Latina power: Dominica Rice (left), Amelia Ceja (center, photo Amy Heiden), Maria Catalan (right, Bart Nagel)

In journalism the rule of threes rules. A story needs a beginning, middle, and end (or lede, nut graph, and walk-off, as they say in the biz.)

When an interview subject is illustrating a point it’s always good if they can give three examples, of, say, their favorite places to eat around town. One seems thin. Two is better. Three is best. More than that and you run the risk of overwhelming the reader.

And when you bump into a subject three times in a row on your beat, well you’ve got yourself the makings of a trend piece or a roundup article. That’s how my story in the San Francisco Chronicle today on Latina food entrepreneurs came about.

I’ve covered La Cocina, the non-profit incubator program that supports low-income edible enterprises, in earlier stories and these mostly Latina budding businesses were out in force, of course, at last August’s San Francisco Street Food Festival.

In October, I attended the Tedx Fruitvale Harvesting Change conference held in Oakland and hosted by the food service provider Bon Appetit Management Co., where the idea for this article was sparked as I listened to Amelia Ceja of Ceja Vineyards and organic farmer Maria Catalan tell their stories about working hard, doing well, and giving back.

The following month, in Oakland again, this time to attend the Community Food Security Coalition Conference, I checked out Cosecha, getting rave reviews from conference attendees, and witnessed chef Dominica Rice and her all-Latina crew in action.

(Heads up: Go eat lunch there. No need to just take my word for it.) I stopped by after the rush to talk with Rice about her cafe and her staffing decisions.

After that, I knew I had a story.

You can read the piece, “Latinas share the wealth,” in today’s paper, available online here.

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Self-described eco-chef Aaron French. Photo: Elizabeth Tichenor

Aaron French, a self-described eco-chef, has headed up the kitchen at The Sunny Side Café on Solano Avenue in Albany since it opened in 2004.

For the past two years he’s served up breakfast standards (think pancakes and eggs) and simple lunch fare (burgers, sandwiches, salads) at a satellite café of the same name in Berkeley.

French bounces between the two popular spots several times a day and jokes that the breakfast-brunch shift is the Rodney Dangerfield of cooking (it don’t get no respect).

Still, he’s proudest of his low carbon emissions menu options and his weekend food specials, a short, seasonal list that emphasizes local farms and calculates food miles.

French isn’t your typical chef. Before he cooked for a living he worked as a scientist. His interest in ecology led him to spend two years living among pygmies in Cameroon, where he studied seed dispersal by monkeys and birds.

An avid nature photographer, he’s also written about the relationship between ecology and food for the Bay Area News Group, where he penned the EcoChef column, as well as for Civil Eats and Fungi Magazine.

French, 40, is the author of The Bay Area Homegrown Cookbook, which reveals the partnerships between 29 local chefs and farmers, and features fellow Berkeley chefs Amy Murray of Venus and Revival, and Marsha McBride and Rick DeBeoard of Café Rouge, as well as local fungi foragers Mil Apostol and Lucy Collier of Gentle Giraffe Farm and Forage.

He is studying sustainability at the University of California’s Haas School of Business, lives locally, and is co-raising his preschool age daughter, who was adopted from Ethiopia.

Local mushroom foragers Mil Apostol and Lucy Collier. Photo: Aaron French

When did your interest in local food begin?

I spent part of my childhood on a small farm in Sacramento, where we grew all our own vegetables and fruit, and ate the eggs from the farm’s free-range chickens. Eating locally literally meant walking out the back door and harvesting dinner.

Where did the moniker eco-chef come from and what does it mean?

It was an insult by a co-worker at a hippie, student-run, super-crunchy, college collective called Che Café on the U.C. San Diego campus, where I worked when I got my undergraduate degree. One night, as we were cleaning up, I found myself separating the recycling from the trash. This was before recycling was routine. And my co-worker just wanted to get out of there and he said: “What are you, some kind of eco-chef?”

Years later, when I started cooking full-time, I decided to embrace the label as a positive thing. On the one hand, it means nothing really. But I’ve come to think of it as cooking in a way that supports local food systems and honors the people who raise our food sustainably and I incorporate those principals into everything I do, given the limitations I have.

I have to think about price point, so I don’t buy organic potatoes, for instance, I don’t pretend I do. I’m doing breakfast for about 10 to 12 bucks a plate per customer, so I have to work with that.

But Sunny Side was the first green-certified restaurant in Albany. We use quality local ingredients and humanely raised meats and eggs. My five-item food-miles menu, which makes up a third of our weekend business, calculates food miles, and is like my gateway drug to sustainability. I do as many things I can given what I have to work with.

Do you have culinary aspirations beyond being a breakfast chef?

The bar is pretty low for breakfast food so I actually find it’s really creative to work within the parameters of what you can do on a breakfast menu. I’m always looking for ways to increase the connections between ecology and food. That’s what keeps me going and inspires me. And the issues behind being “green” or “eco” or “sustainable” are all things I think about as I’m cooking on the line. I look forward to the day when none of us need to use these labels, which are buzzwords now, because they’re simply standard practice.

Aaron French and a panel of chefs and farmers featured in his book will discuss local, seasonal food at Berkeley’s Books Inc. tomorrow, Wednesday, January 25, at 7:00 p.m.

A version of this post originally appeared on Berkeleyside and was republished by Civil Eats.

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Cooking Breakfast at Bette’s Diner in Berkeley for 27 Years

Chef Darryl Kimble takes a break from behind the stoves to talk breakfast. Photo: Sarah Henry

In the restaurant business, chefs change jobs about as often as the lead in a Superbowl playoff. So to have stayed the course at one spot, worked your way up the ranks almost since the inception of a beloved eating institution, and still genuinely enjoy going to work every day, well, that’s worth noting.

