wtfdto returns

Hellooooooooo my friends! It has been a while and I sincerely apologize. It's been a rocky spring and summer and, frankly, the psychic debris field of my heart and brain could not deal with posting anything. So, here we are, the summer is nearly over and I am back for just a minute before I go on tour with my band, Enablers, for 2 months. YIKES!!!! 40 shows!!! What are we thinking?!?

As a way of dipping my toes back into wtfdto I present you with a video, made last spring, before the permacloud started following me around. My friend, Claire Brown, wrote the pretty words and melody to the tune. We are sort of a band. I hope everybody's summer has been full of love, laughter and swimming holes....or lots of whatever it may be that makes you all tingly and feel-good.

enjoy!!!!

wtfdto is still a persistent production made by Kevin Thomson

Subway shop at Carles Apartments takes out classic storefront

Carles apartments in 1958.  (courtesy Oakland history room)

I so wanted to go into this with both barrels blazing, but I can’t.  The whole thing started when I saw a sign in a window that said, “Coming soon! Subway!”  Okay, so what, another subway, big deal. They make sandwiches and fill the air with a weird, burning plastic smell from their “freshly baked bread”. The only time I ever ate a Subway sandwich was on the way to a funeral, about a hundred miles east of Denver. The best thing about it was that it was open, and it gave part time employment to the few teens in the area.

Front entryway.

It is too easy for me to dislike Subway; they are everywhere and they smell bad. I think there are six of them in DTO alone, and now a seventh will open. Wow. Great. The thing that got me is that this seventh one is on the corner of 10th and Jefferson, right in the corner storefront of the old Carles Apartments. The Carles is a classic apartment block circa 1910, three stories of brick and bay windows. The front entrance is decorated with terra cota motifs of cherubs and a beautiful stained glass window depicting a sailboat setting out to sea. The ground floor is all commercial; there is a hot tub place with a suggestive mural on the side of the building, a frame shop, a pet salon and now Subway.

The corner entrance, under construction for the past 3 months at least.

Sadly, I don’t think this particular Subway location will fly. The foot traffic is fairly low here, and the office workers generally stick to Clay St. and Franklin St., or to City Center Plaza. It’s a shame because the entryway, with its old tile work, is being altered as per ADA regulations for restaurants––never mind the corporate blah that the interior is suffering. It is too bad that nobody could make a go here with a different idea. I hate to think that in times of economic downturn, only a corporate tenant can make a landlord feel secure.

Corporatization of the old storefront. Sigh, more demo for the next person....

The other day I was walking up on the formerly beautiful storefront, silently cursing, when I saw two men standing outside. I suspected that I might be about to meet Mr. Carles himself so I introduced myself and was pleased to learn that indeed it was Emil Carles; raised in the building he now owns. I asked him about the Subway, kind of bemoaning the choice of business, and he answered, “what? It’s going to be real nice.”  And it hit me, we were coming from two very different places––Mr. Carles saw an empty storefront finally being rented and I saw an unneeded eyesore.

Ugh. What my neighbors and I have to look forward to in terms of "graphic art."

We wound up talking for the better part of 45 minutes about the building, the neighborhood, his former tenant Mignone (an “antiquing" shop with a penchant for painting things with a “weathered look”), and the economy. He described several business proposals for the space, none of which he thought were promising enough to pay the rent with regularity, or to stay out of trouble. It dawned on me that here was a man doing what he thought was best for his building and the neighborhood. While I might not agree, I understood and respected his position. I walked away gaining a new point of view and a new acquaintance who is kind and generous––he even invited me to go sailing with him.

Carles apartments, 2011.

For sure, one day the Subway will close and another business will try and make its way at 10th and Jefferson. Who knows what it will be? Perhaps an urban agriculture supply shop, gluten free bakery, wine shop, cupcake stop, hydrogen jet pack warranty repair center, chip implant service, pet robot repair? I hope I will be around to see it. Even more, I hope the Carles Apartments will be around long after I am gone.

Purple basement skylights, and entry tile work, likely to be a thing of the past.


wtfdto is a persistent production, a division of the toodleton enterprise network
all photos k. thomson unless noted

Love is back!!!

