigh, which comes deboned and served with rice — an easy dinner that Chris orders for her family every time her mom is out of the country.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cheng also is a City kid, graduating from Redding Elementary in the Tenderloin, Marina Middle School and a year before Chris at Lincoln High. Like Chris, he took over the family business to “semi-retire” his parents, who now come in whenever they want to help or just hang out. “You can tell them to stay home and they’re like, ‘What am I gonna do at home?’” Cheng laughs. With three kids of his own, and two in their twenties, I ask if he wants to pass the business on to them. “To be honest, I don’t want them anywhere near the restaurant business,” he responds, shaking his head.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s tough,” Chris agrees. During the pandemic, her landlord didn’t give the nail salon much of a break in rent, saying that they had bills to pay, too. It took a long nine months for her to open back up. In the case of Cheng’s restaurant, it took two months. He owed back pay, and the landlord still added the yearly rental increase. Both businesses just barely survived their hardest year to date, and it’s still unclear whether things are getting better or worse. “It is what it is, you just gotta weather through it,” says Cheng.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957512\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957512\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A spread of Vietnamese dishes, include pho, shrimp over vermicelli noodles, and grilled chicken thighs.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">From left, five-spice chicken, chicken pho and a charbroiled shrimp vermicelli bowl are some of Pho Ha Tien’s homey Vietnamese dishes. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though San Francisco allowed businesses to get out of long-term leases during the pandemic, it never gave shops like Linda’s Ocean Nails and Pho Ha Tien an incentive to stay. Once the CVS down across the street closed, Cheng noticed the decrease in foot traffic, and even more so when the Target down the block followed suit. “It’s kind of like a domino effect. You see these small businesses and it’s like, if these big franchises closed down, what chance do we have? Now every single block that you go to, there’s a minimum of three to five places shut down. You see, I can count it from here,” he says, gesturing toward the window.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Before, all three businesses were open late, and Chris would often unwind after work by ordering food and patronizing the nearby shops. There even used to be live music playing across the street. But now she takes her last client at 6:30 p.m. for safety reasons, wondering if Little Sweet’s late hours and frequent break-ins contributed to its closing. “We need mom-and-pop stores around here, especially on Ocean Ave.,” she says. But the neighborhood’s recent challenges need specialized attention from the city that goes beyond pandemic measures that many immigrant-run businesses did not take full advantage of anyway.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961768\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13961768\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Two women eating noodles with a spread of Vietnamese food on the table in front of them.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">‘I always have room for pho,’ Rivera says. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>There are some glimmers of hope on the block, however. Some places were able to pivot, like the cafe owned by two brothers that switched up to a pizza shop when business opened back up, and the jumpy house across the street that’s promoting a night market.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“A night market would be excellent. It would draw people into Ocean Ave. and let them know we exist,” Chris says. But the little things also help — like word-of-mouth from her clients and the string of lights that the city recently installed along the avenue over the holidays. “They put ’em up and it makes it feel so bright and safe and nice. Just being there all those years, those changes make a huge difference.” She wants Ingleside to be a neighborhood where residents mingle and get to know each other.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Like the Sunset, I want to be able to sit outside, drink coffee, enjoy the weather — well maybe not enjoy the weather,” she laughs, knowing she has to be realistic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Though I’m hardly around Ocean Ave. in the evenings, this day in Ingleside makes me wonder about the potential of this part of the City I love. I don’t live here or even work here, but every three weeks, I drive across the bridge and make it my destination, rain or shine. Whether it’s for a chromed-out set of reptilian talons or a delicious steaming bowl of pho, I know with Chris working her magic, I’m in good hands.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961774\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1911px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13961774\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed.jpg\" alt=\"A woman poses for a portrait in front of a sign inside her nail salon that lists the prices for various services.\" width=\"1911\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed.jpg 1911w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-800x558.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-1020x711.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-160x112.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-768x536.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-1536x1071.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1911px) 100vw, 1911px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Phung poses for a portrait inside her family-ran nail salon in Ingleside. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">I\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp> got my first set of acrylic nails at a Vietnamese-owned nail shop at the corner of Persia and Mission: They were long and slightly curved, painted a frosty royal blue and emblazoned with white airbrush flames more suited to a Monte Carlo than a manicure. In a world before touchscreen ruled our devices, I loved the clickety-clack of plastic on computer keys. It was like having tiny masterpieces on the tips of my fingers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As a lover of hip-hop streetwear, it was a necessary luxury — $20 for a full set, back then — that dressed up the baggiest of sweatpants. But going to the shop was rough. You might run into a drunk from the liquor store next door or get “hood-checked” waiting outside for your BFF to arrive on the bus. The corner was active, and the inside of the shop was even more chaotic and fraught with conflict.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961773\" class=\"wp-caption alignleft\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-13961773\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-800x800.jpg\" alt=\"A young women with intricately designed painted nails poses for a portrait with a young man.\" width=\"800\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-800x800.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-1020x1020.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-160x160.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/Burton-Sr-Prom.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">On prom night, a young Rocky Rivera (right) shows off her intricately designed acrylic nails. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When there was a dispute about the cost or design, Asian service workers and their clientele sometimes lashed out at each other, and the language barrier rarely allowed the communication it takes to describe an intricate design. It was no wonder that friendships between nail techs and their customers rarely blossomed.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Nowadays, I have a standing three-week appointment at Linda’s Ocean Nails on Ocean and Ashton Avenue — one I haven’t broken since the start of the pandemic, when owner Christine “Chris” Phung reopened her Ingleside district shop for her regulars, and the two of us became friends. Our relationship solidified when she recreated my favorite car’s logo: an ’87 Buick Grand National orange-and-yellow arrow that mimicked the car’s legendary turbocharged V6 engine. Since then, we’ve collaborated on the gorgeous turquoise of a San Francisco garter snake and, \u003ca href=\"https://www.google.com/maps/contrib/112733447121314366844?hl=en-US&ved=1t:31294&ictx=111\">my personal favorite\u003c/a>, a matte military desert camouflage design that matched my Air Max 1s.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Every new design becomes our new favorite until the next. And our love for San Francisco and shared background growing up here made it easy for us to get along.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I gotta like you to hold your hand for two hours,” she always tells me. It’s not often that locals like me stop on Ocean Avenue, even though it’s a main thoroughfare linking the 280 freeway entrance in Mission Terrace to the beach. The Ingleside neighborhood’s meandering stoplights, double-parked grocery trucks and heavy traffic create a stop-and-go situation that requires patience, not to mention a deft lane change from time to time. It’s not a destination, though people like Chris want to change that.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957506\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957506\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A nail salon worker works on a client's nails.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-2-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Chris Phung, a nail tech for over 20 years, works on Rocky Rivera’s nails at Linda’s Ocean Nails, her salon in San Francisco’s Ingleside neighborhood. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Chris is the ultimate foodie, too, often choosing her mom’s home cooking over the myriad Vietnamese restaurants in the city. When she does eat out, it’s for specialties she can only get at some particular spot, her taste honed from her years growing up in the Sunset district. Whether it’s the latest boba spot or a hot new dumpling shop, I trust her opinion on whether it’s worth all the hype.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On sunny Monday in May, the shop is closed for the day, and Chris is only doing my nails so we can hang out afterward at her favorite places on Ocean — a privilege I never thought I’d experience with my nail tech. I pull up a photo from my nail inspo board on IG and show it to her; she laughs and tells me her sister sent the same video just the day before. It’s proof to us that we are usually on the same wavelength when it comes to trendy design choices. We settle on a snake-inspired holographic design. She carefully applies a builder gel to the length of my existing natural nail, an upgrade from the acrylic tips we started out with when I first came to the shop.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957507\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957507\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Close-up of nails being finished with a black dots on a pink design.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1354\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-800x542.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-1020x691.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-160x108.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-768x520.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-1536x1040.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-3-KQED-1920x1300.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">‘Every new design becomes our new favorite until the next,’ Rivera writes of her collaborative relationship with Phung. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>After we finish our set, we grab a bite across the street at Little Sweet, a Hong Kong street food eatery (not affiliated with the boba chain of the same name) that wound up closing in June. Chris had become friends with chef-owner Zoe Mak as a nail client, and Mak brought Chris dishes to test out before the business officially opened this past February.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Born and raised in Hong Kong before immigrating to the U.S. when she was 12 years old, Mak started the restaurant together with her bestie and business partner Flora Lam, a former marketing specialist whose husband is also from Hong Kong. The name, like the shop’s homemade milk tea, is “not too sweet” — the ultimate compliment for an Asian dessert.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Much of the signage and menu was in Chinese, so Chris orders me her faves from Little Sweet’s menu of Hong Kong-style dishes: the curry fish balls, garlic spareribs over rice, sticky soy sauce wings and, for dessert, an interestingly chewy papaya-and-sweet-fungus dish with a texture akin to tripe. The food is somewhere between post-bar-hop late-night munchies and the kind of snacks you’d find at a boba shop. Chris orders a side of rice to pour the extra curry over — her favorite menu hack. And while Mak is in the back, Chris herself attends to customers walking in.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957508\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957508\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A plate of soy-glazed and a small dish of curry.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1318\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-800x527.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-1020x672.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-160x105.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-768x506.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-1536x1012.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-12-KQED-1920x1265.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Curry fishballs and special honey-flavored soy sauce wings at Little Sweet. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“I think it’s really important to love your neighbor and support them,” Mak says. She wanted a cafe in the Ingleside just like the ones she grew up going to in Hong Kong. “Maybe people know more Mission, but not Ingleside. We’re a little bit lost. We’re like a mystery place for people.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the end, all the local support still couldn’t save Little Sweet. From the very beginning, the shop suffered many setbacks, including an overnight burglary that delayed its opening. It wound up closing after just four months — news that devastates Chris when she hears it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I feel that she’s so young and works so hard, and she’s so passionate about the restaurant business, you know? I just wanted to see her succeed.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961767\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13961767\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Two Asian women with long hair pose for a portrait inside a restaurant.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-18_qed-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Zoe Mak, left, chef of Little Sweet, and her business partner Flora Lam pose for a portrait inside Little Sweet. The Ingleside restaurant closed in June 2024. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">I\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp> knew Chris was like family to me when once, during a power outage, she grabbed her tools and invited me to her house. She spread a plastic tarp and did my fill-in right there on her dining room table. “Only for you, Rocky!” she said.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Born in Vietnam, Chris left her birth country after the war because her father was of Chinese descent and was no longer welcome. They went from refugee camp to refugee camp, even living in the Philippines for a time, before finally coming to America.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She grew up in the Sunset district, attending Jefferson Elementary, Hoover Middle and Lincoln High before heading down the street to attend San Francisco State. “When we first came, everything was very difficult. We were on all sorts of [financial] assistance,” she recalls. Both of her parents worked at a sewing factory and were on welfare.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>Before she opened Linda’s Ocean Nails, Chris worked at another nail salon down the street for 10 years alongside her mom while also working part-time at Wells Fargo. After majoring in accounting at San Francisco State, she decided to open the nail salon instead of becoming an accountant so that her mom could work for her and get the treatment she deserved. “I came back here and I decided to run the place myself because, you know, with the language barrier, my mom’s English was not that well, and I see her struggling with the business she’s at,” she remembers. That was in 1998. Her younger sisters, Bella and Cindy, joined them later after both acquired their cosmetology licenses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the time of our meeting, her mom and dad were in Vietnam on holiday, visiting friends and family they once left behind. Though it took tremendous sacrifice for Chris to keep the salon running during the pandemic and through her sisters’ multiple maternity leaves — at one point she was the shop’s lone nail tech — she was able to raise her two kids with her husband, with one daughter graduating from Lowell High School and UC Davis, while purchasing a home in the adjacent Lakeview district.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957511\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957511\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Two women sit at a booth and sip tea inside a restaurant.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-20-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Phung and Rivera sit inside Pho Ha Tien, a Vietnamese restaurant in Ingleside. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>After our first lunch stop, we cross back over Ocean to Pho Ha Tien, the Vietnamese eatery right next to Chris’s shop, to meet owner Steve Cheng. Though I’m already pretty full, I always have room for pho, and their chicken pho broth turns out to be perfectly clear and abundantly seasoned. But the standout dish is their special five-spice chicken thigh, which comes deboned and served with rice — an easy dinner that Chris orders for her family every time her mom is out of the country.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Cheng also is a City kid, graduating from Redding Elementary in the Tenderloin, Marina Middle School and a year before Chris at Lincoln High. Like Chris, he took over the family business to “semi-retire” his parents, who now come in whenever they want to help or just hang out. “You can tell them to stay home and they’re like, ‘What am I gonna do at home?’” Cheng laughs. With three kids of his own, and two in their twenties, I ask if he wants to pass the business on to them. “To be honest, I don’t want them anywhere near the restaurant business,” he responds, shaking his head.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“It’s tough,” Chris agrees. During the pandemic, her landlord didn’t give the nail salon much of a break in rent, saying that they had bills to pay, too. It took a long nine months for her to open back up. In the case of Cheng’s restaurant, it took two months. He owed back pay, and the landlord still added the yearly rental increase. Both businesses just barely survived their hardest year to date, and it’s still unclear whether things are getting better or worse. “It is what it is, you just gotta weather through it,” says Cheng.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957512\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957512\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A spread of Vietnamese dishes, include pho, shrimp over vermicelli noodles, and grilled chicken thighs.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/20240506_NAILTECHFOODIE-22-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">From left, five-spice chicken, chicken pho and a charbroiled shrimp vermicelli bowl are some of Pho Ha Tien’s homey Vietnamese dishes. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though San Francisco allowed businesses to get out of long-term leases during the pandemic, it never gave shops like Linda’s Ocean Nails and Pho Ha Tien an incentive to stay. Once the CVS down across the street closed, Cheng noticed the decrease in foot traffic, and even more so when the Target down the block followed suit. “It’s kind of like a domino effect. You see these small businesses and it’s like, if these big franchises closed down, what chance do we have? Now every single block that you go to, there’s a minimum of three to five places shut down. You see, I can count it from here,” he says, gesturing toward the window.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Before, all three businesses were open late, and Chris would often unwind after work by ordering food and patronizing the nearby shops. There even used to be live music playing across the street. But now she takes her last client at 6:30 p.m. for safety reasons, wondering if Little Sweet’s late hours and frequent break-ins contributed to its closing. “We need mom-and-pop stores around here, especially on Ocean Ave.,” she says. But the neighborhood’s recent challenges need specialized attention from the city that goes beyond pandemic measures that many immigrant-run businesses did not take full advantage of anyway.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961768\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13961768\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed.jpg\" alt=\"Two women eating noodles with a spread of Vietnamese food on the table in front of them.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-25_qed-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">‘I always have room for pho,’ Rivera says. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>There are some glimmers of hope on the block, however. Some places were able to pivot, like the cafe owned by two brothers that switched up to a pizza shop when business opened back up, and the jumpy house across the street that’s promoting a night market.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“A night market would be excellent. It would draw people into Ocean Ave. and let them know we exist,” Chris says. But the little things also help — like word-of-mouth from her clients and the string of lights that the city recently installed along the avenue over the holidays. “They put ’em up and it makes it feel so bright and safe and nice. Just being there all those years, those changes make a huge difference.” She wants Ingleside to be a neighborhood where residents mingle and get to know each other.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Like the Sunset, I want to be able to sit outside, drink coffee, enjoy the weather — well maybe not enjoy the weather,” she laughs, knowing she has to be realistic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Though I’m hardly around Ocean Ave. in the evenings, this day in Ingleside makes me wonder about the potential of this part of the City I love. I don’t live here or even work here, but every three weeks, I drive across the bridge and make it my destination, rain or shine. Whether it’s for a chromed-out set of reptilian talons or a delicious steaming bowl of pho, I know with Chris working her magic, I’m in good hands.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13961774\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1911px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13961774\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed.jpg\" alt=\"A woman poses for a portrait in front of a sign inside her nail salon that lists the prices for various services.\" width=\"1911\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed.jpg 1911w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-800x558.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-1020x711.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-160x112.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-768x536.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/07/20240506_NailTechFoodie-8_qed-1536x1071.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1911px) 100vw, 1911px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Phung poses for a portrait inside her family-ran nail salon in Ingleside. \u003ccite>(Gina Castro/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem>in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"slug": "best-filipino-restaurant-oakland-tipunan-ghost-kitchen",