Such is the case for Darryl Kimble, the manager at Bette’s Oceanview Diner on Fourth Street, which celebrates its 30th year in 2012. Kimble has been cooking there for 27 and a half years; he joined the kitchen crew at 19.

The perennially popular restaurant serves breakfast and lunch to an astounding 135,000 people a year, although it only sits about 50 inside.

The sign on Bette's counter says it all: the popular diner served 13% more customers in 2011 than in 2010

But diner regulars already know the place draws a crowd (just like they know there’s no ocean view). Wait times for a booth or table are a given, though counter seats turn over more quickly — early in the week anyway. Weekend waits can stretch beyond an hour.

Customers seem to take it in stride. Bette and Manfred Kroening own the diner, which has a ’50s feel by way of a ’30s Art Deco aesthetic. The menu features diner favorites: eggs any style, home fries, pancakes (including their signature soufflé pancakes), waffles, and sandwiches.

We’re not talking fancy-pants-artisanal cuisine, but familiar comfort food that transcends time and trends, though the Kroenings now grow much of the restaurant’s produce on their five-acre farm near Sebastapol. It’s there they harvest organic fruit, greens, and pumpkins for their popular pumpkin pancakes.

Kimble, 47, who lives in south-west Berkeley, usually works Thursday through Monday. We chatted at the diner on Tuesday (he was filling in for an employee), over a plate of spicy scramble and chai.

Can you walk us through your trajectory at Bette’s?

I started as a prep cook, did that for about five years, making soup, scones, and muffins. Then I moved to the back station — that’s where you make the sandwiches and salads — and then they moved me to the line on eggs. I used to work on the egg and bacon line at my previous job at the Shattuck Hotel, so I was comfortable with that. And then, reluctantly, I took over as a manager. I didn’t really want to, but Bette asked me, and so I said I would give it a try. That was about 12 years ago, maybe more.

A local landmark: Bette's Oceanview Diner in Berkeley

What do you like about working at Bette’s?

The people I work with are friendly and cheerful. I like working for Bette and Manfred. They’re the best bosses you could have. I have freedom, I can talk with them with ease, they understand if I have a problem, or, if I want to change something on the menu, they go with it.

Everyone I work with is like family to me. I love the atmosphere here; it’s a relaxing, stress-free, and comfortable place.  And the people-watching is good.

What do you like about your customers?

They’re friendly, as well. We have really loyal customers. Some have been with us since the place opened and come in every day. We know their orders by heart.

Are there any challenges working at the diner?

Coming up with new specials every day, seven days a week is a challenge. We want to make dishes that nobody else is doing. We don’t want to copy others. That’s an important distinction about the diner: we do our own thing.

How has the food changed in the past three decades?

The breakfast is pretty much the same as it was in the beginning. But we have more specials now — like fish tacos and meatloaf — than in the past. When I first started, the restaurant used to serve dinner, which we no longer do. Dinner service stopped in the late 1980s. We use more organic produce now. Bette brings it from her farm, about half of the produce we use comes from there.

Regulars flock to Bette's for comfort food like pancakes

How have the customers changed over the years?

They’re still the same, just older, of course. Some of our newer customers ask for certain things and we try to accommodate, we get the gluten-free, the vegetarians, and the vegans. We get customers now who just ask for egg whites, which we can do. But if someone asks for Egg Beaters [an egg substitute], we tell them: “No, we don’t do that.” All our eggs are good and fresh, we get them from Petaluma Farms.

How do you handle people waiting to eat?

We’re used to it. We get a rhythm going and we just don’t pay no attention to how long the wait is because we do really well for how small our kitchen is. Our record is 541 covers in a day on a weekend.

Do you dine out in Berkeley?

I don’t go out for breakfast (I’m not a big breakfast person) but I do go out for dinner quite a bit. I go to Café Rouge. I like their hamburgers and they have an open bar. I also like Kirala — they have really good sushi. And Rivoli is one of my favorite places. It serves really fresh food at good prices.

How long do you see yourself working at Bette’s?

I know I’m going to make it to 30 years working here. Just to do it. I’ll be 50 then.

What else would you like to do?

I wish I could open my own place. I’d run a soul food-barbecue joint in Hawaii. I’ve been to Waikiki and the food is pretty bad. I’ve looked at places. But I probably will still be here.

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside.

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I am Honoring: Served up at Cafe Gratitude, but not for long.

Update, 01.26.12: Café Gratitude co-owner Terces Engelhart announces that the Berkeley restaurant on Shattuck may not close after all. “Wanting to let you know that we are planning on being able to keep Berkeley Café Gratitude open!,” she writes in a January 24th email. Stay tuned.

Original story: Last week’s unexpected announcement that all eight Northern California Café Gratitude restaurants — including the one in Berkeley’s Gourmet Ghetto — will close because of former employee legal action prompted a range of responses from readers and eaters from “I am Sad” to “I am Amused” to “I am Indifferent.”

The raw-and-cooked organic, vegan food chain, where every item on the menu is an affirmation that begins “I am…” prompted one wag on Twitter to comment that the naming convention in itself was actionable.

Citing “aggressive lawsuits,” owners Matthew and Terces Engelhart revealed the pending shuttering on Facebook and, later, on their website, a few days after Thanksgiving. “Although we believe that we have done nothing wrong and our policies are completely legal, it will cost us too much money to defend them in court,” read the Facebook message. The margins in the food business are notoriously slim and, the couple maintain, they simply don’t have the finances to fight a protracted legal battle.

Café Gratitude on Shattuck in the Gourmet Ghetto. Its closure will leave a gap in the restaurant district.