Hello and happy spring to all of you! I know it is on for real now. I’ve put away the heavy blankets and thrown open the windows. Now I can hear everything going on within a two-block radius and those weird flies that kind of just hang out are back to test my mid-air snatching skills.  All the sparrows and swallows that live in the bricks of my apartment building are extra busy, chirping away on my kitchen windowsill every morning just after sunrise. I love it all, from the fragrant flowers to the flagrant vagrants.

The farmer’s almanac has all manner of information regarding the springtime but it falls short when searching for the season under urban conditions. There are many signs of springtime to look for here in the city, such as; apron topped hippy girls, shirtless packs of roaming gutter punks, the alabaster/salamander look of white people exposed anew to the sun, louder music, better parties, more contact with strangers, drunken baseball fans, urban farmers with dirty boots and shorts on, a general tossing off of clothing layers, park bbq’s, you can lay off your meds, there is more money, the Maui onions are back and so is asparagus.

The one sure sign that trumps all is when somebody has the heart to write, in giant magenta letters, on the biggest, cleanest and whitest walls in Oakland, “Share the love! Love is back!” Amen. The bare white, boring, walls of the 601 city center barricades have never looked better or more cheerful.

Bless this soul and the crew that helped. The loving words went up Friday night––I think––and made it all the way through Mother’s day, only to succumb to the giant fuzzy roller of white paint on Monday morning. What is wrong with “love is back”? I saw a car full of total mom’s, on mother’s day, pull up to the traffic light at MLK and 11th, and every one of them was smiling and pointing at the message. Now it is back to blank. I don’t get it. They could have at least let it go a few more days… when the wall said, “fuck you, Alyssa”,  it was up for almost a week.

It might be gone but I am not going to forget it, and don’t you all either, LOVE IS BACK!!!!

See you later this week! Salut!

wtfdto is a persistent production, a division of the toodleton enterprise network

all photos, k. thomson

Lafayette Square? Not just for old men anymore.

The entire story of Lafayette Square goes back to the original city plan for Oakland. It is one of the six squares set aside as public parks, but it is the contemporary history of the square that interests me the most. The reality of present day Lafayette Square is the story of a definitive change in attitude towards what a park is, whom it is for, and how it should be used.

Bounded by 10^th and 11^th streets and Martin Luther King jr. Way and Jefferson, the park is a short walk to City Hall and the city center. For many years, it was the “front yard” of Oakland High School and for years after that, it became a meeting ground for older adults living on the edge of downtown in what is sometimes called the Gateway neighborhood. Its popularity with the over 50 set gave it the common name of Old Man’s Park.

By the late 1950’s, the square had become rundown, despite, or because, of its popularity. In 1958 the park was renovated with help from the Oakland Women’s Club and new seating, a shelter, and a “hammock tree”–– a central pole from which hammocks could be strung––was set up. Because of its popularity with men, the ladies set aside a special area for women only––“the weaker sex” according to the Tribune. This renovation lasted up until the 70’s, when most American cities were close to broke.

"The women weren't overlooked..." No, they insisted on this corral of sorts.

courtesy of oakland history room

The park fell into disrepair and by the 80’s, it was by and large a center for Oakland’s cast aside homeless population. (It is worth noting, that during this period, the Federal housing budget was slashed from 33 billion dollars to 8 billion.) In 1989, the East Bay Express reported on a city study that declared, “It would be in the city’s best interests to devise a strategy to displace the users of Lafayette Square”. The city, in its grand style, took the advice to heart and sent in the cops. During the infamous Police raids of June 6, 1989, officers descended on both Lafayette and Jefferson Square, carting away nine truckloads of possessions in the process.

This brought on a storm of protest from neighborhood groups like the Center for Urban Family Life and the Oakland Union of the Homeless. Calling attention to the plight of those being displaced made them people, not numbers or mere nuisances.  One of the key figures in this struggle was “Mother” Mary Ann Wright, Oakland’s own "Mother Teresa". Mother Mary heard the call in 1980 and decided to help those in need. Mary heroically fed upwards of 200 or more people every Saturday in Lafayette Square throughout the 1980’s, while tending to her own family of 12. By all accounts, Mary was an incredible woman of uncompromising grit. Her compassion and respect for those less fortunate helped pave the way for a change in thought.