"title": "The Best Filipino Restaurant in the Bay Area Isn’t a Restaurant at All",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]I[/dropcap]n 1986, when my family first moved to San Francisco from Angeles City, in the Philippines, we were enamored with American fast food: seafood pizza at Shakey’s and Uno’s deep dish on Friday nights, a bucket of KFC with corn and coleslaw, and a “choco shake” from the “McDo’s” drive-thru on Gellert on the way to Lolo’s house.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But on special occasions, we would gather the family for a big Filipino feast. We’d head to Fiesta Filipina in Daly City and eat pancit palabok and lechon kawali in an upscale setting, amongst other Filipinos who longed for that sense of community. I remember shifting uncomfortably on the bamboo chairs that mirrored my own living room set at home, my mom always urging me to order the fresh young coconut juice with the red straw peeking out of its top hat, and the halo-halo for dessert. Though we usually ate these dishes at home, the experience of enjoying them out among our people was what made growing up Pinay in The City feel special.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Back then, there were so many big Filipino family restaurants to choose from. If you grew up Filipino on the Peninsula in the ’80s and ’90s, you know how to finish the vintage restaurant jingle, “Tito Rey’s…” To this day, any Gen Xer or elder Millennial worth their soy sauce will respond, “…Night or Day!” The bustling 200-seat eatery-turned-nightclub in South San Francisco, with its full bar and ballroom, accommodated the large wave of Filipinos who immigrated to the Bay Area after World War II, increasing the population fivefold. Sadly, the restaurant is no longer around, but the memories of that jingle — and a time when newly-immigrated parents like mine had a place to dine, drink and dance the night away — are burned into my brain.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13959780\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13959780\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant.jpg\" alt=\"Vintage photo of a man singing karaoke at a Filipino restaurant in the 1980s. A group of children seated at a table look on.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1372\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-800x549.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-1020x700.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-160x110.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-768x527.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-1536x1054.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-1920x1317.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A young Rocky Rivera (2nd from the right, in green) watches a karaoke singer at a restaurant in Angeles City in the Philippines during the mid-1980s. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>And as we grew older, it was South City establishments like Tito Rey’s and Solita’s that allowed my dance troupe to use their restaurant as a venue because they always had a ballroom — or, at the very least, a dance floor. It was there that I learned that a “Filipino goodbye” was the opposite of an \u003ca href=\"https://slate.com/human-interest/2023/09/irish-goodbye-exit-why-chronic-illness.html\">Irish one\u003c/a>. Kids like me would whine to their parents “Can we go now?” while they made their leisurely rounds bidding farewell.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s hard to imagine doing the same now that I’m the parent. It seems like most of today’s Filipino restaurants have either gone fine dining or fast fusion — and, in the meantime, all of those big, family-focused spots have closed. None of the new places are jumping on a Saturday night with a live cover band and couples dressed to the nines, cha-cha-ing it up to the latest hits. Those “third places” for Bay Area Filipinos have largely disappeared, even as our food has finally hit the mainstream. Few places are providing for our need to be fed \u003ci>and\u003c/i> entertained.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To be honest, not many of them are serving the kind of Filipino food I want to eat either. This upbringing of abundance made my palate sharp, discerning and always waxing nostalgic. I constantly compare the food at local Fil-Am restaurants to my own mother or grandmother’s style of cooking. And since both sides of my family hail from Pampanga, the culinary capital of the Philippines, I’m not often impressed.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957299\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957299\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Pork sisig in a plastic takeout container.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">An order of Tipunan’s pork sisig, served in a takeout container. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Until one day in 2020 when I \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">really needed a plate of comfort food\u003c/a> and found it at Tipunan in Oakland — in my opinion, the best classic Filipino food in all of the Bay Area. Deep in the throes of the pandemic, the restaurant’s rich pork belly kare-kare and tangy sinigang provided solace when I was grieving the loss of my mother, strengthening my connection to the motherland that I felt was jeopardized after her passing. And when my father-in-law passed six months after that, we put a plate of his favorite — pork sisig — on our family altar, again courtesy of Tipunan. We ate a lot of takeout during that time, with condolences offered in the form of Venmo pings and food delivery gift cards. It was the ideal consolation for the void we all felt, except for one thing: The place didn’t exist. Which is to say, it didn’t have a physical restaurant space beyond its DoorDash ordering menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp style=\"text-align: center\">***\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On a recent Friday, Chef Kai Torres-Cansino meets me in the small dining area of Oakland Food Hall, a ghost kitchen facility off East 12th, along with her partner in life and business, Jojo Cansino. They are the founders of Tipunan, which in Tagalog means “gathering place”— an irony not lost on me when I made a vow to finally track them down. Before they moved into this new space in Jingletown, there was no dine-in portion of the restaurant, just a kitchen a few blocks away off East 18th. Even now, the handful of picnic tables outside their new facility are mostly occupied by DoorDash drivers rather than actual customers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957303\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957303\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Exterior of the Oakland Food Hall ghost kitchen facility.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The exterior of Oakland Food Hall, which markets itself as a “restaurant co-op” primarily specializing in to-go meals. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Inside these ghost kitchens, Chef Kai cooks her homestyle dishes from Bicol and Pampanga, the cities in the Philippines where her mother and father grew up, respectively. These recipes were passed down from generation to generation, and growing up, she remembers experiencing them most vividly during big reunions with her father’s side of the family in Pampanga.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Have you tried my tocino?” she asks, referring to the specialty dish of sweet marinated pork. “I really love it because it’s really Kapampangan tocino.” She tells me about how she tweaked the recipe to make it taste more similar to the carabao style that’s popular in her hometown. “It’s a little bit sweet-and-sour taste but very Kapampangan. It’s so good,” she says with pride.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Growing up, she learned how to cook from her mom: first chopping tomatoes, then moving up to boiling water and, later, sautéeing and grilling. Her family owned bowling lanes in Manila and Pampanga, so they always ran a cafe on-site, giving Kai the experience to know what good food should taste like — and, more importantly, how to make it to order.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957298\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957298\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A spread of Filipino dishes includes kare-kare, a classic stew with a thick savory peanut sauce. For dining in, the Oakland Food Hall offers a handful of seats inside and several picnic tables outside — though often these are occupied by delivery app drivers. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>During this visit to Tipunan, I’ve ordered my usuals: pork rib sinigang, pork sisig, crispy pork belly kare-kare and turon, or caramelized banana lumpia, for dessert. As usual, the sinigang is perfectly sour with tamarind. The kare-kare comes with its savory peanut sauce, bok choy and cabbage kept separate from the ulam, like my Lola used to do, to prevent it from getting soggy — and of course, the crispy pork belly, which takes at least 24 hours to prepare, is spectacular. They also offer healthier tofu versions of their sisig and kare-kare, though Chef Kai stresses that she’s “not a fan of fusion.” “That’s why the food is very classic,” she says.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Serving classic Filipino food is easier said than done, as many in the diaspora are extra harsh on businesses that don’t match their taste of home cooking. Any Filipino restaurant will share the same review: “It’s good, but not as good as my Nanay’s and Lola’s.” But Tipunan’s many four- and five-star reviews on DoorDash differ, likening the chef’s cooking to their own family’s spread, a feeling that hits the heart as much as it fills the stomach.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While Chef Kai has the seasoned palate, her partner, Jojo, is the one who surprised her with a business proposal. “The idea came about because at home, I don’t do any of the cooking because I am usually busy at work,”Jojo explains. “My wife does all the cooking.” So Jojo proposed starting their own business, at first just selling Kai’s prized banana bread and then, eventually, her Filipino home cooking.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957302\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957302\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A touch screen menu for a Filipino restaurant.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">At Oakland Food Hall, food from over 20 restaurants can be ordered online or on a touchscreen. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“I have the spirit of an entrepreneur and I’ve been working for myself for, maybe, fifteen years. And [Kai] was working for a corporate food service,” Jojo recalls. She says she inherited that knack for business from her grandmother, Corazon M. Espino, the first woman governor of the Nueva Vizcaya province in the Philippines. Because she and Kai started the business during the pandemic, they prioritized starting small with a kitchen that had a low start-up cost. For a whole year, it was just the two of them working late into the night and washing dishes afterward. When they got an opportunity to relocate to Oakland Food Hall, it was the streamlined system and better access point for delivery drivers that sealed the deal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I must admit that I panicked during the time Tipunan went offline to move locations. I thought to myself that it was too good to be true, wondering about the volatility of starting their business in Oakland, which only has two other traditional Filipino restaurants in the entire city. When they finally went back online, I vowed to track down who was behind this mysterious restaurant with zero social media presence and not even a storefront to promote their business. But now, seeing Tipunan thrive amongst the other kitchens in the food hall, I have hope in this scrappy contender borne from a shared entrepreneurial spirit and love for our culture’s traditional recipes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13921079,arts_13939383,arts_13956683']\u003c/span>As I look around the massive building that houses over twenty partner restaurants in one place, I marvel at its capacity to feed the community, while also employing multiple businesses in one location. It touts itself as a “restaurant co-op” whose mission is “to become your go-to spot for to-go meal.” Inside is a maze of kitchens that are more similar to studios in Hollywood lots than actual restaurants. It’s hard to tell if these “cloud” or “ghost kitchens” are good or bad for the actual workers, but they were a necessity during the pandemic when we were all forced to stay at home indefinitely.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And since Tipunan moved in from their previous ghost kitchen in May of 2022, they’ve increased their staff to five and expanded their menu to include bulgogi tacos and burritos. “Some people lost their job and closed their restaurants during the pandemic, and we were the lucky ones because that’s when Tipunan was born,” says Kai. Unlike a full-service restaurant, they’ve been able to experiment with new items and ideas with lower risk, first introducing them to existing customers before branching out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Deep down, however, Jojo still wishes they could open a dine-in location. In fact, the couple first met at a \u003ca href=\"https://thefortsf.com/\">Filipino restaurant on the Peninsula \u003c/a>— one that still has events and live music on Saturday nights. “I want to have a space like that, where people on the weekends say, ‘Hey what are you doing? Let’s go hang out at Tipunan. Let’s get something to eat.’ And when you get there, there’s entertainment, we have fun and we create memories,” she says. The most important thing, however, is that they now have a business that’s able to support five employees. “That to me, is rewarding by itself.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957300\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957300\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt='Two Filipino women in black \"Tipunan\" shirts sit laughinh on a picnic table.' width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Founders Jojo Cansino (left) and Chef Kai Torres-Cansino sit on a picnic table outside of Tipunan’s ghost kitchen facility. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>With so many full-fledged restaurants in the Bay Area still unable to operate seven days a week, those childhood memories of being out and about eating FIlipino food with my family feel like \u003ca href=\"https://www.foundsf.org/index.php?title=DALY_CITY:_THE_NEW_FILIPINOTOWN\">ancient history\u003c/a>. Hearing elders belt out karaoke hits, their voices hoarse with raucous laughter and drowned in San Miguel beer, felt like a piece of home — except it was right there in South City. A place to find the love of your life, even, like Kai and Jojo did.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For now, I’m just grateful that a place like Tipunan exists to preserve those old recipes and to feed us during all of those important family celebrations — even if we’re laying out the takeout cartons on the dining room table at home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And, for Chef Kai, at least, the idea of running one of those big family restaurants that used to rule the Bay Area’s Filipino scene is more than a little daunting. “At this kitchen, we’re already here 12 hours a day. How much more at a dine-in to maintain the consistency and quality, and then have the entertainment and bar? I’m gonna be drunk every night!” she laughs.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://tipunan.com/\">\u003ci>Tipunan\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci> is open for \u003c/i>\u003ca href=\"https://tipunan.com/order-online\">\u003ci>online orders\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci>, with pickup available at 2353 E.12th St. in Oakland.\u003c/i>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem> in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">I\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>n 1986, when my family first moved to San Francisco from Angeles City, in the Philippines, we were enamored with American fast food: seafood pizza at Shakey’s and Uno’s deep dish on Friday nights, a bucket of KFC with corn and coleslaw, and a “choco shake” from the “McDo’s” drive-thru on Gellert on the way to Lolo’s house.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But on special occasions, we would gather the family for a big Filipino feast. We’d head to Fiesta Filipina in Daly City and eat pancit palabok and lechon kawali in an upscale setting, amongst other Filipinos who longed for that sense of community. I remember shifting uncomfortably on the bamboo chairs that mirrored my own living room set at home, my mom always urging me to order the fresh young coconut juice with the red straw peeking out of its top hat, and the halo-halo for dessert. Though we usually ate these dishes at home, the experience of enjoying them out among our people was what made growing up Pinay in The City feel special.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Back then, there were so many big Filipino family restaurants to choose from. If you grew up Filipino on the Peninsula in the ’80s and ’90s, you know how to finish the vintage restaurant jingle, “Tito Rey’s…” To this day, any Gen Xer or elder Millennial worth their soy sauce will respond, “…Night or Day!” The bustling 200-seat eatery-turned-nightclub in South San Francisco, with its full bar and ballroom, accommodated the large wave of Filipinos who immigrated to the Bay Area after World War II, increasing the population fivefold. Sadly, the restaurant is no longer around, but the memories of that jingle — and a time when newly-immigrated parents like mine had a place to dine, drink and dance the night away — are burned into my brain.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13959780\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13959780\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant.jpg\" alt=\"Vintage photo of a man singing karaoke at a Filipino restaurant in the 1980s. A group of children seated at a table look on.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1372\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-800x549.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-1020x700.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-160x110.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-768x527.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-1536x1054.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/06/FF-5-1980s-filipino-restaurant-1920x1317.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A young Rocky Rivera (2nd from the right, in green) watches a karaoke singer at a restaurant in Angeles City in the Philippines during the mid-1980s. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>And as we grew older, it was South City establishments like Tito Rey’s and Solita’s that allowed my dance troupe to use their restaurant as a venue because they always had a ballroom — or, at the very least, a dance floor. It was there that I learned that a “Filipino goodbye” was the opposite of an \u003ca href=\"https://slate.com/human-interest/2023/09/irish-goodbye-exit-why-chronic-illness.html\">Irish one\u003c/a>. Kids like me would whine to their parents “Can we go now?” while they made their leisurely rounds bidding farewell.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s hard to imagine doing the same now that I’m the parent. It seems like most of today’s Filipino restaurants have either gone fine dining or fast fusion — and, in the meantime, all of those big, family-focused spots have closed. None of the new places are jumping on a Saturday night with a live cover band and couples dressed to the nines, cha-cha-ing it up to the latest hits. Those “third places” for Bay Area Filipinos have largely disappeared, even as our food has finally hit the mainstream. Few places are providing for our need to be fed \u003ci>and\u003c/i> entertained.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>To be honest, not many of them are serving the kind of Filipino food I want to eat either. This upbringing of abundance made my palate sharp, discerning and always waxing nostalgic. I constantly compare the food at local Fil-Am restaurants to my own mother or grandmother’s style of cooking. And since both sides of my family hail from Pampanga, the culinary capital of the Philippines, I’m not often impressed.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957299\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957299\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Pork sisig in a plastic takeout container.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-16-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">An order of Tipunan’s pork sisig, served in a takeout container. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Until one day in 2020 when I \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">really needed a plate of comfort food\u003c/a> and found it at Tipunan in Oakland — in my opinion, the best classic Filipino food in all of the Bay Area. Deep in the throes of the pandemic, the restaurant’s rich pork belly kare-kare and tangy sinigang provided solace when I was grieving the loss of my mother, strengthening my connection to the motherland that I felt was jeopardized after her passing. And when my father-in-law passed six months after that, we put a plate of his favorite — pork sisig — on our family altar, again courtesy of Tipunan. We ate a lot of takeout during that time, with condolences offered in the form of Venmo pings and food delivery gift cards. It was the ideal consolation for the void we all felt, except for one thing: The place didn’t exist. Which is to say, it didn’t have a physical restaurant space beyond its DoorDash ordering menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp style=\"text-align: center\">***\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On a recent Friday, Chef Kai Torres-Cansino meets me in the small dining area of Oakland Food Hall, a ghost kitchen facility off East 12th, along with her partner in life and business, Jojo Cansino. They are the founders of Tipunan, which in Tagalog means “gathering place”— an irony not lost on me when I made a vow to finally track them down. Before they moved into this new space in Jingletown, there was no dine-in portion of the restaurant, just a kitchen a few blocks away off East 18th. Even now, the handful of picnic tables outside their new facility are mostly occupied by DoorDash drivers rather than actual customers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957303\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957303\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"Exterior of the Oakland Food Hall ghost kitchen facility.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-43-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The exterior of Oakland Food Hall, which markets itself as a “restaurant co-op” primarily specializing in to-go meals. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Inside these ghost kitchens, Chef Kai cooks her homestyle dishes from Bicol and Pampanga, the cities in the Philippines where her mother and father grew up, respectively. These recipes were passed down from generation to generation, and growing up, she remembers experiencing them most vividly during big reunions with her father’s side of the family in Pampanga.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Have you tried my tocino?” she asks, referring to the specialty dish of sweet marinated pork. “I really love it because it’s really Kapampangan tocino.” She tells me about how she tweaked the recipe to make it taste more similar to the carabao style that’s popular in her hometown. “It’s a little bit sweet-and-sour taste but very Kapampangan. It’s so good,” she says with pride.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Growing up, she learned how to cook from her mom: first chopping tomatoes, then moving up to boiling water and, later, sautéeing and grilling. Her family owned bowling lanes in Manila and Pampanga, so they always ran a cafe on-site, giving Kai the experience to know what good food should taste like — and, more importantly, how to make it to order.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957298\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957298\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-14-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A spread of Filipino dishes includes kare-kare, a classic stew with a thick savory peanut sauce. For dining in, the Oakland Food Hall offers a handful of seats inside and several picnic tables outside — though often these are occupied by delivery app drivers. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>During this visit to Tipunan, I’ve ordered my usuals: pork rib sinigang, pork sisig, crispy pork belly kare-kare and turon, or caramelized banana lumpia, for dessert. As usual, the sinigang is perfectly sour with tamarind. The kare-kare comes with its savory peanut sauce, bok choy and cabbage kept separate from the ulam, like my Lola used to do, to prevent it from getting soggy — and of course, the crispy pork belly, which takes at least 24 hours to prepare, is spectacular. They also offer healthier tofu versions of their sisig and kare-kare, though Chef Kai stresses that she’s “not a fan of fusion.” “That’s why the food is very classic,” she says.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Serving classic Filipino food is easier said than done, as many in the diaspora are extra harsh on businesses that don’t match their taste of home cooking. Any Filipino restaurant will share the same review: “It’s good, but not as good as my Nanay’s and Lola’s.” But Tipunan’s many four- and five-star reviews on DoorDash differ, likening the chef’s cooking to their own family’s spread, a feeling that hits the heart as much as it fills the stomach.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While Chef Kai has the seasoned palate, her partner, Jojo, is the one who surprised her with a business proposal. “The idea came about because at home, I don’t do any of the cooking because I am usually busy at work,”Jojo explains. “My wife does all the cooking.” So Jojo proposed starting their own business, at first just selling Kai’s prized banana bread and then, eventually, her Filipino home cooking.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957302\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957302\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A touch screen menu for a Filipino restaurant.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-38-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">At Oakland Food Hall, food from over 20 restaurants can be ordered online or on a touchscreen. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“I have the spirit of an entrepreneur and I’ve been working for myself for, maybe, fifteen years. And [Kai] was working for a corporate food service,” Jojo recalls. She says she inherited that knack for business from her grandmother, Corazon M. Espino, the first woman governor of the Nueva Vizcaya province in the Philippines. Because she and Kai started the business during the pandemic, they prioritized starting small with a kitchen that had a low start-up cost. For a whole year, it was just the two of them working late into the night and washing dishes afterward. When they got an opportunity to relocate to Oakland Food Hall, it was the streamlined system and better access point for delivery drivers that sealed the deal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I must admit that I panicked during the time Tipunan went offline to move locations. I thought to myself that it was too good to be true, wondering about the volatility of starting their business in Oakland, which only has two other traditional Filipino restaurants in the entire city. When they finally went back online, I vowed to track down who was behind this mysterious restaurant with zero social media presence and not even a storefront to promote their business. But now, seeing Tipunan thrive amongst the other kitchens in the food hall, I have hope in this scrappy contender borne from a shared entrepreneurial spirit and love for our culture’s traditional recipes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>As I look around the massive building that houses over twenty partner restaurants in one place, I marvel at its capacity to feed the community, while also employing multiple businesses in one location. It touts itself as a “restaurant co-op” whose mission is “to become your go-to spot for to-go meal.” Inside is a maze of kitchens that are more similar to studios in Hollywood lots than actual restaurants. It’s hard to tell if these “cloud” or “ghost kitchens” are good or bad for the actual workers, but they were a necessity during the pandemic when we were all forced to stay at home indefinitely.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And since Tipunan moved in from their previous ghost kitchen in May of 2022, they’ve increased their staff to five and expanded their menu to include bulgogi tacos and burritos. “Some people lost their job and closed their restaurants during the pandemic, and we were the lucky ones because that’s when Tipunan was born,” says Kai. Unlike a full-service restaurant, they’ve been able to experiment with new items and ideas with lower risk, first introducing them to existing customers before branching out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Deep down, however, Jojo still wishes they could open a dine-in location. In fact, the couple first met at a \u003ca href=\"https://thefortsf.com/\">Filipino restaurant on the Peninsula \u003c/a>— one that still has events and live music on Saturday nights. “I want to have a space like that, where people on the weekends say, ‘Hey what are you doing? Let’s go hang out at Tipunan. Let’s get something to eat.’ And when you get there, there’s entertainment, we have fun and we create memories,” she says. The most important thing, however, is that they now have a business that’s able to support five employees. “That to me, is rewarding by itself.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13957300\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13957300\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED.jpg\" alt='Two Filipino women in black \"Tipunan\" shirts sit laughinh on a picnic table.' width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2024/05/240503-TIPUNAN-20-BL-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Founders Jojo Cansino (left) and Chef Kai Torres-Cansino sit on a picnic table outside of Tipunan’s ghost kitchen facility. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>With so many full-fledged restaurants in the Bay Area still unable to operate seven days a week, those childhood memories of being out and about eating FIlipino food with my family feel like \u003ca href=\"https://www.foundsf.org/index.php?title=DALY_CITY:_THE_NEW_FILIPINOTOWN\">ancient history\u003c/a>. Hearing elders belt out karaoke hits, their voices hoarse with raucous laughter and drowned in San Miguel beer, felt like a piece of home — except it was right there in South City. A place to find the love of your life, even, like Kai and Jojo did.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For now, I’m just grateful that a place like Tipunan exists to preserve those old recipes and to feed us during all of those important family celebrations — even if we’re laying out the takeout cartons on the dining room table at home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And, for Chef Kai, at least, the idea of running one of those big family restaurants that used to rule the Bay Area’s Filipino scene is more than a little daunting. “At this kitchen, we’re already here 12 hours a day. How much more at a dine-in to maintain the consistency and quality, and then have the entertainment and bar? I’m gonna be drunk every night!” she laughs.\u003c/p>\n\u003chr>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://tipunan.com/\">\u003ci>Tipunan\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci> is open for \u003c/i>\u003ca href=\"https://tipunan.com/order-online\">\u003ci>online orders\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci>, with pickup available at 2353 E.12th St. in Oakland.\u003c/i>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera, \u003cem> in 2021\u003c/em>\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "The Downtown San Francisco I Loved Was a Holiday Wonderland",
"headTitle": "The Downtown San Francisco I Loved Was a Holiday Wonderland | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]T[/dropcap]his holiday season, my teenage son asked for his first pair of classic wheat Timberland boots. Favored by construction workers and rap legends, Timberlands are prized for their lifelong durability and rugged aesthetic. I should know — I’ve had my own pair of wheats on ice for over twenty years. The style of shoe is canon in hip-hop history; when I interviewed the Wu-Tang Clan for \u003ci>The Source\u003c/i> in 2007, they mentioned that their performance fee back then, split between the nine original members, was sometimes only enough for a pair of Timbs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the early 2000s, when I worked as a retail associate at Timberland’s downtown San Francisco store, I learned that only the classics were resoleable for life, and that they were water-resistant enough to withstand a quick downpour but not a heavy deluge. They were a good investment, I told my son, but please let Mom pick them out. I wanted him to have a lasting pair.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I loved that downtown Timberland job and have fond memories of taking the J-Church train from Mission Terrace over Dolores Park and through the Castro, before it finally dropped me off at Market & Powell. I was convinced it was the most beautiful Muni line in the city, and the holiday season, with the Embarcadero skyline lit up, made the trip even more festive. It was just close enough to Union Square to feel the holiday cheer in the crisp winter air and hear a melancholy Coltrane song from a street performer’s saxophone. The store itself was small enough for me to form lasting relationships there. And the employee discount was good enough to allow me to play Santa during the holidays.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13939440\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13939440\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR.jpg\" alt='Over a box a Timberland boots, a hand holds up an engraved leather name tag that reads \"Krishtine\"' width=\"2000\" height=\"1983\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-800x793.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-1020x1011.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-160x159.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-768x761.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-1536x1523.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-1920x1904.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A relic of the downtown San Francisco of the early 2000s. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Fast forward to 2023 and I haven’t stepped foot in downtown for years — not since the pandemic accelerated the neighborhood’s retail apocalypse. What used to be the prime destination for Christmas shopping now has to contend with two-day Amazon Prime shipping and a barrage of Fox News reports about the whole area being an open-air drug market. Cop cars park on the corner next to Louis Vuitton, hoping to deter roving gangs of juvenile shoplifters known for their \u003ca href=\"https://www.ktvu.com/news/video-shows-san-franciscos-union-square-louis-vuitton-store-after-it-was-emptied-out-by-thieves\">chaotic smash-and-grabs\u003c/a>. Even a high-end supermarket couldn’t save its customers from \u003ca href=\"https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/30/us/san-francisco-whole-foods-crime-economy.html\">“machete-wielding” assailants and drug users overdosing in the bathroom\u003c/a> — though locals might wonder who Whole Foods was trying to cater to downtown in the first place.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The neighborhood’s food scene isn’t doing much better. Chefs lament about how the lack of foot traffic and downtown office workers has shut down both trendy power-lunch spots (\u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/barbacco-italian-san-francisco-18376833.php\">Barbacco\u003c/a>) and beloved family-run staples (\u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/turtle-tower-vietnamese-closed-18519642.php\">Turtle Tower\u003c/a>). The nearby San Francisco Shopping Centre Mall is a shell of itself — about \u003ca href=\"https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/14/business/westfield-mall-sf.html\">45 percent empty\u003c/a> after the Nordstrom closed over the summer. Even during the lunch rush, the food court often feels deserted.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13929836,arts_13923127,arts_13921079']\u003c/span>The downtown I remember had shoplifters, drug users, scammers and weirdos, too — that part hasn’t changed as much as today’s news headlines might lead you to believe. But back when I worked downtown, I could spend my half-hour lunch breaks on a $2.50 slice combo at Blondie’s Pizza or splurge on a $15 roast chicken with mashed potatoes at Wolfgang Puck’s bistro in the Macy’s Cellar. Sometimes I’d have clam chowder in a sourdough bowl at Boudin; other days, I would save my pennies and meet my family for a celebratory dinner at Tad’s Steakhouse. When I was really broke, there was always the McDonald’s on Powell, where the old Filipino manongs used to hang out and watch the tourists on cable cars go past — not to mention the countless corner stores that sold bagels, coffee and sandwiches next to the Swisher Sweet cigars I used to wrap my blunts.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Most of these places are gone or relocated from where they originally stood. Even the McDonald’s are \u003ca href=\"https://sfstandard.com/2023/10/31/downtown-san-francisco-mcdonalds-closes/\">shutting down\u003c/a>. And the Timberland store I loved so much? That’s gone as well. My engraved leather name tag and pristine-condition wheats are all that remain of that era of downtown San Francisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003ch2>\u003cb>‘Make the City Better’\u003c/b>\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>“No one remembers, right before the pandemic, how many restaurants were closing, how many chefs burned out, how bad business was, how bad the rent was,” says Christian Ciscle, a chef and longtime San Francisco resident who owns \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/sfchickenbox/?hl=en\">SF Chickenbox \u003c/a>— a restaurant known for its perfectly golden-fried chicken, homemade hot sauces and chewy-pillowy mochi muffins. I’ve followed Ciscle’s seasoned breadcrumb trail from Little Skillet, where he served chicken and waffles to clubgoers at 330 Ritch, to Wing Wings in Lower Haight and now his new location in North Beach.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937770\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937770\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A person in a baseball cap stands in the doorway of a city building.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Christian Ciscle stands outside of the 332 Pine St. location of his latest project, Sucka Flea, a pop-up flea and swap market. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Ciscle believes the mental health crisis and crime that have always existed in San Francisco are now compounded by the \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfexaminer.com/news/cocaine-buffets-and-meth-poop-meet-twitter-s-rising-anti-san-francisco-influencers/article_723ddc00-24b0-11ed-bfc5-732c1fb7fc07.html\">constant barrage of videos\u003c/a> that serve as fuel for conservative media outlets looking to blame progressive politicians. Experiencing even one incident first-hand is enough to make a liberal store owner switch ideologies to welcome increased police presence — an approach Ciscle believes doesn’t actually deter property crime but instead targets the most vulnerable. “There’s truth to how bad it is, but unhoused people didn’t make [downtown] bad,” he says. “What made them unhoused did.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Downtown San Francisco has never been an ideal place for a food business, in Ciscle’s opinion: “It was always dead after 5 p.m. on weekdays and weekends. It was never a place to do business, unless you’re Tyler Florence.” And when the pandemic hit and business came to a screeching halt, he saw how vulnerable everyone was to closing down. “Nobody was bulletproof,” he says. “Everyone had to reassess their business model, their values.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937771\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937771\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A group of people stand stand outside of a city building.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Vendors take a break outside of 332 Pine St. from the Sucka Flea market in San Francisco, Calif. on Nov. 5, 2023. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Luckily, a newly created nonprofit called \u003ca href=\"https://sfnewdeal.org/\">SF New Deal\u003c/a> supported food businesses by paying them to provide meals for various community orgs. It paid SF Chickenbox for 200 meals a day — a source of money Ciscle could rely on in unsteady times, enabling him to keep his business open. Earlier this year, the program evolved into \u003ca href=\"https://www.vibrantsf.org/how-we-work\">Vacant to Vibrant\u003c/a> (V2V), a new initiative that tries to activate empty office spaces to accommodate small business pop-ups.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[pullquote size=\"large\" align=\"right\" citation=\"Christian Ciscle\"]‘Unhoused people didn’t make downtown bad. What made them unhoused did.’[/pullquote]Ciscle didn’t want to expand SF Chickenbox into downtown. But his experience throwing community festivals in years past made him perk up at the prospect of doing more than just food. The V2V program would allow him to utilize his long-standing relationships with vendors, artists, DJs and local artisans. So Ciscle created Sucka Flea, a pop-up flea market (and homage to San Francisco’s “Sucka Free” alias) that would also include local food vendors like \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13928804/hyphy-iceez-icee-slushy-filipino-hip-hop-mission-district-sf\">Hyphy Iceez\u003c/a> and \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13926749/tasty-tings-jamaican-beef-patties-sf-oakland\">Tasty Tings\u003c/a>. The flea market’s last event of the year — a \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/C0f3tPKLJZt/\">holiday-themed market\u003c/a> — will take place at Hub Embarcadero (Howard St. and Embarcadero) on Saturday, Dec. 16.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For jewelry designer \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13932647/rightnowish-presents-adorned-the-art-of-self-expression-affirmation\">Chelsea Macalino-Calalay\u003c/a>, Sucka Flea has provided a consistent space to sell her wares. At the Pine Street pop-up, her colorful baubles catch the eye of my five-year-old daughter, who otherwise would have no business in the Financial District on a Sunday afternoon. Macalino-Calalay is one of the thousands of Filipino Americans who were displaced from SoMa’s Manilatown enclave that once spanned ten city blocks to the International Hotel on Kearny Street. Macalino-Calalay’s family emigrated in the late ’60s and early ’70s. Her grandfather’s siblings were first employed as sign-painters at the Thomas Swan Sign Company when it was on Howard Street, then as food and service industry workers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13939443\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13939443\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A smiling vendor greets a customer at an indoor flea market.