Café Gratitude has always had its devotees and its detractors. Some embrace the cafes’ concept, which celebrates abundance, espouses so-called sacred commerce, and encourages personal transformation. “It’s a magical place where you’ll have a completely different dining experience. Everyone is positive and happy,” said Berkeley’s manager Alice Liu in a Berkeleyside profile last year. “There’s a good vibe here. We believe you can be in business and treat your employees in a kind and caring way.”

Not everyone has warm and fuzzy feelings for the joint — and not just because of its New Age speak and cult-like following. There are currently two legal challenges. One lawsuit takes Café Gratitude to task for its allegedly illegal tip pooling practices. A second suit, filed by a former bookkeeper, is a claim for disputed unpaid overtime wages. No workers from the Berkeley location, which employs around 25, have filed suit to date.

An attorney for the plaintiff in the unpaid overtime dispute isn’t buying the pleading poverty defense from the Engelharts. “These are not huge cases. There’s no reason, financially, for them to close eight locations,” said attorney Stephen Sommers, to Chronicle‘s Inside Scoop, adding that the suit is unlikely to cost more than $200,000. “They are not closing these restaurants because of these lawsuits. There’s something else.” The lawyer didn’t speculate what exactly, but in the social media swirl following the announcement some suggested that the restaurants’ founders may not want to be subjected to discovery, where one’s dirty laundry might be exposed.

Owners Terces and Matthew Engelhart on their Be Love Farm in Vacaville.

But Terces Engelhart maintains it’s all about the money and that the speculation otherwise is based on “the incorrect information that it would only take $200,000 to settle these cases,” she told Berkeleyside. “The plaintiffs have said the cases are worth over $600,000. Defense costs could be over $200,000. If we lose, we would also have to pay plaintiffs’ attorney fees, which could be $400,000. We simply do not have resources sufficient to stay in business given these potential costs.”

Café Gratitude is no stranger to controversy. Last year the East Bay Express reported that a café employee was fired from a San Francisco location, in part for refusing to attend Landmark Education.

Regardless of how people feel about Café Gratitude’s philosophy (expansive self empowerment, mind-control cult, or something in between) many people who have actually eaten there appreciate the food. ”I’ve enjoyed working with Café Gratitude as a stop on my Gourmet Ghetto culinary tour for the past three years,” said Lisa Rogovin, owner of Edible Excursions. “I’m not saying Café Gratitude is everyone’s cup of tea, but on the whole people like the experience. I’ll miss their smoothies and corn tortillas and masa for the tamales from their Vacaville farm.  I’m sure it’s going to be a bummer for people with dietary restrictions who found they could eat everything on their menu.”

The Engelharts opened their first Café Gratitude in San Francisco’s Mission District in 2004; the Berkeley store followed soon after. Only the Los Angeles restaurant — popular with the celebrity set — will remain open, because it is under a separate ownership structure. A planned outpost in Kansas City (yes, you read that right), will also proceed under separate ownership, said Englehart.

The end of Café Gratitude leaves a gaping hole in the Gourmet Ghetto. “The association is sad to see Café Gratitude go. They have been an active and generous member of our business community,” said Heather Hensley, executive director of the North Shattuck Association. “Café Gratitude was also a great complement to our culinary scene, offering a unique menu and perspective on food. We hope another restaurant will fill the space soon.”

The prime Gourmet Ghetto spot makes it an attractive piece of real estate for another edible enterprise. “The Berkeley café had an offer on it earlier this week, which was rejected by the landlord,” Englehart told Berkeleyside, indicating that new offers are under consideration. Stay tuned.

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside.

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Green food tours start at the source: Local farms. Photos: Courtesy of Bay Area Green Tours

Three years ago, Marissa LaMagna started Bay Area Green Tours, a nonprofit, shoestring operation now headquartered in the David Brower Center (and largely staffed by eager, eco-conscious, unpaid interns) because she wanted to showcase the best sustainable farms and food, buildings and businesses, energy practices and employment opportunities in Berkeley and beyond.

The green tour business with a biodiesel bus takes people from near and far to see for themselves and hear the stories behind successful sustainable enterprises in the area, whether its Gather restaurant in Berkeley, Knoll Farms in Brentwood, or Nicassio Valley Cheese Company ranch in Marin. In addition to public programs, the group has led private tours for Whole Foods, Kaiser Permanente and Berkeley High’s Green Academy.

Marissa LaMagna runs Bay Area Green Tours.

LaMagna, who owns a home close to downtown but lives in Oakland with her beau, brings years of experience as a community organizer to her latest business venture. (In previous lives she’s been a private natural foods chef, organic farmer, food coop organizer, school teacher, yoga instructor, film editor and sound producer.)

In 2004, she founded a green-certified wellness center, Studio Rasa, in downtown Berkeley, which closed when she lost her lease.  At 62 she’s a poster gal for what a green lifestyle — a whole foods diet, yoga practice, and a love of nature  — can do for a person’s vitality, health, and youthfulness.

LaMagna’s tour group has several upcoming events including a farm visit to Brentwood on October 8, and a walking tour of San Francisco’s green waterfront businesses and a moveable feast in Berkeley featuring sustainable restaurants Five, Gather, and Revival on October 11 to coincide with the Slow Money 3rd National Gathering.

Also on the agenda: An Organic Cheese Tour on October 12 in West Marin in collaboration with The Commonwealth Club, and a Berkeley Food Sovereignty tour (think food justice and access) on November 5 during the Community Food Security Coalition‘s annual conference, a national event held in Oakland this year.

Find tour details and ticket information (tours start at $65) on their site.

LaMagna talked food tours this Tuesday over a bowl of organic grapes at the Brower Center.

Restaurant chefs at Five, Gather, and Revival will talk slow money and sustainable food at an upcoming green tour.

Have you always been interested in food?