Possibly the oldest live oak in oakland. Confirmation, anyone?

By the early 1990’s, it was agreed that the park needed help. It was in disrepair, the neighborhood was changing, and there was money to implement the will to change. Walter Hood’s design firm, Hood Design, won the contract. The design the team came up with is notable not just because it is pretty, functional, or fun, but for its core philosophy. Instead of simply kicking people out, burying the old and plastering it with something new and exciting, Hood decided to pay homage to the entire human history of the Square.

The observatory donated by Anthony Chabot

courtesy of oakland history room

Open on all sides, the Square is totally inviting, verdant even. The mound on the northeastern side pays homage to the observatory Anthony Chabot installed there in 1883, there are checkerboard game tables for chess or checkers, the restrooms are OPEN, the water fountain works, the barbecue pits are functional, the small hillocks on the western side are great for Frisbee, the play structure is clean––the entire park is clean and that is in many ways a reflection of hard work by the Parks Department but also the vigilance and efforts by the citizen volunteers of the 10,000 steps project.

Succulents at the end of the horseshoe pit.

I love this little square. Warm nights for a spot of wine by the old oak tree, rolling around freestyle, watching a game of horse shoes, or the tai chi crew; its free entertainment of the sort I love best…. people watching. As a person living alone in a small studio, the square is a perfect safety valve for when the “hello wall” conversation gets a bit too wooden.

 wtfdto is a persistent production, a division of the toodleton enterprise network

all photos k.thomson

Henry J. Kaiser's green dream.

Plan for garden with semi out of date plant key.

It took nearly two years to notice this garden. The only sign is a ring of foliage on the top of the Kaiser Center parking garage. I passed it by regularly without a second thought until it hit me; what are all those trees doing up there? When I finally decided that I had to know, I walked up the parking garage stairs until I hit the roof. The set of stairs I had chosen opened up into a thicket of green and birdsong. Close the door, and the echoing, gray, exhaust-laden air of the garage is forgotten.

The story told by the display in the lobby of the Kaiser Center is that Henry J. himself demanded the garden. In his typical fashion, he bucked his entire upper management staff, telling them he that did not intend to look down from his office onto the roof of a parking garage. This is noteworthy for Mr. Kaiser’s forward thinking. Nobody from the building’s design firm of Welton Becket and Associates suggested the idea. No city council members or neighborhood associations were demanding that corporate titans include green, public access space into their headquarters. Instead, thanks to Henry J. Kaiser’s own unique vision, there is this little oasis, three floors up, on top of what is usually a total eyesore. San Francisco landscape architecture firm, Osmudson & Staley won the contract to design the garden.

 I love this fountain, too bad it is turned off.

On any given day, before or after lunch hour, the garden is empty. The flowery and treeful peace of the garden is dominated by the gigantic sail of glass and aluminum that is the Kaiser Center. The more I scrolled from greenery to glass, the more I began to appreciate this incredible building. The Ordway building next door suddenly became heroic from my new vantage point as well. No matter which of the many benches around the garden you choose, there is a good view of Oakland’s skyline. I began taking tons of pictures; crouching behind bushes, walking around and around the garden. It was only a matter of time before suspicion was aroused, and sure enough, I was scared out of my shirt by a security guard who had snuck up behind me. He was a young guy who called into his boss to ask what to do with me. He held up the radio to my face so I could hear the response, “make him stop.”

The view to the north.

Well, that did it. I wasn’t going to just stop. There is not one single sign that forbids photography. I asked to meet the bossman and the guard led me downstairs to the main lobby. In the lobby, I was struck by the cleanliness of the design, the bank of Westinghouse elevator indicators behind the desk and the waterfall sculpture that makes a mundane escalator an object of curiosity.

The newer, and very ugly Kaiser building rising from some nice foliage. (I need plant help!) 

I started shooting again and that’s when the boss caught up with me. I asked him why, in a public access space, I was being stopped from taking photos. He gave me the terrorist thing and then asked me, “If someone was taking pictures of your house, wouldn’t you want to know why?” I was ready to tear into this one but I bit my tongue… what is the use of debating personal single family dwelling versus 28-story office tower? (Even if Henry J. had once maintained one of his residences there.) I switched gears into a, “how can I get permissible access and who’s in charge?”, and before I knew it I was in the Swig Management Company offices setting up my next visit for an in depth look at this fantastic piece of mid-century modernism…. for next time.

