Tasty Places :: Blue Bottle Coffee & Rolling Dunes

I’m already a sucker for a clean, bright, hipster space. Add coffee and waffles and I could move in for weeks. Lucky for my family, the closest waffle-serving Blue Bottle Coffee is some 300 miles north of home so daily commutes to and from Long Beach to there would make it difficult to get my kid to school in the mornings and back home in plenty of time to make supper for the husband.

Over the week of New Year’s, I was at my parents’ home in Stockton, my back out of whack from several nights rest on the sofa bed and my brain fried from waiting, waiting, waiting out slow Wi-Fi. Before heading back down to Long Beach, I thought it might be nice to take a drive west to the Bay Area to visit family, a nice bulk of my cousins and an aunt and uncle living there. And since I’d be there, why not check out a spot that I’d heard about for years from a co-worker of mine, who’d raved of a certain coffee place with delicious waffles ever since returning from a conference in San Francisco. Blue Bottle Coffee. I looked it up.

First lesson learned was that this place was no longer just a Bay Area favorite; that there were now a couple of locations in Southern California. But I also discovered was that not all of their outposts serve waffles. And I wanted a waffle; after finding that the LA stores were waffle-challenged, I figured this was my chance.

I’d expected to have to cross the Bay Bridge to get to a Blue Bottle before visiting with my family in Oakland, paying a toll and shelling out even more to park at the Ferry Building in San Francisco. But be still my heart – there was a location in Oakland, and – gasp! – it served waffles! It was on.

The morning of my outing, I overslept and had difficulty getting the kids awake as we’d resorted to staying up until 2:00 or 3:00 while on vacation, settling down for breakfast each morning by 11:15. I’d planned to get to Blue Bottle by 10:00 – sip coffee, do a bit of writing, let my wonderful waffle digest and still have plenty of time to meet up with my cousins for lunch. By the time we finally got on the freeway, it was 9:30. In my haste, I looked up the website on my phone just before pulling out of the driveway, thumbing through the site until I saw “Oakland” and then mapped the address – 300 Webster Street.

With traffic, we arrived at 11:00, my youngest just as ravenous for the place as I was after all the waffle talk. I was pumped about my coffee, but oh how thrilled was I to finally get a Blue Bottle Coffee waffle.

“Oh, we don’t serve waffles at this location. Those are at the WC Morse location.” Yes. I was at the wrong place. What I hadn’t noticed before was that there were TWO Oakland locations; so while I was correct about an Oakland site having waffles, when I’d looked up the address before leaving, I’d done so for the wrong Oakland restaurant.

But I’m Dianderthal – and when I’m hungry for something, you best believe I’m going to get it. I still ordered my drink at the Webster spot – likely the best latte I’ve ever had in my time here on the planet with its pure, rich flavor that needed no further enhancement in the form of a sweetener – but took it to go along with a Snickerdoodle for my youngest kid, who could only shake her head at my goof. It would be tight with a time for lunch already scheduled, but I HAD to get to this WC Morse location.

And get there I did – eventually, as I had to get from the 300^th to the 4200^th block in town. Once I made it, I was fortunate enough to find a parking spot, taking the short walk over by myself, the kids probably worried about how I might react should things go badly.

And this is when I found my potential second home – plenty of light and high ceilings and busy, bustling people, none of them perturbed by (or perhaps unaware of) my bulky camera, fixed on the space, the fixings and clicking away. I could go on about how fascinated I am by Blue Bottle, mentioning their training labs, free coffee tastings, the thought that goes into individualizing each of their locations to fit the neighborhoods in which they stand, the fact that they run a coffee machine repair shop – but you’ve likely stopped reading by now anyway (I do have a tendency to go on in these posts, don’t I?).

I’ve gone on long enough so I’ll just say here that the lengthy trip that brought me to my first Blue Bottle waffle (and my second Blue Bottle location) was very much worth it. Hand held, it was crisp and thick, the insides sugary and fluffy. Thank goodness the locations in Southern California are waffle negative or I might lose my home, lose my marriage due to my addiction.

I’d still like to sample some of the drip coffee the next time I’m in downtown LA. Maybe they’ll bring their waffles here soon – I’d be willing to sign a 2-year lease for a window seat near the waffle iron if they ever do.