Yes, ever since I was a little girl growing up in New York City with a single mom, in a flat so small we shared a bed. We lived with my great-grandmother and grandparents too. Everybody worked and nobody could cook. Grandpa, who was German, made the meals and they were terrible: always stewed chicken or tongue, frozen vegetables, and old potatoes. But we sat down at the table for dinner every night, which is something that I still do. And when my mom started dating a man who liked good food, he’d take me down to Hell’s Kitchen to see all the food vendors’ stands. That was my first experience seeing and tasting real, live food. I’ve loved farmers’ markets ever since.

When did you learn to cook?

As a young adult I got a job at a pizza parlor in a small town in Vermont and there was nothing to do during the week. I was so naive, I didn’t realized that the place got crowded on the weekend because the owner came up from Massachusetts in his Rolls Royce to sell cocaine out the back. So I taught myself to bake from The Tassajara Bread Book and it sold really well. Then an alternative school asked me to cook there. I didn’t know anything about cooking really, I was a baker. They gave me The Joy of Cooking and I started making food for 50 people.

What are some of the challenges of running a green business in Berkeley?

People who live here take a lot of what we have for granted. I just came back from the midwest. In some ways it’s purer there: There’s one farmers’ market and so everyone goes then. It’s a big deal. Here it’s like if you miss one day there’s always another market in a day or two. We’ve gotten a bit jaded.

Sometimes I think people forget how much green businesses need support from the community — Amanda’s Restaurant closed and she was doing all the right things on the sustainability front.

It’s also a struggle to keep up with all the changes in the sustainability movement because there’s so much going on all the time and things are moving quickly.

What do you most enjoy about the green tours?

I like to connect people, I’ve always been a conduit for people, a matchmaker, and an advocate for building healthy communities. It’s the teacher in me. I get a lot of satisfaction when people learn in an experiential way.

We have students who go to an urban farm, touch the soil, and make the connection between healthy farms and good food. I’ve seen adolescents change their diets just by showing them an alternative way of eating, not telling them what they should and shouldn’t do, but by presenting a different model.

We have taken people on farm tours who have never stepped foot on a farm, including people who have lived in Marin all their lives. They just drive by and never think to stop. And they’re moved by the experience. At a recent cheese tour there was a dead cow on the property and the farmer didn’t even seem to notice but everyone else did. I asked him if he would address it and he explained, quite rightly, that the cow was at the end of her life, death is a part of farm life — of any life — but we often shield ourselves from such things. It wasn’t as pastoral as people might imagine but it was real.

Who are your favorite local food purveyors and what do you buy from them?

Acme cranberry walnut bread and Phoenix olive bread. The farmers’ market for Frog Hollow Farm peaches, Quetzal Farm peppers, and Red Hill Farms goat cheese. My boyfriend introduced me to Country Cheese, he’s shopped there for 40 years. I’m a fan of small stores.

When you eat out around town, where do you like to go and why?

I’m a downtown devotee, I lived here for 12 years. I like Cancun because it’s a sustainable business and they grow their own produce on their own farm. I order the same thing every time: Fish tacos with mango salsa.

Gather, for their vegan charcuterie and pizzas. I love how welcoming they are.

Venus for breakfast. I go with a friend and we split eggs — done any way — and lemon ricotta pancakes.

What’s next?

Securing sponsorships and partnerships to make this a sustainable business. I launched this right when the economy was tanking. It’s tough. But there’s so much around me that’s inspiring: great resources like UC, the Ecology Center, and people in this building, who are innovators who think outside the box.

I just got my first grant from Cal to show students where they can buy sustainably in their own backyard. I’m hopeful that as people get to know us more funding will come our way.

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside and was republished on Civil Eats.

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Chef Banks White turned down a chance to work at Chez Panisse. Photos: Christina Diaz

Banks White is the executive chef of Five, which calls itself a modern American bistro. Think comfort food with au courant accents: Macaroni and cheese made with orzo, wild mushrooms, tomato jam, and smoked gouda. Slow braised short rib pot roast with mascarpone polenta. Buttermilk biscuits with white cheddar pimento cheese.

The Berkeley restaurant (named for the five senses and its 5 o’clock happy hour) is housed in the historic, refurbished Hotel Shattuck Plaza, which looks like it’s been given the Dorothy Draper treatment. (This writer spent some time last fall at the interior designer’s signature space, The Greenbrier in West Virginia.) Swirling black-and-white wallpaper. Ornate red chandelier. Black-and-white marble floors and red wall sconces. Get the picture?

White hails from Texas, land of barbecue and Buds, but is trained in classic French culinary techniques. The 30-year-old has worked for several upscale boutique hotel restaurants including The Driskill in Austin and Auberge du Soleil in the Napa Valley.

Involved with Five since the planning stages, earlier this year White took over the reins at the restaurant from chef Scott Howard, who recently opened Brick & Bottle in Marin. In a nod to Banks’ hometown, this summer the restaurant is featuring a pre-fixe BBQ, Brews & Blues night every Thursday. Read a review of the restaurant by Bay Area food critic Michael Bauer.

White moved here three years ago and lives in West Berkeley. We spoke last Tuesday afternoon following First Lady Michelle Obama’s visit to The Claremont Hotel, where Alice Waters and other local chefs, including Josh Thomsen, Charlie Hallowell, and Samin Nosrat, cooked eggs and toast for 200 at a political fundraiser.

So, were you there this morning?

No, I wasn’t invited.

You were not invited to cook for this country’s African American First Lady?

That’s right. It was disappointing. I wanted to be there so bad.

Do you know the Chez Panisse crew?

I’ve staged there three times.

Would you please explain for readers what the French term stage means?

In most American restaurants a stage means trying out for a job in a kitchen. But in Europe it really means learning from a chef in the kitchen.