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author chats with vendors Chelsea Macalino-Calalay (center) and Dante Kaleo during the November edition of Sucka Flea’s downtown pop-up. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“I used to be a crepe chef and a cake decorator and a hostess and a waitress. So I worked in food, too. It showed me a lot about work ethic as well as perseverance,” she recalls with pride. “But it also showed me what I don’t want in a work environment.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13933833']\u003c/span>Macalino-Calalay remembers downtown San Francisco as the place her family squeezed into on weekends, patronizing the fresh Filipino food at Aling Mary’s Unimart, relishing her lola’s home cooking, and enjoying meals from the McDonald’s on Bryant, where her father worked as a manager with an all-Filipino staff. Community orgs like West Bay, Soma Pilipinas and United Playaz helped her as a young girl, and Macalino-Calalay is seeing a resurgence of these kinds of resources that she hopes will continue.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When asked if things are better or worse today, she pauses. “From someone who didn’t grow up in SF, ‘worse’ is very subjective. Things being worse just looks like us not being there,” she says about her family of SF locals, who are now scattered throughout the East Bay and Outer Mission. Some are still in the SoMa, where her jewelry is now being shown in a special exhibit at SFMOMA with artist Pacita Abad. It’s a full-circle moment for a Frisco girl, who used to see parts of the museum being painted below the front steps of her family home on Langton Street.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937768\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937768\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A person poses for a photo holding up a bowl of food in an indoor setting.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tanya Herrera (left) and Catherine Pham enjoy taking photos with some vintage collectibles. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Meanwhile, \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/whackdonuts/?hl=en\">Whack Donuts\u003c/a> owner Vandor Hill, a born-and-raised San Franciscan, \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/downtown-sf-pop-ups-18392057.php\">opened his own temporary pop-up shop\u003c/a> through the V2V program. who sells delectable-looking peach cobbler doughnuts and Donkey Kong bread doughnuts, alongside trendy flavors like Thai tea and horchata. While he has appreciated the opportunity, He believes first-time business owners in San Francisco need even more support from City Hall — and actual follow-through from local politicians. “Like the Bobby Byrd song, ‘Saying It and Doing It Are Two Different Things.’ The mayor along with the Board of Supervisors have been saying a lot in terms of enforcing law and the homeless situation, but have yet to really make any lasting moves for improving these topics,” he says.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ciscle, for his part, believes pandemic-era programs like SF New Deal and Vacant to Vibrant are proof that money is out there for local food business owners: “There’s billionaires blocks away from us right now that could literally fund some shit and make it better — not that they should be running the city,” he says. “There’s money to fund programs out there, not just locking people up. To feed people, put people in houses. Make the city better.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“People are more concerned with seeing [the unhoused] on the street,” Ciscle says. “They’re gonna put a planter on the sidewalk there so they can’t sleep and then be mad it gets knocked over or graffiti-ed up. And now we have two problems.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937769\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937769\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A person with long hair laughs while sitting at a table talking to someone else.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Nina Parks gives the author a tarot card reading. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For now, Sucka Flea is occupying some of these empty spaces and providing small business owners with shared foot traffic and community. It can’t fix all of the problems facing downtown San Francisco, but it’s a start. After all, creating a family-friendly space that attracts folks from all over the Bay Area to shop downtown is no small feat — and \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/reel/C05JjsuvGK0/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA%3D%3D\">spending holiday shopping dollars with local vendors\u003c/a> seems more sustainable than throwing it away on chain restaurants and national department stores that never felt connected to community residents anyway. In a small way, the flea market has brought back some of that old holiday spirit I remember from my own time working in the neighborhood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the last flea market we attended, my son found a vintage button-down Ben Davis — another Frisco workwear staple — to go with the Timbs that he has yet to receive. Though I don’t consider my own pair vintage, I guess you can say those boots have walked many hills and seen a lot of change. Hopefully they’ll last long enough to live through a revitalization of downtown SF that is truly for the people who built it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-12127869\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"78\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-768x75.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://www.suckaflea.com/\">\u003ci>Sucka Flea\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci>’s pop-up holiday market will take place on Saturday, Dec. 16, 10 a.m.–4 p.m., at Howard Street and Embarcadero in San Francisco. The downtown pop-up is normally held at 332 Pine St. Its Mission District outpost will have its next event at CityStation SF (701 Valencia St.) on Jan. 14.\u003c/i>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">T\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>his holiday season, my teenage son asked for his first pair of classic wheat Timberland boots. Favored by construction workers and rap legends, Timberlands are prized for their lifelong durability and rugged aesthetic. I should know — I’ve had my own pair of wheats on ice for over twenty years. The style of shoe is canon in hip-hop history; when I interviewed the Wu-Tang Clan for \u003ci>The Source\u003c/i> in 2007, they mentioned that their performance fee back then, split between the nine original members, was sometimes only enough for a pair of Timbs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the early 2000s, when I worked as a retail associate at Timberland’s downtown San Francisco store, I learned that only the classics were resoleable for life, and that they were water-resistant enough to withstand a quick downpour but not a heavy deluge. They were a good investment, I told my son, but please let Mom pick them out. I wanted him to have a lasting pair.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I loved that downtown Timberland job and have fond memories of taking the J-Church train from Mission Terrace over Dolores Park and through the Castro, before it finally dropped me off at Market & Powell. I was convinced it was the most beautiful Muni line in the city, and the holiday season, with the Embarcadero skyline lit up, made the trip even more festive. It was just close enough to Union Square to feel the holiday cheer in the crisp winter air and hear a melancholy Coltrane song from a street performer’s saxophone. The store itself was small enough for me to form lasting relationships there. And the employee discount was good enough to allow me to play Santa during the holidays.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13939440\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13939440\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR.jpg\" alt='Over a box a Timberland boots, a hand holds up an engraved leather name tag that reads \"Krishtine\"' width=\"2000\" height=\"1983\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-800x793.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-1020x1011.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-160x159.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-768x761.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-1536x1523.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/timberland-tag_RR-1920x1904.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A relic of the downtown San Francisco of the early 2000s. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Fast forward to 2023 and I haven’t stepped foot in downtown for years — not since the pandemic accelerated the neighborhood’s retail apocalypse. What used to be the prime destination for Christmas shopping now has to contend with two-day Amazon Prime shipping and a barrage of Fox News reports about the whole area being an open-air drug market. Cop cars park on the corner next to Louis Vuitton, hoping to deter roving gangs of juvenile shoplifters known for their \u003ca href=\"https://www.ktvu.com/news/video-shows-san-franciscos-union-square-louis-vuitton-store-after-it-was-emptied-out-by-thieves\">chaotic smash-and-grabs\u003c/a>. Even a high-end supermarket couldn’t save its customers from \u003ca href=\"https://www.nytimes.com/2023/04/30/us/san-francisco-whole-foods-crime-economy.html\">“machete-wielding” assailants and drug users overdosing in the bathroom\u003c/a> — though locals might wonder who Whole Foods was trying to cater to downtown in the first place.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The neighborhood’s food scene isn’t doing much better. Chefs lament about how the lack of foot traffic and downtown office workers has shut down both trendy power-lunch spots (\u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/barbacco-italian-san-francisco-18376833.php\">Barbacco\u003c/a>) and beloved family-run staples (\u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/turtle-tower-vietnamese-closed-18519642.php\">Turtle Tower\u003c/a>). The nearby San Francisco Shopping Centre Mall is a shell of itself — about \u003ca href=\"https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/14/business/westfield-mall-sf.html\">45 percent empty\u003c/a> after the Nordstrom closed over the summer. Even during the lunch rush, the food court often feels deserted.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>The downtown I remember had shoplifters, drug users, scammers and weirdos, too — that part hasn’t changed as much as today’s news headlines might lead you to believe. But back when I worked downtown, I could spend my half-hour lunch breaks on a $2.50 slice combo at Blondie’s Pizza or splurge on a $15 roast chicken with mashed potatoes at Wolfgang Puck’s bistro in the Macy’s Cellar. Sometimes I’d have clam chowder in a sourdough bowl at Boudin; other days, I would save my pennies and meet my family for a celebratory dinner at Tad’s Steakhouse. When I was really broke, there was always the McDonald’s on Powell, where the old Filipino manongs used to hang out and watch the tourists on cable cars go past — not to mention the countless corner stores that sold bagels, coffee and sandwiches next to the Swisher Sweet cigars I used to wrap my blunts.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Most of these places are gone or relocated from where they originally stood. Even the McDonald’s are \u003ca href=\"https://sfstandard.com/2023/10/31/downtown-san-francisco-mcdonalds-closes/\">shutting down\u003c/a>. And the Timberland store I loved so much? That’s gone as well. My engraved leather name tag and pristine-condition wheats are all that remain of that era of downtown San Francisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003ch2>\u003cb>‘Make the City Better’\u003c/b>\u003c/h2>\n\u003cp>“No one remembers, right before the pandemic, how many restaurants were closing, how many chefs burned out, how bad business was, how bad the rent was,” says Christian Ciscle, a chef and longtime San Francisco resident who owns \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/sfchickenbox/?hl=en\">SF Chickenbox \u003c/a>— a restaurant known for its perfectly golden-fried chicken, homemade hot sauces and chewy-pillowy mochi muffins. I’ve followed Ciscle’s seasoned breadcrumb trail from Little Skillet, where he served chicken and waffles to clubgoers at 330 Ritch, to Wing Wings in Lower Haight and now his new location in North Beach.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937770\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937770\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A person in a baseball cap stands in the doorway of a city building.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-05-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Christian Ciscle stands outside of the 332 Pine St. location of his latest project, Sucka Flea, a pop-up flea and swap market. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Ciscle believes the mental health crisis and crime that have always existed in San Francisco are now compounded by the \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfexaminer.com/news/cocaine-buffets-and-meth-poop-meet-twitter-s-rising-anti-san-francisco-influencers/article_723ddc00-24b0-11ed-bfc5-732c1fb7fc07.html\">constant barrage of videos\u003c/a> that serve as fuel for conservative media outlets looking to blame progressive politicians. Experiencing even one incident first-hand is enough to make a liberal store owner switch ideologies to welcome increased police presence — an approach Ciscle believes doesn’t actually deter property crime but instead targets the most vulnerable. “There’s truth to how bad it is, but unhoused people didn’t make [downtown] bad,” he says. “What made them unhoused did.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Downtown San Francisco has never been an ideal place for a food business, in Ciscle’s opinion: “It was always dead after 5 p.m. on weekdays and weekends. It was never a place to do business, unless you’re Tyler Florence.” And when the pandemic hit and business came to a screeching halt, he saw how vulnerable everyone was to closing down. “Nobody was bulletproof,” he says. “Everyone had to reassess their business model, their values.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937771\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937771\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A group of people stand stand outside of a city building.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-06-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Vendors take a break outside of 332 Pine St. from the Sucka Flea market in San Francisco, Calif. on Nov. 5, 2023. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Luckily, a newly created nonprofit called \u003ca href=\"https://sfnewdeal.org/\">SF New Deal\u003c/a> supported food businesses by paying them to provide meals for various community orgs. It paid SF Chickenbox for 200 meals a day — a source of money Ciscle could rely on in unsteady times, enabling him to keep his business open. Earlier this year, the program evolved into \u003ca href=\"https://www.vibrantsf.org/how-we-work\">Vacant to Vibrant\u003c/a> (V2V), a new initiative that tries to activate empty office spaces to accommodate small business pop-ups.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>Ciscle didn’t want to expand SF Chickenbox into downtown. But his experience throwing community festivals in years past made him perk up at the prospect of doing more than just food. The V2V program would allow him to utilize his long-standing relationships with vendors, artists, DJs and local artisans. So Ciscle created Sucka Flea, a pop-up flea market (and homage to San Francisco’s “Sucka Free” alias) that would also include local food vendors like \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13928804/hyphy-iceez-icee-slushy-filipino-hip-hop-mission-district-sf\">Hyphy Iceez\u003c/a> and \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13926749/tasty-tings-jamaican-beef-patties-sf-oakland\">Tasty Tings\u003c/a>. The flea market’s last event of the year — a \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/p/C0f3tPKLJZt/\">holiday-themed market\u003c/a> — will take place at Hub Embarcadero (Howard St. and Embarcadero) on Saturday, Dec. 16.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For jewelry designer \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13932647/rightnowish-presents-adorned-the-art-of-self-expression-affirmation\">Chelsea Macalino-Calalay\u003c/a>, Sucka Flea has provided a consistent space to sell her wares. At the Pine Street pop-up, her colorful baubles catch the eye of my five-year-old daughter, who otherwise would have no business in the Financial District on a Sunday afternoon. Macalino-Calalay is one of the thousands of Filipino Americans who were displaced from SoMa’s Manilatown enclave that once spanned ten city blocks to the International Hotel on Kearny Street. Macalino-Calalay’s family emigrated in the late ’60s and early ’70s. Her grandfather’s siblings were first employed as sign-painters at the Thomas Swan Sign Company when it was on Howard Street, then as food and service industry workers.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13939443\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13939443\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A smiling vendor greets a customer at an indoor flea market.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/12/L1002703-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author chats with vendors Chelsea Macalino-Calalay (center) and Dante Kaleo during the November edition of Sucka Flea’s downtown pop-up. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“I used to be a crepe chef and a cake decorator and a hostess and a waitress. So I worked in food, too. It showed me a lot about work ethic as well as perseverance,” she recalls with pride. “But it also showed me what I don’t want in a work environment.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>Macalino-Calalay remembers downtown San Francisco as the place her family squeezed into on weekends, patronizing the fresh Filipino food at Aling Mary’s Unimart, relishing her lola’s home cooking, and enjoying meals from the McDonald’s on Bryant, where her father worked as a manager with an all-Filipino staff. Community orgs like West Bay, Soma Pilipinas and United Playaz helped her as a young girl, and Macalino-Calalay is seeing a resurgence of these kinds of resources that she hopes will continue.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When asked if things are better or worse today, she pauses. “From someone who didn’t grow up in SF, ‘worse’ is very subjective. Things being worse just looks like us not being there,” she says about her family of SF locals, who are now scattered throughout the East Bay and Outer Mission. Some are still in the SoMa, where her jewelry is now being shown in a special exhibit at SFMOMA with artist Pacita Abad. It’s a full-circle moment for a Frisco girl, who used to see parts of the museum being painted below the front steps of her family home on Langton Street.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937768\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937768\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A person poses for a photo holding up a bowl of food in an indoor setting.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-03-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tanya Herrera (left) and Catherine Pham enjoy taking photos with some vintage collectibles. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Meanwhile, \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/whackdonuts/?hl=en\">Whack Donuts\u003c/a> owner Vandor Hill, a born-and-raised San Franciscan, \u003ca href=\"https://www.sfchronicle.com/food/restaurants/article/downtown-sf-pop-ups-18392057.php\">opened his own temporary pop-up shop\u003c/a> through the V2V program. who sells delectable-looking peach cobbler doughnuts and Donkey Kong bread doughnuts, alongside trendy flavors like Thai tea and horchata. While he has appreciated the opportunity, He believes first-time business owners in San Francisco need even more support from City Hall — and actual follow-through from local politicians. “Like the Bobby Byrd song, ‘Saying It and Doing It Are Two Different Things.’ The mayor along with the Board of Supervisors have been saying a lot in terms of enforcing law and the homeless situation, but have yet to really make any lasting moves for improving these topics,” he says.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ciscle, for his part, believes pandemic-era programs like SF New Deal and Vacant to Vibrant are proof that money is out there for local food business owners: “There’s billionaires blocks away from us right now that could literally fund some shit and make it better — not that they should be running the city,” he says. “There’s money to fund programs out there, not just locking people up. To feed people, put people in houses. Make the city better.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“People are more concerned with seeing [the unhoused] on the street,” Ciscle says. “They’re gonna put a planter on the sidewalk there so they can’t sleep and then be mad it gets knocked over or graffiti-ed up. And now we have two problems.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13937769\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 2000px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13937769\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED.jpg\" alt=\"A person with long hair laughs while sitting at a table talking to someone else.\" width=\"2000\" height=\"1333\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED.jpg 2000w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/11/231108-SUCK-FLEA-MARKET-AC-04-KQED-1920x1280.jpg 1920w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 2000px) 100vw, 2000px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Nina Parks gives the author a tarot card reading. \u003ccite>(Aryk Copley for KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For now, Sucka Flea is occupying some of these empty spaces and providing small business owners with shared foot traffic and community. It can’t fix all of the problems facing downtown San Francisco, but it’s a start. After all, creating a family-friendly space that attracts folks from all over the Bay Area to shop downtown is no small feat — and \u003ca href=\"https://www.instagram.com/reel/C05JjsuvGK0/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA%3D%3D\">spending holiday shopping dollars with local vendors\u003c/a> seems more sustainable than throwing it away on chain restaurants and national department stores that never felt connected to community residents anyway. In a small way, the flea market has brought back some of that old holiday spirit I remember from my own time working in the neighborhood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the last flea market we attended, my son found a vintage button-down Ben Davis — another Frisco workwear staple — to go with the Timbs that he has yet to receive. Though I don’t consider my own pair vintage, I guess you can say those boots have walked many hills and seen a lot of change. Hopefully they’ll last long enough to live through a revitalization of downtown SF that is truly for the people who built it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-12127869\" src=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"78\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-768x75.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ca href=\"https://www.suckaflea.com/\">\u003ci>Sucka Flea\u003c/i>\u003c/a>\u003ci>’s pop-up holiday market will take place on Saturday, Dec. 16, 10 a.m.–4 p.m., at Howard Street and Embarcadero in San Francisco. The downtown pop-up is normally held at 332 Pine St. Its Mission District outpost will have its next event at CityStation SF (701 Valencia St.) on Jan. 14.\u003c/i>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"slug": "roxie-food-center-san-francisco-deli-sandwich-dutch-crunch-excelsior",