Blue Bottle Coffee
Oakland’s “Waffle” location (with other breakfast items)
4270 Broadway
Oakland’s coffee and other treats (no waffles) location
300 Webster Street
and locations in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York

And lunch with the cousins was excellent – we spent time at Rolling Dunes on Oakland’s Lakeshore Avenue; a cozy “after church” kind of place with homey, succulent dishes – pastas, sandwiches, breakfast items. The kids and I enjoyed our delicious meals, and even more appreciated catching up with the cousins.

Rolling Dunes
3331 Lakeshore Avenue in Oakland

Tasty Places :: Willie Jane

Sometimes you don’t get to pick your restaurant; sometimes, it picks you.

I hadn’t intended on a Sunday supper in Venice, but late in the week I was happy to receive an invitation to a birthday dinner for one of my dearest friends. Wonderful as it was to have a bit of a getaway from the LBC to look forward to, the chance to try out a new restaurant was the real thrill. Right away, I googled the name, familiar to me for some reason – Willie Jane. Quickly I learned that it was another restaurant of Post & Beam‘s Govind Armstrong (I’m quite the fan), a freshly touted location serving what my birthday pal referred to as hipster soul food. Just before heading out that evening, I flipped through my restaurant notebook to add this spot when I noticed it was already in my book – starred!; and I couldn’t help but wonder how I could have forgotten about it. Perhaps Willie Jane knew I was coming. Maybe Willie Jane picked me.

If I didn’t think I’d maim some flip-flopped pedestrian as I drove, I would’ve spent more time taking in in the bustle that is Venice’s Abbot Kinney Blvd. It’s a happening piece of street busy with beach goers, boutique shoppers, pressed juice drinkers, and satiated diners. It has presence. When Willie Jane finds me again, I’ll arrive early to check out its neighbors and to people watch; to purchase a plant from the garden next door, a place that adds life and delight to WJ’s lovely patio. The entire area is primed for savoring.

Once there, I caught up with both old friends and new acquaintances, then settled in behind my plate, studying the menu in distress, stuck between a few choices. Thankfully, someone ordered a couple plates of sumptuous appetizers, including a crusty sourdough bread that I lathered with pimento cheese – why haven’t I been eating pimento cheese all my life? And it was here and then that I enjoyed likely the moistest, tastiest, most excellent cornbread ever whipped together. Really, it couldn’t help but be great with all the butter I painted on the first, then another slice. There would have been a third piece eaten but I was too slow. I might have cried about this but then the birthday girl arrived!

With the merriment of the night, I was a little off my game, not taking a quick pic of the drink menu so I don’t recall the name of the cocktail I ordered once, then ordered again after sucking down the first one so easily. But you could taste the freshness of it; its sweet and herby simplicity, which made sense with Willie Jane harvesting produce from its own garden, the scratch-made culture of the place evident with even a cocktail. You can imagine how psyched I was becoming about my dinner plate.

The catfish ended up being my choice, a popular one among the table. Same with the macaroni and cheese side, but how could I go to a “hipster soul” Govind Armstrong place and not get the mac & cheese? And so glad am I that I did – rich, gooey, and breadcrumb topped, just how I like it. After finishing mine, I had to stop myself from taking a spoon to the plate of a dinner mate who stopped short on her macaroni, saying she was full, had to save room for dessert. If I knew her a little better, I would’ve gone for it.

The fish was pretty amazing too – breaded and softly fried, the fish buttery and moist. I’m only 80% sure that what rested underneath the fish was a polenta, but 0% remained once I got through. Yes, this was a no doggy-bag required night.

The night ended sweetly with a few bites of a brownie sundae with caramel and peanut butter-filled chocolate balls, both elegant and decadent. Those at the table who’d gone with the prix fixe meal were lucky enough to be served WJ’s peach cobbler. I’m no cobbler girl, but I couldn’t help but sample someone’s crust, and just that made me want to get up a clap. So glad that everyone was in a sharing mood.

Birthdays come and go, and as long as we keep living, all of us get to spend one every so often. But how wonderful is it to celebrate those we care about, tell them we love them, remember good times, and laugh about the silly gifts we decide to give them. And even more wonderful, to break bread with them, especially when that (crusty sourdough) bread comes from one of Govind Armstrong’s kitchens.

Happy birthday, A!

Willie Jane
1031 Abbot Kinney Blvd. in Venice, CA