My first stage at Chez was a few years ago, not long after I moved out here, and I was trying out for a job. They offered me a line cook position in the cafe. But I didn’t take it. I didn’t realize there was a long line for jobs at Chez. I got the offer at Auberge and took that instead.

Why?

I’m really most comfortable in a hotel kitchen environment. I love the energy of it and the fact that you’re not just coming in at 11 to cook dinner that night. It’s three meals a day and events and banquets and catering and there’s just always something going on at a hotel.

Can you give us the flavor of those experiences at Chez?

Every chef should have the opportunity to stage at Chez Panisse. It’s a learning experience in a restaurant that you’re unlikely to find anywhere else, just getting the lay of the land there and taking in their approach to cooking food. I’m glad I had the chance to do that.

The first time I was there Alice Waters pulled up a chair and watched me prep. But you know she hasn’t really cooked in the kitchen for a long time. The two chefs are Jean-Pierre Moulle and David Tanis. Jean-Pierre took me downstairs and showed me how to break down a whole pig. The fact that an executive chef took the time to do that really stayed with me, they’re all about teaching and training others.

What’s good about cooking for a Berkeley crowd and what’s challenging about it?

Berkeley patrons are well-educated about food and they expect you to know your stuff. And they really want to know where their food is coming from. That’s all great. The flip side to that is sometimes I’d love to cook lobster or foie gras. But it doesn’t fit with our local, sustainable, farm-to-table sensibility. And, of course you have to be consistently good, because people have options downtown now like Gather and Revival, and we’re all vying for the same diners. I see that as a positive; it keeps us on our toes.

What do you like about the local food?

The incredible quality of produce, meat, and cheese. Cooking here is about choosing and pairing the right ingredients, not so much about trying to coax flavors out of them. You have to get out of the way and keep your ego out of it and just let the ingredients speak for themselves.

Do you like to eat out around town?

I don’t cook on my days off. I like the pizzas and salads at Paisan. I live right near the International Marketplace and I love the diversity of ethnic cuisines there. I can have an Afghani kebab one day and lamb karahi from Chaat and Curries the next. I liked the Jamaican soul food place, Flavah Island Cafe, before it closed down.

What’s missing here food wise?

A really good barbecue place. The ones I’ve tried just don’t smoke the meat long enough.

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside. Find more of Christina Diaz’s images here.

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Roscoe Skipper, Wendy Brucker, and Clive the dog, of Rivoli and Corso. Photo: Clay McLachlan

This is a story about a little neighborhood restaurant opened in 1994. A shared vision between two partners in work and life, who built an acclaimed destination dining space serving up fresh, homey food with complex flavors and nods to Italian, French, and Californian cuisine.

And it’s the story of how this culinary couple followed the success of their first eatery by opening an authentic Tuscan trattoria nearby three years ago. That place proved popular with critics and customers too.

This is also the story of the enduring power of friendship and love. Friendship, respect, trust, admiration, and love in the face of the demise of a long-term marriage, mind you, where two people who see the essential good in each other decide it’s a bad idea to stay together. And so they go their separate ways personally but manage, despite the initial challenges of seeing the ex every single day, to keep working together, as partners in a labor of love.

Six years post-separation and chef Wendy Brucker and general manager Roscoe Skipper, who run the restaurants Rivoli and Corso, are the proverbial poster pair for people whose commitment to each other remains solid in the face of the end of their marriage. Some regulars don’t even know the two aren’t a couple anymore; while it’s no secret, it’s not like the restauranteurs go out of their way to tell diners.

The couple met in the early days of their careers, when she was a line cook at Square One in San Francisco and he worked as a waiter. This year, both their restaurants made San Francisco Chronicle food critic Michael Bauer’s Top 100 list. (The third year in a row for Corso Trattoria, where chef Rodrigo da Silva runs the day-to-day operations. Rivoli’s been a regular on the list since 1996).

At a table overlooking the lush garden at Rivoli, Brucker, 52, who grew up in Berkeley and lives, with her boyfriend, in the home she and Skipper still own together near the restaurant, talked about working with the man she calls her best friend.

Not to be outdone, Skipper, 53, who lives  in Oakland, quoted poet Thomas Gunn to describe his feelings for Brucker.

How do you do it?

Skipper: We need each other. I couldn’t do what I do here without Wendy, she feels the same way, and we wouldn’t want to keep doing this without the other.

Brucker: He’s the biggest fan of what I do with food and he’s the best general manager I’ve ever worked with. I don’t want to work with anyone else. And I still laugh at his jokes.

How would you describe your restaurants?

Skipper: Rivoli is not a concept restaurant, it’s an expression of who we are. I think of it as Gary Danko on a budget. Anyone who has been to Italy knows there is no such thing as Italian food, it’s regional cuisine, and that’s what we’re doing with Corso, bringing a Florentine eating experience to Berkeley.

Brucker: Of course I want people to enjoy our food and service but I also want them leaving our restaurants feeling better than when they came in. The world out there is often hard, we strive to provide a soft shoulder.

Does the Chronicle‘s Top 100 List carry the same weight in the age of Yelp and citizen food reviews?

Skipper: It used to be you’d see an uptick in diners after the list came out, that doesn’t happen any more. But Michael Bauer’s opinion of what a quality restaurant is here still matters.

What have you learned from experience that might be instructive for a new generation of restauranteurs?

Brucker: There’s something to be said for just putting in the work. We did it the hard way: our own money, long hours, and a commitment to quality, integrity and just serving up really good food, which is why we’ve lasted as long as we have. I also worked for others and learned from others for about 15 years. That’s important. There’s a lot of technique that goes onto the plate at Rivoli and Corso, even stuff I learned at culinary school comes back to me sometimes.