"title": "The Old-School San Francisco Sandwich That Stole My Heart",
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"headTitle": "The Old-School San Francisco Sandwich That Stole My Heart | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/frisco-foodies\">Frisco Foodies\u003c/a> is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]S[/dropcap]an Francisco might not be known as a “\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/sandwich\">sandwich\u003c/a> town,” but hear me out: The City’s grab-and-go culture and proximity to fresh produce make it the perfect place for a one-handed meal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929853\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 1711px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929853\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"Two middle school age Filipino American girls dressed in athletic warm-ups, in a throwback photo from the 1990s.\" width=\"1711\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-scaled.jpg 1711w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-800x1197.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-1020x1526.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-160x239.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-768x1149.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-1026x1536.jpg 1026w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-1369x2048.jpg 1369w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1711px) 100vw, 1711px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author and her best friend Arlene during their Potrero Hill Middle School days. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Yes, you might associate us more with tourists eating clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl, but one of the legacies of the Gold Rush and Frisco’s history of blue-collar laborers is that we hate sitting down for a meal, and we love taking it to go in the car — and finding a nice view to enjoy that sandwich while the fog rolls in. And with the advent of Dutch Crunch bread, invented in the Netherlands but \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/11761468/dutch-crunch-a-bay-area-favorite-but-not-a-bay-area-original\">a Bay Area specialty,\u003c/a> our local sandwiches have an unparalleled layering of textures that can’t be found anywhere else. Did I mention how well they hold up to California avocados?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I was first introduced to the San Francisco-style deli sandwich at Jackson Park baseball field, where my best friend Arlene and I were the de facto softball managers for the Potrero Hill Middle School Stallions — a position we signed up for mostly just so we could leave class early. Once we set out the mitts and bases, Arlene and I would go around the corner to JB’s, where we split a roast beef on Dutch Crunch and a side of fries.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By the time practice was done, so were we. Stuffed and caught up on all the hot goss, we’d go back to Jackson Park, collect the mitts and bases, and do it all over again the next day. Those lazy afternoons of softball and sandwiches constituted an “America” we otherwise only saw in the movies. To me, they represented an idyllic time when families of color could still afford to live in the City, watch a game at Candlestick and truly feel like a part of the community. After we graduated, memories of our days on the bleachers faded, but my love for those SF-style deli sandwiches remained.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When Treasure Island Naval Base shut down in 1996, my dad retired from the U.S. Navy and we eventually moved into the Excelsior District, where I found the holy grail of sandwich shops: Roxie Food Center on the corner of San Jose and San Juan avenues. At this tight squeeze of a corner store, patrons knew to go straight to the back to order their special from one of the OG Roxie’s Crew: Kevin, Floyd or one of the Tannous brothers, Tony, Peter or Simon. Those guys were legendary sandwich artists who elevated my humble roast beef to new heights. Hot pastrami, smoked tri-tip, meatballs and even imitation crab all graced the menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929844\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929844\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A sandwich counter is visible at the end of a narrow market aisle crammed full of bagged chips and other snacks.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">At this tight squeeze of a corner store, customers know to head straight to the back to put in their sandwich orders. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929850\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929850\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A deli shop worker looks out from behind the ordering window as he checks out a customer.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Co-owner Mike Zunoona takes a customer’s order from behind the counter at Roxie Food Center. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It was a little market before, and they added a deli,” Mick Shehadeh tells me over the phone at the end of his shift at Roxie’s on a recent Friday afternoon. He and his cousin Mike Zunoona took over the business after the Tannous brothers — their uncles — retired in the fall of 2021. “The reason why [my uncles] went with that type of deli was because they loved the Italian culture. It’s kind of like our Palestinian culture — it’s really a tight-knit family, good food, a lot of soul.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Barely past five feet tall, I had to tiptoe to place my order in one breath: \u003ci>Smoked turkey with provolone on Dutch, heated up, everything on it, with avocado. And please don’t forget the jalapeños\u003c/i>. While they made my sandwich fresh, I’d place my bag of chips and Gatorade on the counter and grab an \u003ci>Auto Trader\u003c/i> from the magazine rack, flipping through it while I daydreamed about buying an ‘87 Buick Grand National.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There wasn’t a place to eat nearby, so like most patrons, I’d sit in my car with my door open, paper bag ripped in half to form a makeshift tablecloth, devouring the sandwich while the Dutch was still warm and toasty and the cheese still melted. In high school, this was the preferred school lunch before Ma made dinner. If you didn’t have your own, you could always rely on someone splitting theirs or at least sharing a bite or two. As a starving college student, sometimes a sandwich had to be lunch \u003ci>and\u003c/i> dinner. Hell, I would even reheat it the next day for breakfast — especially if I’d ordered an oversized “supreme.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929852\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929852\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut.jpg\" alt=\"Three workers talk as they prepare sandwiches behind a busy deli counter.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Roxie’s employees hard at work behind the busy deli counter. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929847\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929847\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A deli worker wearing blue kitchen gloves holds a pastrami sandwich, cut so that the meaty cross section is visible.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Pastrami on Dutch, a classic San Francisco deli sandwich. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Roxie’s was community. It was sustenance. And it was open seven days a week.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I fell in love with the muscle cars that drove up and down Mission in the Excelsior. I fell in love with the houses that dotted the surrounding hills like an Italian village, a view on every hilltop. I fell in love with a boy from Delano Avenue, around the corner from the shop. But it was that Roxie’s sandwich that truly stole my heart. \u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[pullquote size=\"large\" align=\"right\"]“Roxie’s was community. It was sustenance. And it was open seven days a week.”[/pullquote]\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Tannous brothers must have felt the same way when they immigrated from Palestine and chose this quaint location to represent their own American dream, drawing inspiration from the region’s Italian-style delicatessens. That cross-pollination of cultures felt quintessentially Bay Area, and the love of quality food and togetherness created a lasting bond for anyone lucky enough to grow up in the neighborhood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I just remember [my uncles] always being really involved in the community. They sponsored a lot of the baseball teams,” recalls Shehadeh, who was born and raised in Hunters Point. “Just seeing how tight the family was with the community was beautiful, and that’s what really made me excited to really be a part of that.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929848\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929848\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photographs taken by customers through the years show the deli’s deep roots in the local community. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The shop used to host an annual Fourth of July party, and they’d often let regular customers come back and pay if they didn’t have enough money for a sandwich or groceries. The care and attention went beyond the sandwiches. The Roxie’s crew became a part of our everyday lives.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The walls outside now have graffiti-style murals to honor the late Kevin D. and Floyd S., two of the aforementioned OGs of the Roxie’s crew. Looking back on those early days, Shehadeh says his uncles were always looking out for the team, even when the rest of the neighborhood hadn’t yet accepted Floyd, who was Black and worked at the shop from when it opened in 1975 until he passed in 2011. “He was a really important part of the family,” Shehadeh says.” It was kind of hard — having him work with us in the beginning — because people didn’t like that we had an African American man working for us. We made it work and we told them, ‘He’s a really nice guy, a beautiful person.’”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929842\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929842\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Zunoona hands a bag of sandwiches to a longtime customer. The mural behind them honors former Roxie’s employees Kevin D. and Floyd S. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>That sense of mutual respect and inclusivity imbued a fierce loyalty in the shop’s customers, who worried that new ownership would be a harbinger of the changing times — a result of growing gentrification in the Mission Terrace and Excelsior districts. “[My uncles] had seen that the community didn’t like that they wanted to sell, so they decided to pass it down, and we were happy to take over,” Shehadeh says. In any case, he says the neighborhood hasn’t changed as much as the rest of the city. It’s truly one of the most diverse zip codes left in San Francisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13923127,arts_13921079,arts_13927857']\u003c/span>“A lot of the elderly crowd has moved on and it’s now become more family-oriented,” he says. “Nice young families moving in, and everybody’s growing together.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The last time I visited Roxie’s before the old owners retired, Tony Tannous rang up my smoked turkey and asked how I’d been. Even two kids and two decades later, he still remembered my face — that’s just the kind of place it was. By that time, the pandemic was already taking a toll on the business. It was exhausting to be open seven days a week and hard to compete with food delivery options with cheaper ingredients. While the quality of sandwiches didn’t change, the world around it did, and something had to give. The Tannous brothers wrapped their last Dutch Crunch sandwich in 2021.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929854\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929854\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous.jpg\" alt=\"A selfie of a a woman in sunglasses and close-cropped hair posing with an older deli man in a black apron and 49ers shirt.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2555\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-800x1065.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-1020x1357.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-768x1022.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-1154x1536.jpg 1154w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-1539x2048.jpg 1539w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author poses for a selfie with Tony Tannous, one of the three Tannous brothers who opened Roxie’s in 1975. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though I’ve lived in Oakland for the past 12 years, I would trade the sunny weather at Lake Merritt for a foggy afternoon in the Excelsior any day, just to raise my two kids the same way I was raised: as part of a community that watched each other’s back and cared about each other’s well-being. I fell in love with their dad, \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/10445851/from-gangs-to-glory-bambus-political-hip-hop-for-the-people\">Bambu\u003c/a>, in the Excelsior, when I used to live in a shared apartment on Brazil and Madrid. After performing at the Filipino Community Center, we walked home hand in hand, partying into the night with my roommates and falling asleep to the sound of cars doing donuts in the intersection. It was the closest thing to heaven for an Excelsior girl.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Since he’s from Los Angeles, one of our first dates was at Roxie’s, where I introduced him to the things I loved most about the City. What I didn’t tell him until much later was that the boy from Delano Ave. that I used to love was behind the counter making our sandwich. With so much history in that shop, I spared him the silly details. This was my community, too, and I’d never let that tidbit spoil another amazing sandwich memory.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-12127869\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"78\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-768x75.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "Roxie Food Center has been a holy grail of SF deli sandwich culture for nearly 50 years.",
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"title": "Roxie Food Center's Old-School SF Deli Sandwich Stole My Heart | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/frisco-foodies\">Frisco Foodies\u003c/a> is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">S\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>an Francisco might not be known as a “\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/tag/sandwich\">sandwich\u003c/a> town,” but hear me out: The City’s grab-and-go culture and proximity to fresh produce make it the perfect place for a one-handed meal.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929853\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 1711px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929853\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"Two middle school age Filipino American girls dressed in athletic warm-ups, in a throwback photo from the 1990s.\" width=\"1711\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-scaled.jpg 1711w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-800x1197.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-1020x1526.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-160x239.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-768x1149.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-1026x1536.jpg 1026w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-PH-Stallions-1369x2048.jpg 1369w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1711px) 100vw, 1711px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author and her best friend Arlene during their Potrero Hill Middle School days. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Yes, you might associate us more with tourists eating clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl, but one of the legacies of the Gold Rush and Frisco’s history of blue-collar laborers is that we hate sitting down for a meal, and we love taking it to go in the car — and finding a nice view to enjoy that sandwich while the fog rolls in. And with the advent of Dutch Crunch bread, invented in the Netherlands but \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/news/11761468/dutch-crunch-a-bay-area-favorite-but-not-a-bay-area-original\">a Bay Area specialty,\u003c/a> our local sandwiches have an unparalleled layering of textures that can’t be found anywhere else. Did I mention how well they hold up to California avocados?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I was first introduced to the San Francisco-style deli sandwich at Jackson Park baseball field, where my best friend Arlene and I were the de facto softball managers for the Potrero Hill Middle School Stallions — a position we signed up for mostly just so we could leave class early. Once we set out the mitts and bases, Arlene and I would go around the corner to JB’s, where we split a roast beef on Dutch Crunch and a side of fries.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By the time practice was done, so were we. Stuffed and caught up on all the hot goss, we’d go back to Jackson Park, collect the mitts and bases, and do it all over again the next day. Those lazy afternoons of softball and sandwiches constituted an “America” we otherwise only saw in the movies. To me, they represented an idyllic time when families of color could still afford to live in the City, watch a game at Candlestick and truly feel like a part of the community. After we graduated, memories of our days on the bleachers faded, but my love for those SF-style deli sandwiches remained.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When Treasure Island Naval Base shut down in 1996, my dad retired from the U.S. Navy and we eventually moved into the Excelsior District, where I found the holy grail of sandwich shops: Roxie Food Center on the corner of San Jose and San Juan avenues. At this tight squeeze of a corner store, patrons knew to go straight to the back to order their special from one of the OG Roxie’s Crew: Kevin, Floyd or one of the Tannous brothers, Tony, Peter or Simon. Those guys were legendary sandwich artists who elevated my humble roast beef to new heights. Hot pastrami, smoked tri-tip, meatballs and even imitation crab all graced the menu.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929844\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929844\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A sandwich counter is visible at the end of a narrow market aisle crammed full of bagged chips and other snacks.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64137_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-139-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">At this tight squeeze of a corner store, customers know to head straight to the back to put in their sandwich orders. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929850\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929850\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A deli shop worker looks out from behind the ordering window as he checks out a customer.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64150_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-490-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Co-owner Mike Zunoona takes a customer’s order from behind the counter at Roxie Food Center. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>“It was a little market before, and they added a deli,” Mick Shehadeh tells me over the phone at the end of his shift at Roxie’s on a recent Friday afternoon. He and his cousin Mike Zunoona took over the business after the Tannous brothers — their uncles — retired in the fall of 2021. “The reason why [my uncles] went with that type of deli was because they loved the Italian culture. It’s kind of like our Palestinian culture — it’s really a tight-knit family, good food, a lot of soul.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Barely past five feet tall, I had to tiptoe to place my order in one breath: \u003ci>Smoked turkey with provolone on Dutch, heated up, everything on it, with avocado. And please don’t forget the jalapeños\u003c/i>. While they made my sandwich fresh, I’d place my bag of chips and Gatorade on the counter and grab an \u003ci>Auto Trader\u003c/i> from the magazine rack, flipping through it while I daydreamed about buying an ‘87 Buick Grand National.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There wasn’t a place to eat nearby, so like most patrons, I’d sit in my car with my door open, paper bag ripped in half to form a makeshift tablecloth, devouring the sandwich while the Dutch was still warm and toasty and the cheese still melted. In high school, this was the preferred school lunch before Ma made dinner. If you didn’t have your own, you could always rely on someone splitting theirs or at least sharing a bite or two. As a starving college student, sometimes a sandwich had to be lunch \u003ci>and\u003c/i> dinner. Hell, I would even reheat it the next day for breakfast — especially if I’d ordered an oversized “supreme.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929852\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929852\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut.jpg\" alt=\"Three workers talk as they prepare sandwiches behind a busy deli counter.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64154_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-062-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Roxie’s employees hard at work behind the busy deli counter. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929847\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929847\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A deli worker wearing blue kitchen gloves holds a pastrami sandwich, cut so that the meaty cross section is visible.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64146_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-470-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Pastrami on Dutch, a classic San Francisco deli sandwich. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Roxie’s was community. It was sustenance. And it was open seven days a week.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I fell in love with the muscle cars that drove up and down Mission in the Excelsior. I fell in love with the houses that dotted the surrounding hills like an Italian village, a view on every hilltop. I fell in love with a boy from Delano Avenue, around the corner from the shop. But it was that Roxie’s sandwich that truly stole my heart. \u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "“Roxie’s was community. It was sustenance. And it was open seven days a week.”",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The Tannous brothers must have felt the same way when they immigrated from Palestine and chose this quaint location to represent their own American dream, drawing inspiration from the region’s Italian-style delicatessens. That cross-pollination of cultures felt quintessentially Bay Area, and the love of quality food and togetherness created a lasting bond for anyone lucky enough to grow up in the neighborhood.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I just remember [my uncles] always being really involved in the community. They sponsored a lot of the baseball teams,” recalls Shehadeh, who was born and raised in Hunters Point. “Just seeing how tight the family was with the community was beautiful, and that’s what really made me excited to really be a part of that.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929848\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929848\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64147_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-499-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photographs taken by customers through the years show the deli’s deep roots in the local community. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The shop used to host an annual Fourth of July party, and they’d often let regular customers come back and pay if they didn’t have enough money for a sandwich or groceries. The care and attention went beyond the sandwiches. The Roxie’s crew became a part of our everyday lives.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The walls outside now have graffiti-style murals to honor the late Kevin D. and Floyd S., two of the aforementioned OGs of the Roxie’s crew. Looking back on those early days, Shehadeh says his uncles were always looking out for the team, even when the rest of the neighborhood hadn’t yet accepted Floyd, who was Black and worked at the shop from when it opened in 1975 until he passed in 2011. “He was a really important part of the family,” Shehadeh says.” It was kind of hard — having him work with us in the beginning — because people didn’t like that we had an African American man working for us. We made it work and we told them, ‘He’s a really nice guy, a beautiful person.’”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929842\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929842\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1277\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-800x532.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-1020x678.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-160x106.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-768x511.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/RS64133_03312023_kqed_roxiesandwiches-026-qut-1536x1022.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Zunoona hands a bag of sandwiches to a longtime customer. The mural behind them honors former Roxie’s employees Kevin D. and Floyd S. \u003ccite>(Kori Suzuki/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>That sense of mutual respect and inclusivity imbued a fierce loyalty in the shop’s customers, who worried that new ownership would be a harbinger of the changing times — a result of growing gentrification in the Mission Terrace and Excelsior districts. “[My uncles] had seen that the community didn’t like that they wanted to sell, so they decided to pass it down, and we were happy to take over,” Shehadeh says. In any case, he says the neighborhood hasn’t changed as much as the rest of the city. It’s truly one of the most diverse zip codes left in San Francisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>“A lot of the elderly crowd has moved on and it’s now become more family-oriented,” he says. “Nice young families moving in, and everybody’s growing together.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The last time I visited Roxie’s before the old owners retired, Tony Tannous rang up my smoked turkey and asked how I’d been. Even two kids and two decades later, he still remembered my face — that’s just the kind of place it was. By that time, the pandemic was already taking a toll on the business. It was exhausting to be open seven days a week and hard to compete with food delivery options with cheaper ingredients. While the quality of sandwiches didn’t change, the world around it did, and something had to give. The Tannous brothers wrapped their last Dutch Crunch sandwich in 2021.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13929854\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13929854\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous.jpg\" alt=\"A selfie of a a woman in sunglasses and close-cropped hair posing with an older deli man in a black apron and 49ers shirt.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"2555\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-800x1065.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-1020x1357.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-768x1022.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-1154x1536.jpg 1154w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2023/05/FF-3-Roxie_s-Tony-Tannous-1539x2048.jpg 1539w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author poses for a selfie with Tony Tannous, one of the three Tannous brothers who opened Roxie’s in 1975. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though I’ve lived in Oakland for the past 12 years, I would trade the sunny weather at Lake Merritt for a foggy afternoon in the Excelsior any day, just to raise my two kids the same way I was raised: as part of a community that watched each other’s back and cared about each other’s well-being. I fell in love with their dad, \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/10445851/from-gangs-to-glory-bambus-political-hip-hop-for-the-people\">Bambu\u003c/a>, in the Excelsior, when I used to live in a shared apartment on Brazil and Madrid. After performing at the Filipino Community Center, we walked home hand in hand, partying into the night with my roommates and falling asleep to the sound of cars doing donuts in the intersection. It was the closest thing to heaven for an Excelsior girl.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Since he’s from Los Angeles, one of our first dates was at Roxie’s, where I introduced him to the things I loved most about the City. What I didn’t tell him until much later was that the boy from Delano Ave. that I used to love was behind the counter making our sandwich. With so much history in that shop, I spared him the silly details. This was my community, too, and I’d never let that tidbit spoil another amazing sandwich memory.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-12127869\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"800\" height=\"78\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/09/Q.Logo_.Break_-768x75.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"slug": "dungeness-crab-fishing-filipino-american-treasure-island-san-francisco",
"title": "As a Filipino American, Dungeness Crab Was Part of My OG San Francisco Childhood",
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"headTitle": "As a Filipino American, Dungeness Crab Was Part of My OG San Francisco Childhood | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]I[/dropcap] never learned how to fish when I was growing up in San Francisco, but I did learn how to go crabbing. We lived on Treasure Island — or T.I., as the locals call it — back when the man-made island was still an active naval base. All through my childhood, I was surrounded by the damp, salty smell of waves crashing upon an artificial seawall — the cawing of gulls, faint tapping of metal hooks on flagpoles and ever-present foghorn in the distance.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On winter nights, when the weather permitted, my friends and I would bundle up and walk out onto the wooden pier with a crab net, a package of defrosted chicken thighs ready to be strapped into the bait cage. As a kid, it was staying up late that made it exciting — the fattest Dungeness mostly fed at night. As a teenager, it was the camaraderie of wind-whipped faces and timing our beers to when we pulled up the net to examine our haul. I learned how to pick a stray crab up off a net — from behind — before it could scuttle away on the pier, then flip it over to see if we were lucky enough to get some roe out of the catch.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When our eyes started drooping and our stomachs started growling, we’d head back to the house for a feast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923170\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923170\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"Rocky Rivera watches from a camping chair while her cousin-in-law prepares a crab net.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Rocky Rivera watches while her cousin-in-law, Alyssa Tiglao (foreground), prepares the crab net at the Pacifica Municipal Pier. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Every Filipino American knows that the first order of duty after placing the crabs in the sink is to cook the rice, which was the only other dish we’d prepare to make it a full meal. Someone would boil the water or fire up the oven, and then each household would cook the crab according to their preferred method. Most of us boiled them in seawater (or salted water) to season the meat. We learned to first freeze the crabs to make them sleepy, then throw them in a steamer pot so that they retained their natural salinity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My sister always took the additional step of cracking each joint and pouring melted butter with garlic, tarragon, chili flakes and lemongrass over the crabs, then placing them in a hot oven to roast. Those extra ten minutes elevated the whole experience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When the crab was finally ready to eat, the rice pot went still steaming to the table, along with a saucer of tiltilan for each person so we could dip the crab into the mixture of cane vinegar, smashed garlic, salt and pepper before scooping up rice with our hands. Food always tasted better kamayan-style. After each delicious bite, we’d spoon crab liver and roe over the hot rice and savor the luxurious flavor that had only cost us our sleep and mild hypothermia — a cost we were always willing to pay. Each of us would eat at least three Dungeness apiece.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923173\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923173\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"Hands tying the rope knots on a crab net.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tying the rope knots on the crab net. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For Filipinos, our connection with crabs is baked right into the culture. According to old folk tales, Tambanokano was a gigantic crab who was a child of the Sun and Moon. He lived in a hole in the bottom of the ocean and controlled the tides with his movement. He was so powerful that every time he opened and closed his eyes, a bolt of lightning would flash.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13921079,arts_13915581']\u003c/span>Sometimes when Tambanokano would argue with his parents, he became so upset with his mother, the Moon, that he would chase after her and try to swallow her. The villagers would come out with their drums and scare him away in order to save the Moon — an early explanation for what I assume were lunar eclipses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought about those stories during the last dog days of summer this past year, on a day forecasted to be so hot that I’d schemed a coastal escape the night before. I wanted to get an early start toward Highway 1 from Oakland to beat the inland heat, so I called my cousin Nina in Pacifica, crossing my fingers that she was around for an impromptu beach day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I parked at her place, migrating my beach bag to the backseat of her car while she recited, “Hail Mary, full of grace, let us find a parking space.” It must have worked because someone left, and Nina busted a U so fast on the 1, we got honked at. We waved them off. As locals, sometimes audacity is all we got when it comes to prime parking. By 11 a.m. the cars were so backed up along the 1 that they looked like a glittering snake on the cliffside.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923175\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-13923175 size-full\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"One tiny crab scuttling along the edge of a crab net.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">One tiny Dungeness crab — too small to keep — scuttles around the edge of the net. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>[aside link1='https://youtu.be/4Ewc9krGDBQ?t=122,Watch: Fishing for the Best Catches at Pillar Point Harbor' hero='https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/Screen-Shot-2022-12-30-at-4.32.13-PM-e1672447239257.png' heroURL='https://youtu.be/4Ewc9krGDBQ?t=122']After soaking up all the rays I could get, I decided to cool off in the surf, which was when a big wave sent something tumbling onto my legs. It was a full-grown Dungeness crab, so close to me I instinctively bent down to pick it up off the sand. In that split second, I thought, “Wait…what do I look like bringing in a whole-ass crab with no cooler to put it in? With my bare hands?!” In that moment of hesitation, the ocean washed the crab away. When I looked over at Nina, I saw a crab at her feet, too, right before it was carried away by an incoming wave.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All we could do was shake our heads at the Disney \u003ci>Moana\u003c/i>-like ocean experience. And to both of us?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In all the times my cousins and I played in the ocean together as kids, it had never gifted us a Dungeness to our feet. But now, thousands of miles away from our motherland, the ancestors were kind enough to show themselves through this duo of surfing crabs. Maybe the great Tambonokano was still working his magic on the tides and waves, after all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923178\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923178\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A toddler, bundled up in warm winter clothes, eats a cracker during a family crabbing trip.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author’s nephew, Kannon Scott-de Leon, on his first crabbing trip. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For the past four years, our family’s crab tradition has been postponed later and later due to the spread of toxic algae in the warming western waters where the Dungeness crabs live. This year’s commercial crab season was supposed to start on Dec. 1, my birthday, before it got pushed back again to the 31st. We’ve played it safe and waited patiently, but the only redeeming quality about having a birthday in December is crab season. Real Frisco heads know this.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But with the price of everything in our city going up, and pollution pushing our annual crab feasts further back, this pastime could be soon over by the time my daughter is old enough to throw her own crab net into the Bay.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[pullquote size=\"large\" align=\"right\"]“Maybe that’s the mark of a real San Franciscan: that you love something that no longer exists, or that’s slipping away before your very eyes.”[/pullquote]\u003c/span>The wooden pier on Treasure Island where my family used to crab was condemned, then demolished, a couple years back, replaced by a small ferry pier. And catching Dungeness within the San Francisco Bay hasn’t been legal since the early 2000s anyway. Recently, a young architectural intern showed me a render of plans for the new T.I., in which glass-covered condo skyscrapers would replace the old aviation museum and soldier barracks. Even though those of us who grew up in the tiny island community always knew about the real estate potential and million-dollar view, it’s still strange to see the construction cranes \u003ca href=\"https://youtu.be/qJVTQi1KXzg\">making those changes a reality\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Maybe that’s the mark of a real San Franciscan: that you love something that no longer exists, or that’s slipping away before your very eyes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923179\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923179\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A nighttime family portrait taken on the pier in Pacifica.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">For Rocky Rivera, crab fishing has always been a family affair. Pictured from left to right: Alyssa Tiglao, Kannon Scott-de Leon, Mark Scott-de Leon, Makai Scott-de Leon, Nina Parks and Rivera. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Yet at the start of every crab season, I still splurge. On Christmas, when my sister is in town, we head over to Ranch 99 or the Pacific Supermarket on Alemany Ave. and prepare a whole platter in the way we know best, extra steps and all. We don’t forget to pick up some newspapers outside of the store — no one reads ’em anyway — and drape them over the table to absorb the butter and hold the shells.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I tell myself that with all the practice from childhood, I could have caught Tambanokano himself with my bare hands. But that magical crab wouldn’t have been pleased. Every responsible crabber knows that we only take what’s necessary and leave the rest for next year’s catch.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-12904247\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"400\" height=\"39\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-160x16.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-240x23.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-375x37.jpg 375w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 400px) 100vw, 400px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"title": "As a Filipino American, Dungeness Crab Was Part of My OG San Francisco Childhood | KQED",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">I\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp> never learned how to fish when I was growing up in San Francisco, but I did learn how to go crabbing. We lived on Treasure Island — or T.I., as the locals call it — back when the man-made island was still an active naval base. All through my childhood, I was surrounded by the damp, salty smell of waves crashing upon an artificial seawall — the cawing of gulls, faint tapping of metal hooks on flagpoles and ever-present foghorn in the distance.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On winter nights, when the weather permitted, my friends and I would bundle up and walk out onto the wooden pier with a crab net, a package of defrosted chicken thighs ready to be strapped into the bait cage. As a kid, it was staying up late that made it exciting — the fattest Dungeness mostly fed at night. As a teenager, it was the camaraderie of wind-whipped faces and timing our beers to when we pulled up the net to examine our haul. I learned how to pick a stray crab up off a net — from behind — before it could scuttle away on the pier, then flip it over to see if we were lucky enough to get some roe out of the catch.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When our eyes started drooping and our stomachs started growling, we’d head back to the house for a feast.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923170\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923170\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"Rocky Rivera watches from a camping chair while her cousin-in-law prepares a crab net.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61775_009_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Rocky Rivera watches while her cousin-in-law, Alyssa Tiglao (foreground), prepares the crab net at the Pacifica Municipal Pier. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Every Filipino American knows that the first order of duty after placing the crabs in the sink is to cook the rice, which was the only other dish we’d prepare to make it a full meal. Someone would boil the water or fire up the oven, and then each household would cook the crab according to their preferred method. Most of us boiled them in seawater (or salted water) to season the meat. We learned to first freeze the crabs to make them sleepy, then throw them in a steamer pot so that they retained their natural salinity.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My sister always took the additional step of cracking each joint and pouring melted butter with garlic, tarragon, chili flakes and lemongrass over the crabs, then placing them in a hot oven to roast. Those extra ten minutes elevated the whole experience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>When the crab was finally ready to eat, the rice pot went still steaming to the table, along with a saucer of tiltilan for each person so we could dip the crab into the mixture of cane vinegar, smashed garlic, salt and pepper before scooping up rice with our hands. Food always tasted better kamayan-style. After each delicious bite, we’d spoon crab liver and roe over the hot rice and savor the luxurious flavor that had only cost us our sleep and mild hypothermia — a cost we were always willing to pay. Each of us would eat at least three Dungeness apiece.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923173\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923173\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"Hands tying the rope knots on a crab net.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61768_005_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tying the rope knots on the crab net. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For Filipinos, our connection with crabs is baked right into the culture. According to old folk tales, Tambanokano was a gigantic crab who was a child of the Sun and Moon. He lived in a hole in the bottom of the ocean and controlled the tides with his movement. He was so powerful that every time he opened and closed his eyes, a bolt of lightning would flash.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>Sometimes when Tambanokano would argue with his parents, he became so upset with his mother, the Moon, that he would chase after her and try to swallow her. The villagers would come out with their drums and scare him away in order to save the Moon — an early explanation for what I assume were lunar eclipses.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought about those stories during the last dog days of summer this past year, on a day forecasted to be so hot that I’d schemed a coastal escape the night before. I wanted to get an early start toward Highway 1 from Oakland to beat the inland heat, so I called my cousin Nina in Pacifica, crossing my fingers that she was around for an impromptu beach day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I parked at her place, migrating my beach bag to the backseat of her car while she recited, “Hail Mary, full of grace, let us find a parking space.” It must have worked because someone left, and Nina busted a U so fast on the 1, we got honked at. We waved them off. As locals, sometimes audacity is all we got when it comes to prime parking. By 11 a.m. the cars were so backed up along the 1 that they looked like a glittering snake on the cliffside.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923175\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-13923175 size-full\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"One tiny crab scuttling along the edge of a crab net.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61783_022_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">One tiny Dungeness crab — too small to keep — scuttles around the edge of the net. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"link1": "https://youtu.be/4Ewc9krGDBQ?t=122,Watch: Fishing for the Best Catches at Pillar Point Harbor",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>After soaking up all the rays I could get, I decided to cool off in the surf, which was when a big wave sent something tumbling onto my legs. It was a full-grown Dungeness crab, so close to me I instinctively bent down to pick it up off the sand. In that split second, I thought, “Wait…what do I look like bringing in a whole-ass crab with no cooler to put it in? With my bare hands?!” In that moment of hesitation, the ocean washed the crab away. When I looked over at Nina, I saw a crab at her feet, too, right before it was carried away by an incoming wave.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All we could do was shake our heads at the Disney \u003ci>Moana\u003c/i>-like ocean experience. And to both of us?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In all the times my cousins and I played in the ocean together as kids, it had never gifted us a Dungeness to our feet. But now, thousands of miles away from our motherland, the ancestors were kind enough to show themselves through this duo of surfing crabs. Maybe the great Tambonokano was still working his magic on the tides and waves, after all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923178\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923178\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A toddler, bundled up in warm winter clothes, eats a cracker during a family crabbing trip.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61769_003_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author’s nephew, Kannon Scott-de Leon, on his first crabbing trip. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>For the past four years, our family’s crab tradition has been postponed later and later due to the spread of toxic algae in the warming western waters where the Dungeness crabs live. This year’s commercial crab season was supposed to start on Dec. 1, my birthday, before it got pushed back again to the 31st. We’ve played it safe and waited patiently, but the only redeeming quality about having a birthday in December is crab season. Real Frisco heads know this.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But with the price of everything in our city going up, and pollution pushing our annual crab feasts further back, this pastime could be soon over by the time my daughter is old enough to throw her own crab net into the Bay.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "“Maybe that’s the mark of a real San Franciscan: that you love something that no longer exists, or that’s slipping away before your very eyes.”",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>The wooden pier on Treasure Island where my family used to crab was condemned, then demolished, a couple years back, replaced by a small ferry pier. And catching Dungeness within the San Francisco Bay hasn’t been legal since the early 2000s anyway. Recently, a young architectural intern showed me a render of plans for the new T.I., in which glass-covered condo skyscrapers would replace the old aviation museum and soldier barracks. Even though those of us who grew up in the tiny island community always knew about the real estate potential and million-dollar view, it’s still strange to see the construction cranes \u003ca href=\"https://youtu.be/qJVTQi1KXzg\">making those changes a reality\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Maybe that’s the mark of a real San Franciscan: that you love something that no longer exists, or that’s slipping away before your very eyes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13923179\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13923179\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg\" alt=\"A nighttime family portrait taken on the pier in Pacifica.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1280\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1020x680.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-160x107.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/12/RS61788_024_KQEDArts_RockyRiveraCrabbing_12192022-qut-1536x1024.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">For Rocky Rivera, crab fishing has always been a family affair. Pictured from left to right: Alyssa Tiglao, Kannon Scott-de Leon, Mark Scott-de Leon, Makai Scott-de Leon, Nina Parks and Rivera. \u003ccite>(Beth LaBerge/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Yet at the start of every crab season, I still splurge. On Christmas, when my sister is in town, we head over to Ranch 99 or the Pacific Supermarket on Alemany Ave. and prepare a whole platter in the way we know best, extra steps and all. We don’t forget to pick up some newspapers outside of the store — no one reads ’em anyway — and drape them over the table to absorb the butter and hold the shells.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I tell myself that with all the practice from childhood, I could have caught Tambanokano himself with my bare hands. But that magical crab wouldn’t have been pleased. Every responsible crabber knows that we only take what’s necessary and leave the rest for next year’s catch.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-12904247\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"400\" height=\"39\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-160x16.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-240x23.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-375x37.jpg 375w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 400px) 100vw, 400px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "A Food Altar for My Mom, Who Taught Me to Love to Eat",
"headTitle": "A Food Altar for My Mom, Who Taught Me to Love to Eat | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[dropcap]W[/dropcap]hen I lost my mom in May of 2020, two months after lockdown, I couldn’t mourn in a normal way. Instead of hugs and in-person condolences, I received pings on my Venmo account from all my cousins telling me to order takeout instead of cooking. Not that I could have. I could barely stand up in the shower. The grief was so heavy amidst the isolation of shelter in place that all I can remember was the silence — and the occasional knock on the door for a flower shop delivery or a Caviar order.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I found a Filipino restaurant in Oakland called \u003ca href=\"https://tipunan.com/\">Tipunan\u003c/a> that delivered beef rib sinigang soup with the perfect amount of tamarind sourness and crispy pork belly karé karé, with its golden, peanut butter-based sauce and side of fermented shrimp paste to cut through the fat. Of all the condolences sent, this one felt the most appropriate. After all, I had learned to taste food through my mother’s hands when she \u003ci>subu\u003c/i>’d me as a baby and, later, through the cultural sensibilities I inherited from being born in the Philippines — acquiring a palate for things like ampalaya (bitter melon) and burong mustasa (fermented mustard greens).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I grew up quite literally in the middle of the Bay on Treasure Island Naval Base, but my mother was the true bridge between two cities, two hemispheres and two cultures.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She was also the one who taught me to be a foodie. I remember how my mom would fix plates of Filipino-style spaghetti for the construction workers working on our building, and how she’d take me to Pier 39 to eat Dungeness crab and clam chowder with oyster crackers, a cacophony of sea lions nearby. I remember perusing Japantown with her after her massage appointments, sipping toasted rice tea and eating green tea ice cream at Kintetsu Mall. I remember how she brought home sugarcane from the Alemany farmers market. My sisters and I would crunch down and suck up the sweet juice before spitting out the stalk like some kid version of chewing tobacco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921119\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921119\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island.jpg\" alt=\"A young girl with windswept hair dressed in all red; the pier and waterfront at Treasure Island is in the background.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1440\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-800x600.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-1020x765.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-768x576.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author as a child at the waterfront on Treasure Island, where she grew up. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The eldest of ten siblings, my mom always woke up at dawn to cook breakfast, most likely silog-style: vinegar-marinated milkfish or salted dried fish with rice and a side of fresh tomato, mango and onion. She’d go back to sleep while everyone else ate. She taught me my native language, Kapampangan, and told me that our people were the best chefs in the Philippines. She even used to brag about raising me a vegetarian — after all, we had access to canned veg-meat in our hometown years before it hit the American mainstream. (These days it would be more accurate to call us flexitarians. We Filipinos \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13914750/inay-dalisay-world-famous-lechon-vegan-filipino-play-bindlestiff\">have a hard time\u003c/a> parting with \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13915581/lechon-filipino-american-party-oriental-food-market-concord\">meat\u003c/a> entirely.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Throughout my adolescence, my mom expressed the truest love language of an Asian mother, bringing me cut cantaloupes, persimmons and mangoes to my room while I was doing my homework. “Tin … anak … mangan na ka (you eat now),” she’d say to me. It’s no wonder that Filipinos greet each other not with pleasantries, but with inquiries of whether you’ve eaten yet.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For me, being a foodie always meant that I enjoyed everyone else’s cooking — my mom’s, my sister’s, my grandma’s, my Tita Lita’s — but never dared to learn or replicate. Why would I when I could just enjoy the fruits of their labor? But now that my daughter is the same age I was when my family immigrated to San Francisco, I’ve learned to cook a few signature dishes: garlic noodles, made with copious amounts of butter, and my Lolo Pepé’s catfish adobo recipe, which my mother passed down to me — with no measurements, of course. It would depend on what was in Mom’s fridge that day. It always required a tomato soft enough to thicken the sauce undetected. But sometimes it would have pepperoncini or jalapeños in it. Sometimes lemongrass. My mother cooked it whenever my partner was in town because he was pescatarian and it was his favorite dish she made.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921125\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1707px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921125\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A home altar for honoring the ancestors, covered with framed photos, decorative skulls and food offerings.\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-scaled.jpg 1707w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-800x1200.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-1020x1529.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-1024x1536.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-1366x2048.jpg 1366w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author’s home altar for honoring her ancestors. At the very top are framed photos of her mother and her father-in-law Danny. \u003ccite>(Fernando Godinez)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Mom, my Lola Luz and my Tita Lita — who passed away in January — are all gone now. It’s up to my sisters, cousins and I to keep those food memories going, if only to thread our past with our future. These days, I try to continue the Kapampangan traditions with my kids while also incorporating our Americanized palates. I inherited a white-cheddar-and-thyme corn pudding recipe from Tita Lita, who cooked like a Filipina Ina Garten on steroids. Every year, she would roast a separate display turkey to serve alongside the cut pieces of the one she’d already carved — mainly for aesthetics but also to feed our huge family.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At her memorial this past January, I made the corn pudding for the family and silently noted the differences in taste due to my use of extra large eggs and the fact that I hadn’t let the batter come to room temperature before baking. Even in death, mine couldn’t compare. I plan on perfecting it this year, and every year after, for Turkey Day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921122\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1125px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921122\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita.jpg\" alt=\"An older woman in a red apron sets up a huge spread of food for an outdoor family gathering.\" width=\"1125\" height=\"844\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita.jpg 1125w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-800x600.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-1020x765.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-768x576.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1125px) 100vw, 1125px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tita Lita was like a Filipino Ina Garten, known for cooking up an enormous spread of food for family gatherings. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>A few months after my mom passed, during that brief moment in the pandemic when things opened up and closed just as fast, I was able to secure a tattoo appointment. In honor of my departed mom, I chose a young picture of her, along with a young San Francisco skyline — no Salesforce Tower in sight — with the Bay Bridge as a backdrop. At the bottom, in curlicued script, are the words “Frisco Queen.” The image represents a time when my mom came here to build a new life as a nurse, a choice to immigrate to this very place and make it our new home. Through every hardship, she was always there for her kids: She was the one who pulled me out of school on my birthday and took me shopping at the downtown FAO Schwartz (RIP), or at the dress shops on Mission after visits to the dentist. She was the one who handled things the first time I got stung by a bee, on the 14 Mission, slamming her thick nursing book once with a heavy thud.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[pullquote size=\"large\" align=\"right\"]“It was because of my mom that I am proud to be a first-generation immigrant daughter — that my identity, though split, could pledge no true allegiance to either side.”[/pullquote]\u003c/span>As the artist — another Frisco native, as we call ourselves — buzzed away at my right thigh, I meditated on the physical pain that felt like a conduit to what I was going through emotionally. It was cathartic. It was heartbreaking. But it was an emblem of survival for me, an homage to my mother and to the place she brought me that I now call home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For much of my life, I wished I was “Born and Raised” like my friends who were delivered at St. Luke’s (RIP) or General Hospital in the city. But it was because of my mom that I am proud to be a first-generation immigrant daughter — that my identity, though split, could pledge no true allegiance to either side, but took only the best of both worlds: the Philippines \u003ci>and\u003c/i> Frisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921127\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921127\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo.jpg\" alt='A thigh tattoo shows a young woman standing in front of the San Francisco skyline, with the words \"Frisco Queen\" written underneath in cursive.' width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tattoo to honor a true “Frisco Queen.” \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When I moved out on my own after college in the early aughts, I created an altar in my home to honor my ancestors. It was a way for me to stay spiritually connected while rejecting colonizer-imposed Catholicism. At first, it only contained my pictures of my grandfather and my Aunt Agnes, who had passed away at 33. When we moved the altar to the outside balcony, the sugar skulls were soon invaded by pests, the ceremonial chocolate from Colombia eaten and the altar toppled by roof rats. After that, I moved it back inside. Now, it’s crowded with loved ones who passed within the last five years, the most impactful being my father-in-law, my Tita Lita and, of course, my mother.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">[aside postID='arts_13915581,arts_13913828']\u003c/span>I was too broken to make a food altar for my mother on Araw ng mga Patay (All Saints Day), the Filipino version of Día de los Muertos, the year she passed. I was too sad to even feed myself and instead ordered Tipunan again to comfort myself, the takeout cartons taking the place of the traditional catfish adobo she had taught me to make.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The last time she visited us in Oakland, my mother soared over the zoo in the gondola, laughing as she pointed out all the animals below she could prepare adobo-style. Toward the end of her life, as her health deteriorated, she began to only speak to me in Kapampangan. It was a gift that I was still able to understand her. Meanwhile, my Tita Lita, who famously never cooked Filipino food during the holidays, began to request it from us as she recovered from her first stroke, and again a decade later while succumbing to her next. And my father-in-law, Danny, used to order sisig for every family party after I requested it just one time, even though half of his biological children are now vegan.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921129\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1707px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921129\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"Close-up of a section of a home altar, with a plate of Filipino sisig on display as an offering to the dead.\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-scaled.jpg 1707w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-800x1200.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-1020x1529.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-1024x1536.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-1366x2048.jpg 1366w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The plate of sisig is an offering to the author’s father-in-law, who insisted on ordering it for family parties even after many of his children became vegan. \u003ccite>(Fernando Godinez)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The comfort of familiarity is too strong in the end, especially as we are close to death. And as immigrants and children of immigrants, our relationship to food is the strongest relationship we have to culture and lineage, because food is made and prepared with love when it is made at home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This Día de los Muertos, I am returning to that food altar with my recently passed loved ones in mind. Persimmons for Mom and Tita Lita, their favorite winter fruit. A mango for my motherland (and the name of the enchi ball python we bought to celebrate \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13894648/rapper-and-activist-rocky-rivera-embraces-growth-in-her-first-book-snakeskin\">the release of my book\u003c/a> — and to keep future roof rats away). A plate of sisig for my father-in-law. A joint for my boy Dex, who just passed from cancer. And a plate of garlic noodles for the Frisco that only exists in my memories now, made with love by Yours Truly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As we eat and savor each bite with our ancestors, remembering places and names that no longer exist on this earthly plane, we say thank you for the sustenance. And the memories. This will be our first holiday without many of them, and I can only hope to be half the foodie they were.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921131\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A framed photo of an older Filipino woman in a polka dotted blouse.\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-scaled.jpg 1707w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-800x1200.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-1020x1529.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-1024x1536.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-1366x2048.jpg 1366w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-12904247\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"400\" height=\"39\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-160x16.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-240x23.