What’s missing in the Berkeley dining scene?

Skipper: Anchor businesses like Pixar that can support high-end restaurants like ours. In San Francisco, people are spending other people’s money; when they go out for a meal they’re often on an expense account. In Berkeley, people are paying out of their own pocket.

Where do you like to eat out around town?

Brucker: I don’t eat out much. I do like the fried chicken and burgers at 900 Grayson. It’s simple food but it’s good quality and well done.

Skipper: I eat out a lot, mostly in San Francisco and Oakland. I like Great China in downtown Berkeley. The Peking duck is good, the Chinese banquet is something; there’s a reason there’s a line out the door.

What’s next?

Skipper: A French restaurant.

Brucker: A vacation in France.  You know what I’d love to do? I’d love to open a tiny place, maybe eight tables, I’d cook and Roscoe would work the floor and it would just be us, like it was 30 years ago, without all the frou-frou stuff. There aren’t many people our age still doing the work, like breaking down chickens and cleaning out the walk-in. But we are, and we’ll probably do this for 10-15 more years, if our bodies allow us. It’s what we do.

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside.

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Partners in work and life: Kyle Anderson, owner and executive chef, Rose Grabow, general manager, Slow restaurant in Berkeley./Photos: Sarah Henry

Kyle Anderson opened his first restaurant, Slow, nine months ago. The skinny slip of an eatery resides in a an emerging food corridor on University Avenue, home to Chocolatier Blue, eVe Restaurant, OctoberFeast Bakery and New Amsterdam Coffeeshop. (Anderson is an alum of acclaimed eatery Charlie Trotter in Chicago, as are the owners of eVe, and Christopher Blue, who owns the gourmet chocolate shop next door.)

While Anderson comes from a fine-dining culinary background, the food he serves up at Slow is simple, rustic comfort fare, albeit with high-quality, mostly organic, ingredients and thoughtful flavor pairings like free-range chicken salad with golden raisin, toasted almond, and sorrel, or potato salad with radish, apple, caraway seed and whole grain mustard vinaigrette. All made from scratch and  dished up fast at affordable prices.

He draws on culinary techniques from his high-end restaurant days. He’s not adverse to seasoning with salt. And he’s a slave to flavor: balancing acidity and sweetness in the kitchen, he says, is  key to good cooking. Slow has quickly developed a loyal lunch-time following (full disclosure: including this writer). Lines out the door are the norm and some local office workers come in every day for the same order. Dinner service is catching on too, albeit more, well, slowly.

The restaurant features an open kitchen but the face of the place is Anderson’s partner in work and life Rose Grabow, who hails from Omaha, as does the chef. The two live within a couple of blocks of Slow.  I caught up with Anderson, 28, earlier this week before the restaurant opened to see how his “baby” is doing.

How’s business?

We’ve been busy since we opened our doors. To date we’ve done the bulk of our business at lunch, we’re hoping that dinner picks up once our liquor license is approved and more people know about our patio out back, which is at its best when the weather is warm and the roses are in bloom.

The winter was slow, and went on longer than I expected — March was something — and things got a little tense then. As a new restaurant owner you get a bit on edge when the slow season lasts longer than expected. People here seem to hibernate during the rainy season. But now the weather has come good we’ve bounced back and are doing even better than we were before the weather was bad.

What do you like about living and working here?

The access to and affordability of excellent produce; we source most of our fruits and vegetables from Berkeley Bowl and Monterey Market. I like the climate [March excepted] and the outdoors, so when I get time off I enjoy going up to Tilden Park or out to the ocean.

Berkeley has a reputation as a food town. Given that, any surprises on that front?

A couple: Restaurants seem to be afraid to use salt; I notice a distinct lack of seasoning in some of the places we’ve eaten in. As for customers, we came here anticipating a certain level of sophistication around food, and people are certainly up to speed on the local, seasonal, organic end of things. But every day we’re asked to explain culinary terms, such as crudite or confit, which we’re willing to do, I just wasn’t expecting that.

Have you run into any cultural differences in California?

People here want to know your business, both at work and personally, we’re not used to that, since we’re from Nebraska. It can feel a bit aggressive. But we’ve gotten used to it and are finding it easier to open up. And customers certainly have opinions and aren’t afraid to express them. We have a diverse crowd walking through the door, which I like. We also see the unexpected on a regular basis: this week we had a table of six deaf people for dinner. It keeps things interesting.

Any challenges?

I’m realizing I can’t please everyone. I change up the menu every three months or so. If I change it more often, people complain that something they ate recently is no longer available. But some people would like to see us mix it up more. So it’s a question of striking a balance. I can’t take the Caprese off the menu, for instance, because it’s our most popular sandwich.

Where have you eaten around town that you’ve enjoyed?

Kirala; the sushi bar is so fresh and the atmosphere is great. Cafe Rouge for charcuterie; we’re big charcuterie fans. Sea Salt does a good Dungeness crab cake benedict and trout BLT.

What are you cooking up next?

We’re looking for a space where we could open up a dining room, and have a fully equipped kitchen where we prepped all the food for a few, smaller restaurants, like the one we have now. We’d like to have a franchise, and we’re interested in a location where we can attract college students. We think our price point is good for that crowd. I’d also like to try some different things at dinner: I’m thinking small plates, a pig roast, or a clam bake. I want to introduce a bit more science to the evening service without scaring anyone off.

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside.

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Top left: Chef Nigel Jones plates at the pop-up Kingston 11 (courtesy Guerilla Cafe), Top right: Finishing touches for main meals at dine@ at Local 123 (courtesy of dine@). Bottom left: Pop-up diners at Local 123 (courtesy dine@). Bottom right: Pop-up chef Suzanne Drexhage chats with a guest (courtesy: Skyla Olds).

Listen up locavores in search of the next edible experience: Berkeleysiders have no fewer than three pop up dining options, each with their own unique flavor, from which to pick from the first weekend in May.

Friday May 7, self-taught chef Nigel Jones offers his Jamaican cuisine with island classics like jerk chicken, plaintains with black bean sauce and sweet potato fries at his Kingston 11 Pop Up, (starters $7, mains $11-$14), which runs weekly, at The Guerilla Cafe in North Berkeley. (Kingston 11 is Jones’ postcode from home, Bob Marley’s, in case you’re curious, was Kingston 12.)

On the same night, longtime restaurant industry worker Suzanne Drexhage is hosting a seasonal spring supper ($50, sold out) at Local 123 in West Berkeley. On the menu: Backyard borage cocktail, nettle and sheep’s milk ricotta crostini, local lamb shoulder with artichoke and fava bean ragout.

Saturday marks the debut of culinary newcomers Faiza Farah and Tsedey Seifu, and their Ethiopian home cooking with a modern twist at the Selam pop up ($25-$35), also at Guerilla. Expect to see the spice burberry, the flat bread injera, and a mostly vegetarian/vegan dish list at this pop up, named for the Ethiopian word for peace, scheduled to run the first Saturday of the month.

Hungry yet? Secret super clubs have been around since the speakeasy but in recent years, movable feasts such as underground dinners have caught on in the culinary adventurous Bay Area.

These off the grid dining ventures, frequently held in spaces without commercial (or legal) kitchens have given way to a new food phenomenon around town known as pop-up restaurants, which are typically held in so-called bricks-and-mortar venues (cafes, clubs, restaurants) with certified (and hence legal) kitchens, though pop ups can also sprout in private homes and backyards (shh!).

The motivations for pop-ups are as diverse as the people putting on these edible experiments. For cooking newbies it’s a chance to practice culinary craft, for others a labor of love. For veteran chefs it can be a way to keep their hand in the kitchen without the grind of regular restaurant work. Most pop-up chefs appreciate the freedom to use unusual ingredients, try new recipes, and serve food in a convivial and community setting.

“I like the creative control of the one-off dining experience,” explained Leif Hedendal, a veteran of the underground/secret supper club scene who holds pop ups at Local 123, including on May 29. “I get to make what I want and source small quantities, say specialty salad greens from Little City Gardens, or wild foods like miner’s lettuce and chickweed, and evoke a season and sense of place.”

Faiza Farah (L) and Tsedey Seifu (R) of Afro Urbanites hold their first pop-up at Guerilla Cafe next week./Photo: Adenike Amin/Poster:Nick James

What’s in it for the customers? “When it works well it’s a unique, intimate, spontaneous experience without the impersonal nature or alienation that you can feel in a fine-dining establishment,” said Hedendal, who adds that diners feel they get value for money and appreciate the sense of community such events evoke; communal tables are conducive to conversing with strangers over shared food.

No one interviewed for this story claimed to make big bucks or have quit their day jobs as a result of hosting these temporary ventures, but seasoned “poppers” say they’re able to pay themselves, a small staff, and cover costs, with sometimes a little profit leftover too. The dinners, often a fixed-price menu, generally cost in the $35-$65 range and cash is often the only currency accepted. Some require advance registration, others take drop in diners. Most favor the food mantra du jour: local, seasonal, sustainable, organic grub.

Guerilla Cafe began hosting pop-up nights a few years ago; the cafe has featured Japanese, Moroccan, and Mexican cuisine and boasts Alice Waters and Jake Gyllenhaal as past guests.”The pop-up is a way to support our friends and community folk who are enterprising, aspiring chefs,” said Keba Konte, co-owner of Guerilla.  ”It is also a way to help incubate new food enterprises. Most of the “poppers” want to test out their skills and operations without taking on the investment of opening a restaurant.” That’s true for Jones, who hails from the fashion industry, who hopes to make a go of his Caribbean cooking on a more permanent basis.

Katy Wafle, co-founder of Local 123, attended a pop-up above the very cafe she owns six years ago. She sees the events as an opportunity to showcase local talent at nighttime, when many cafes typically go dark. In-house chef Rebecca Stevens runs The Local Table to stretch her savory culinary skills beyond the cafe menu. Fine dining Cal-Med chef David Elias held dine@ pop up events at Local 123 and Casa Vino last year; he’s exploring an eatery concept that is something between a roaming pop up and a bricks-and-mortar restaurant. he’s exploring an eatery concept that is something between a roaming pop-up and a bricks-and-mortar restaurant. “The pop-up is part of a progressive, emerging trend in the marketplace,” said Elias. “Diners are hungry for outside-the-box restaurant experiences.” What does it take to make an occasional pop-up into an ongoing edible venture? “Great food, tight operations and a hustling marketing team,” said Konte.

The current economy is one reason why pop-ups are increasingly popular, said Drexhage, who went the pop-up route after plans for her own cafe fell through during the recession. Drexhage recently returned to full-time work for Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant. She has worked with the reigning queen of pop-up food enterprises around the Bay Area, Samin Nosrat, who runs the Pop -Up General Store in Oakland and hosts a monthly pop-up feast at Tartine Bakery in San Francisco. “For me it’s an opportunity to show my culinary chops in an environment that doesn’t feel precious or rareified,” said Drexhage. “It’s about good food, prepared in a collaborative fashion and shared family style. And, of course, they’re a lot of fun.”

Details:

Local 123 Cafe: 2049 San Pablo Avenue (near University Avenue)

Facebook page for Local 123 (Check events for pop-up listings.)