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-375x37.jpg 375w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 400px) 100vw, 400px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Frisco Foodies is a recurring column in which a San Francisco local shares food memories of growing up in a now rapidly changing city.\u003c/em>\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class=\"utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__dropcapShortcode__dropcap\">W\u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>hen I lost my mom in May of 2020, two months after lockdown, I couldn’t mourn in a normal way. Instead of hugs and in-person condolences, I received pings on my Venmo account from all my cousins telling me to order takeout instead of cooking. Not that I could have. I could barely stand up in the shower. The grief was so heavy amidst the isolation of shelter in place that all I can remember was the silence — and the occasional knock on the door for a flower shop delivery or a Caviar order.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I found a Filipino restaurant in Oakland called \u003ca href=\"https://tipunan.com/\">Tipunan\u003c/a> that delivered beef rib sinigang soup with the perfect amount of tamarind sourness and crispy pork belly karé karé, with its golden, peanut butter-based sauce and side of fermented shrimp paste to cut through the fat. Of all the condolences sent, this one felt the most appropriate. After all, I had learned to taste food through my mother’s hands when she \u003ci>subu\u003c/i>’d me as a baby and, later, through the cultural sensibilities I inherited from being born in the Philippines — acquiring a palate for things like ampalaya (bitter melon) and burong mustasa (fermented mustard greens).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I grew up quite literally in the middle of the Bay on Treasure Island Naval Base, but my mother was the true bridge between two cities, two hemispheres and two cultures.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>She was also the one who taught me to be a foodie. I remember how my mom would fix plates of Filipino-style spaghetti for the construction workers working on our building, and how she’d take me to Pier 39 to eat Dungeness crab and clam chowder with oyster crackers, a cacophony of sea lions nearby. I remember perusing Japantown with her after her massage appointments, sipping toasted rice tea and eating green tea ice cream at Kintetsu Mall. I remember how she brought home sugarcane from the Alemany farmers market. My sisters and I would crunch down and suck up the sweet juice before spitting out the stalk like some kid version of chewing tobacco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921119\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921119\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island.jpg\" alt=\"A young girl with windswept hair dressed in all red; the pier and waterfront at Treasure Island is in the background.\" width=\"1920\" height=\"1440\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-800x600.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-1020x765.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-768x576.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/rocky-treasure-island-1536x1152.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author as a child at the waterfront on Treasure Island, where she grew up. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The eldest of ten siblings, my mom always woke up at dawn to cook breakfast, most likely silog-style: vinegar-marinated milkfish or salted dried fish with rice and a side of fresh tomato, mango and onion. She’d go back to sleep while everyone else ate. She taught me my native language, Kapampangan, and told me that our people were the best chefs in the Philippines. She even used to brag about raising me a vegetarian — after all, we had access to canned veg-meat in our hometown years before it hit the American mainstream. (These days it would be more accurate to call us flexitarians. We Filipinos \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13914750/inay-dalisay-world-famous-lechon-vegan-filipino-play-bindlestiff\">have a hard time\u003c/a> parting with \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13915581/lechon-filipino-american-party-oriental-food-market-concord\">meat\u003c/a> entirely.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Throughout my adolescence, my mom expressed the truest love language of an Asian mother, bringing me cut cantaloupes, persimmons and mangoes to my room while I was doing my homework. “Tin … anak … mangan na ka (you eat now),” she’d say to me. It’s no wonder that Filipinos greet each other not with pleasantries, but with inquiries of whether you’ve eaten yet.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For me, being a foodie always meant that I enjoyed everyone else’s cooking — my mom’s, my sister’s, my grandma’s, my Tita Lita’s — but never dared to learn or replicate. Why would I when I could just enjoy the fruits of their labor? But now that my daughter is the same age I was when my family immigrated to San Francisco, I’ve learned to cook a few signature dishes: garlic noodles, made with copious amounts of butter, and my Lolo Pepé’s catfish adobo recipe, which my mother passed down to me — with no measurements, of course. It would depend on what was in Mom’s fridge that day. It always required a tomato soft enough to thicken the sauce undetected. But sometimes it would have pepperoncini or jalapeños in it. Sometimes lemongrass. My mother cooked it whenever my partner was in town because he was pescatarian and it was his favorite dish she made.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921125\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1707px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921125\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A home altar for honoring the ancestors, covered with framed photos, decorative skulls and food offerings.\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-scaled.jpg 1707w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-800x1200.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-1020x1529.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-1024x1536.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/food-altar_full-1366x2048.jpg 1366w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The author’s home altar for honoring her ancestors. At the very top are framed photos of her mother and her father-in-law Danny. \u003ccite>(Fernando Godinez)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Mom, my Lola Luz and my Tita Lita — who passed away in January — are all gone now. It’s up to my sisters, cousins and I to keep those food memories going, if only to thread our past with our future. These days, I try to continue the Kapampangan traditions with my kids while also incorporating our Americanized palates. I inherited a white-cheddar-and-thyme corn pudding recipe from Tita Lita, who cooked like a Filipina Ina Garten on steroids. Every year, she would roast a separate display turkey to serve alongside the cut pieces of the one she’d already carved — mainly for aesthetics but also to feed our huge family.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At her memorial this past January, I made the corn pudding for the family and silently noted the differences in taste due to my use of extra large eggs and the fact that I hadn’t let the batter come to room temperature before baking. Even in death, mine couldn’t compare. I plan on perfecting it this year, and every year after, for Turkey Day.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921122\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1125px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921122\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita.jpg\" alt=\"An older woman in a red apron sets up a huge spread of food for an outdoor family gathering.\" width=\"1125\" height=\"844\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita.jpg 1125w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-800x600.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-1020x765.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-160x120.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Tita-Lita-768x576.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1125px) 100vw, 1125px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Tita Lita was like a Filipino Ina Garten, known for cooking up an enormous spread of food for family gatherings. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>A few months after my mom passed, during that brief moment in the pandemic when things opened up and closed just as fast, I was able to secure a tattoo appointment. In honor of my departed mom, I chose a young picture of her, along with a young San Francisco skyline — no Salesforce Tower in sight — with the Bay Bridge as a backdrop. At the bottom, in curlicued script, are the words “Frisco Queen.” The image represents a time when my mom came here to build a new life as a nurse, a choice to immigrate to this very place and make it our new home. Through every hardship, she was always there for her kids: She was the one who pulled me out of school on my birthday and took me shopping at the downtown FAO Schwartz (RIP), or at the dress shops on Mission after visits to the dentist. She was the one who handled things the first time I got stung by a bee, on the 14 Mission, slamming her thick nursing book once with a heavy thud.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "“It was because of my mom that I am proud to be a first-generation immigrant daughter — that my identity, though split, could pledge no true allegiance to either side.”",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>As the artist — another Frisco native, as we call ourselves — buzzed away at my right thigh, I meditated on the physical pain that felt like a conduit to what I was going through emotionally. It was cathartic. It was heartbreaking. But it was an emblem of survival for me, an homage to my mother and to the place she brought me that I now call home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For much of my life, I wished I was “Born and Raised” like my friends who were delivered at St. Luke’s (RIP) or General Hospital in the city. But it was because of my mom that I am proud to be a first-generation immigrant daughter — that my identity, though split, could pledge no true allegiance to either side, but took only the best of both worlds: the Philippines \u003ci>and\u003c/i> Frisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921127\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1920px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921127\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo.jpg\" alt='A thigh tattoo shows a young woman standing in front of the San Francisco skyline, with the words \"Frisco Queen\" written underneath in cursive.' width=\"1920\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-800x1067.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-1020x1360.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-160x213.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/Mama-Tattoo-1536x2048.jpg 1536w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1920px) 100vw, 1920px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A tattoo to honor a true “Frisco Queen.” \u003ccite>(Rocky Rivera)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>When I moved out on my own after college in the early aughts, I created an altar in my home to honor my ancestors. It was a way for me to stay spiritually connected while rejecting colonizer-imposed Catholicism. At first, it only contained my pictures of my grandfather and my Aunt Agnes, who had passed away at 33. When we moved the altar to the outside balcony, the sugar skulls were soon invaded by pests, the ceremonial chocolate from Colombia eaten and the altar toppled by roof rats. After that, I moved it back inside. Now, it’s crowded with loved ones who passed within the last five years, the most impactful being my father-in-law, my Tita Lita and, of course, my mother.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cspan style=\"font-weight: 400\">\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/span>I was too broken to make a food altar for my mother on Araw ng mga Patay (All Saints Day), the Filipino version of Día de los Muertos, the year she passed. I was too sad to even feed myself and instead ordered Tipunan again to comfort myself, the takeout cartons taking the place of the traditional catfish adobo she had taught me to make.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The last time she visited us in Oakland, my mother soared over the zoo in the gondola, laughing as she pointed out all the animals below she could prepare adobo-style. Toward the end of her life, as her health deteriorated, she began to only speak to me in Kapampangan. It was a gift that I was still able to understand her. Meanwhile, my Tita Lita, who famously never cooked Filipino food during the holidays, began to request it from us as she recovered from her first stroke, and again a decade later while succumbing to her next. And my father-in-law, Danny, used to order sisig for every family party after I requested it just one time, even though half of his biological children are now vegan.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_13921129\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 1707px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921129\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"Close-up of a section of a home altar, with a plate of Filipino sisig on display as an offering to the dead.\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-scaled.jpg 1707w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-800x1200.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-1020x1529.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-1024x1536.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/altar-sisig-1366x2048.jpg 1366w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The plate of sisig is an offering to the author’s father-in-law, who insisted on ordering it for family parties even after many of his children became vegan. \u003ccite>(Fernando Godinez)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The comfort of familiarity is too strong in the end, especially as we are close to death. And as immigrants and children of immigrants, our relationship to food is the strongest relationship we have to culture and lineage, because food is made and prepared with love when it is made at home.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This Día de los Muertos, I am returning to that food altar with my recently passed loved ones in mind. Persimmons for Mom and Tita Lita, their favorite winter fruit. A mango for my motherland (and the name of the enchi ball python we bought to celebrate \u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13894648/rapper-and-activist-rocky-rivera-embraces-growth-in-her-first-book-snakeskin\">the release of my book\u003c/a> — and to keep future roof rats away). A plate of sisig for my father-in-law. A joint for my boy Dex, who just passed from cancer. And a plate of garlic noodles for the Frisco that only exists in my memories now, made with love by Yours Truly.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As we eat and savor each bite with our ancestors, remembering places and names that no longer exist on this earthly plane, we say thank you for the sustenance. And the memories. This will be our first holiday without many of them, and I can only hope to be half the foodie they were.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-13921131\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-scaled.jpg\" alt=\"A framed photo of an older Filipino woman in a polka dotted blouse.\" width=\"1707\" height=\"2560\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-scaled.jpg 1707w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-800x1200.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-1020x1529.jpg 1020w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-160x240.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-768x1152.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-1024x1536.jpg 1024w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2022/10/mom-altar-1366x2048.jpg 1366w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1707px) 100vw, 1707px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-12904247\" src=\"https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"400\" height=\"39\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-160x16.jpg 160w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-240x23.jpg 240w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2017/03/Q.Logo_.Break_-400x39-375x37.jpg 375w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 400px) 100vw, 400px\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.kqed.org/arts/13921079/mom-tribute-dia-de-los-muertos-filipino-food-altar-frisco-foodies\">Rocky Rivera\u003c/a> is a journalist, emcee, author and activist from San Francisco. She has four musical projects out, three of those with her label Beatrock Music. She released her first book last year, entitled \u003c/em>Snakeskin: Essays by Rocky Rivera\u003cem>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"info": "What kind of no sabo word is Hyphenación? For us, it’s about living within a hyphenation. Like being a third-gen Mexican-American from the Texas border now living that Bay Area Chicano life. Like Xorje! Each week we bring together a couple of hyphenated Latinos to talk all about personal life choices: family, careers, relationships, belonging … everything is on the table. ",
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"info": "Our flagship program, helmed by Kai Ryssdal, examines what the day in money delivered, through stories, conversations, newsworthy numbers and more. Updated Monday through Friday at about 3:30 p.m. PT.",
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"mindshift": {
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"info": "The MindShift podcast explores the innovations in education that are shaping how kids learn. Hosts Ki Sung and Katrina Schwartz introduce listeners to educators, researchers, parents and students who are developing effective ways to improve how kids learn. We cover topics like how fed-up administrators are developing surprising tactics to deal with classroom disruptions; how listening to podcasts are helping kids develop reading skills; the consequences of overparenting; and why interdisciplinary learning can engage students on all ends of the traditional achievement spectrum. This podcast is part of the MindShift education site, a division of KQED News. KQED is an NPR/PBS member station based in San Francisco. You can also visit the MindShift website for episodes and supplemental blog posts or tweet us \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/MindShiftKQED\">@MindShiftKQED\u003c/a> or visit us at \u003ca href=\"/mindshift\">MindShift.KQED.org\u003c/a>",
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"order": 12
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"info": "For decades, the process for how police police themselves has been inconsistent – if not opaque. In some states, like California, these proceedings were completely hidden. After a new police transparency law unsealed scores of internal affairs files, our reporters set out to examine these cases and the shadow world of police discipline. On Our Watch brings listeners into the rooms where officers are questioned and witnesses are interrogated to find out who this system is really protecting. Is it the officers, or the public they've sworn to serve?",
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"tagline": "Politics from a personal perspective",
"info": "Political Breakdown is a new series that explores the political intersection of California and the nation. Each week hosts Scott Shafer and Marisa Lagos are joined with a new special guest to unpack politics -- with personality — and offer an insider’s glimpse at how politics happens.",
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"possible": {
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"info": "Possible is hosted by entrepreneur Reid Hoffman and writer Aria Finger. Together in Possible, Hoffman and Finger lead enlightening discussions about building a brighter collective future. The show features interviews with visionary guests like Trevor Noah, Sam Altman and Janette Sadik-Khan. Possible paints an optimistic portrait of the world we can create through science, policy, business, art and our shared humanity. It asks: What if everything goes right for once? How can we get there? Each episode also includes a short fiction story generated by advanced AI GPT-4, serving as a thought-provoking springboard to speculate how humanity could leverage technology for good.",
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"pri-the-world": {
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"info": "Each weekday, host Marco Werman and his team of producers bring you the world's most interesting stories in an hour of radio that reminds us just how small our planet really is.",
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"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-World-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
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},
"radiolab": {
"id": "radiolab",
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"info": "A two-time Peabody Award-winner, Radiolab is an investigation told through sounds and stories, and centered around one big idea. In the Radiolab world, information sounds like music and science and culture collide. Hosted by Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich, the show is designed for listeners who demand skepticism, but appreciate wonder. WNYC Studios is the producer of other leading podcasts including Freakonomics Radio, Death, Sex & Money, On the Media and many more.",
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},
"reveal": {
"id": "reveal",
"title": "Reveal",
"info": "Created by The Center for Investigative Reporting and PRX, Reveal is public radios first one-hour weekly radio show and podcast dedicated to investigative reporting. Credible, fact based and without a partisan agenda, Reveal combines the power and artistry of driveway moment storytelling with data-rich reporting on critically important issues. The result is stories that inform and inspire, arming our listeners with information to right injustices, hold the powerful accountable and improve lives.Reveal is hosted by Al Letson and showcases the award-winning work of CIR and newsrooms large and small across the nation. In a radio and podcast market crowded with choices, Reveal focuses on important and often surprising stories that illuminate the world for our listeners.",
"airtime": "SAT 4pm-5pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/reveal300px.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.revealnews.org/episodes/",
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},
"rightnowish": {
"id": "rightnowish",
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