Guerilla Cafe: 1620 Shattuck Avenue (near Cedar Street)

Kingston 11, Fridays 6-11, email for reservations

Selam, first Saturday of the month, 6-10, email for reservations

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside.

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In the kitchen with Claremont Hotel chef Josh Thomsen/Photo: Courtesy Starchefs.com

Josh Thomsen knew from a young age that he wanted to be a chef and credits his late father, Jerry, for sparking his culinary interest. His dad would put in a long day as a stockbroker, come home, go to the market, and then cook up a storm — making a mess, using every pot in the house, and turning out a delicious dinner.

The Culinary Institute of America grad has done his dad proud. Thomsen’s resumé includes stints at the French Laundry in Yountville, Hotel Bel Air in Los Angeles, and The Lodge at Pebble Beach. He’s also worked in kitchens in big-buck Las Vegas venues like Tao Restaurant at the Venetian Resort, the Mansion at the MGM Grand Hotel, and the Michael Mina-owned Nobhill Tavern.

These days Thomsen, 40, is the executive chef at a local landmark in Berkeley The Claremont Hotel, Club, and Spa, known for its regal white facade and killer views. Until recently, though, the hotel wasn’t exactly known as a destination dining experience.

Thomsen is trying to change that. In December 2009 the hotel unveiled his take on contemporary California cuisine (think seasonal farm-to-table fare, complete with wine pairings, the cuisine du jour) in the Meritage restaurant (formerly Jordan’s). Thomsen also overseas the hotel’s hipster hang-out Paragon Bar & Café, its poolside Spa Café, banquet and room service — and manages a staff of 72. In 2010 he was named a rising star by online magazine StarChefs.com for dishes like Braised Beef Short Ribs With Seasonal Vegetables and Sonoma Goat Cheese-Potato Terrine with Baby Beets and Aged Balsamic Syrup.

Last year he also founded the Berkeley Wine Festival, an annual event which opens tonight at the hotel. The festival features the Meritage chef’s cooking paired with wines from California, Oregon, Italy, and France. This year Thomsen shares the stage with other local chefs such as Sean Baker from Gather, Amy Murray from Revival Bar & Kitchen and Venus,  Rick Debeaord from Café Rouge, Paul Arenstam of Summer Kitchen, and Maximillian DiMare from Wood Tavern and the new Southie. The two-month long event includes receptions, dinners, and seminars hosted by winemakers and proprietors.

I talked shop with Thomsen, who lives near The Claremont on the Berkeley-Oakland border, in his office, which overseas the hotel’s kitchen.

Thomsen's Seared Scallop with Cauliflower, Caper, Raisin Relish./Photo: John Benson.

How is it working in a small-town hotel restaurant after working in big-name places?

I’m fine with small town; I grew up in a suburb of New Jersey, we used to go into New York City to eat. Yountville is hardly a big city, neither is Boulder, where I worked at the restaurant in the Little Nell Hotel. I’m comfortable in small-town settings and I have plenty of experience in hotel restaurants too. So these are familiar environments to me. I actually like being near a city but retreating in my off hours to somewhere quiet.

What are you most pleased about since taking over as executive chef?

Updating the menu and working with the same staff, who are all union, and getting their buy-in for what I want to do. I’m proud that I haven’t lost a single employee. I started with improving the cafeteria food — I eat there too — I wanted to make it a place where the staff wanted to eat.

Are there challenges running a hotel restaurant here?

Well, we remodeled and revamped the menu in a horrible economy. Michael Bauer [the San Francisco Chronicle restaurant critic] won’t review hotel food. And people from San Francisco don’t seem to want to cross the bridge. What is that about?

Some challenges — making the front gate and entrance more accessible and welcoming, updating the marquis — are structural things we’re working on.

Mostly, we’re just trying to get the word out that people can have a meal here for a reasonable price, similar to other comparable restaurants in town. There’s no need to think of us as just a special occasion place. I tell people: we may be high on the hill but we’re not high on your pocket book.

How has the hotel’s recent bankruptcy filing affected how you do your job?

Not a bit. It’s a debt restructuring and the owners seem committed for the long haul and prepared to put some money into improvements. I gave out raises last week. I’ve fielded a lot of inquiries from vendors and employees but it’s business as usual in the kitchen.

Why a Berkeley Wine Festival?

There’s so much talent in the local restaurant scene, we’re so close to the Napa Valley, and we have the money and the venue to hold this event. I’m not trying to be the Aspen Food and Wine Classic, where people fly in to attend, but why not come together to celebrate some of the best food in Berkeley?

How did you choose the chefs in the festival mix?

I chose chefs who run restaurants I like to eat at myself. These are all people who share the same work ethic, sensibility and approach to food as I do. The food starts with the best ingredients and it’s not played with too much.

I went to Gather three times this past month. I can learn something about cooking with vegetables from Sean Baker. Matt Di Mare at Wood Tavern is a friend; I like the bolognese pappardelle there. For some reason that sounds good to me at 10 at night. I also like the pork sandwich he serves at his new place next door, Southie.

Amy’s food at Venus and Revival is true to the season, changes often, and is fresh and clean. I ate a great salad at Revival recently. Café Rouge is my meat and charcuterie go-to place. I like their pork chops; they don’t waste one bit of the animal. And the atmosphere is friendly — on my day off I might go sit at the bar for lunch.

Sometimes I’ll call Paul [Arenstam] at Summer Kitchen and tell him not to close down the pizza oven and I’ll swing by to eat and kibbitz while he cleans up.

Where else do you like to eat in Berkeley?

House of Curries [formerly Naan 'n' Curry] on College Avenue. They do a great Rogan Josh, though they don’t call it that. It’s a rich lamb stew. I call it in and pick it up on my way home. I would have included them in the festival if they could have found a way to make it work.

This post originally appeared on Berkeleyside.

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