The Ordway building behind lavender.

The rooftop garden is located above the Club One fitness center, next door to the Kaiser Center, on Webster Street, between 20th and 21st streets. Hours are 8am to 5pm. Go in the small door on Webster and find the escalators, go to the top and you are there. Check out the cool, black and white blow-ups of the building and the surrounding neighborhood, before and after construction, up to the present day. Don’t forget to bring a camera.

Kaiser Center rooftop garden under construction. Gothy building lower right is gone now.

wtfdto is a persistent production, a division of the toodleton enterprise network

all photos by k. thomson

Autobahn Cafe

This is adult pleasure, courtesy of Autobahn Cafe.

A rock and a hard place exists all over every city U.S.A. and Oakland is no exception. No stranger to the hardest knocks, Oakland’s rocks and places can go head to head with the toughest from coast to coast and that is no idle boast, and sorry for rhyming right out of the gate….must be the goat cheese. Seriously. Let’s go to make-believe land together for a second, and leave King Friday and Lady Elaine behind. We’ll take a walk down under a majestic freeway that soars above the street with all the grace concrete and darkness can muster. Behold the incredible northbound curve onto 980 from 880 where every hoopdi and donk can see how capable the combination of tall wheels, worn out shocks, and killer green can be at 80mph. This is the very same spot that so-called anarchists decided to shut down an afternoon commute in the name of teacher pay and better schools. Wha-what?

Them's anarchists, the ones sitting that is.

What the “F” am I talking about? I’m talking about 571 Fifth street, the freakin’ BRET HARTE BOARDWALK. Damn, talk about being kicked to the curb; poor Bret…pretty much on lockdown between the jail and the BART tracks while Jack London gets the whole waterfront. Hold the quill!––that’s a subject for another post. Right now, on the olde BHB is a lone wolf of the best sort, that both Bret and Jack would fully appreciate. Wally Charles is a lady on a mission to bring you lunch for under 10 bucks and her place is called  Autobahn Café––aptly named, even if the speed limit is a lame 55mph.

Autobahn Café is situated in one of the three, ostensibly empty, Victorians on the fabled boardwalk. Clamber up on the old planks, walk through the door, order up, and then take a seat out back in the sun. Yes! A totally meditative deck awaits you on the backside. Under a beautifully split trunk old tree, perfect for sitting and shading, is a spot you can have virtually to yourself. Sure, there is no Golden Gate view through the bamboo curtain and that is somehow the point. I like the sound of knives being sharpened that the BART train makes as it descends to its subterranean tunnel curves. I even like the sound of traffic and the occasional wide-open Harley on the 880. If I wanted Tiburon, I would have gotten my MD and become a plastic surgeon. Autobahn Café speaks to me, and its location makes me feel lucky to live where I do.

Looking up.

You can have a delicious cappuccino made from locally roasted beans with a lively and well-made froth on top that is neither wimpy nor dominating. The beans come from Mr. Espresso on Third Street, right here in Oakland, and the flavor is bold. Oak wood roasting is their specialty and before I even read the sign, I could taste the embers. No light in the ass, barely roasted espresso––so in fashion at SF style coffemahals––that can take 20 minutes to receive at this place. This is real and pretension free.

The menu is basic, and everything is good. Some is organic, some is local, and everything is purchased nearby. The lady cares. Snacks Daily and Feasts Nightly ordered up some lunch and proceeded to love. Snacks got an awesome salad with shaved Parmesan over greens, with a boiled egg for FIVE BUCKS! She also went out on a limb and bought a Molinari (local!) pepperoni to spice it up with. Feasts Nightly went with a small Portobello sandy and salad for seven bucks. Super satisfaction.

A slice of heaven and solitude in a very unlikely place… and isn’t that what makes this city great? Oakland has opportunities for people with good ideas and wallets that can’t handle SF with its Monte Carlo sailboat dreams and rents. Wally ran a café for five years in San Francisco’s financial district, got run out by a condo conversion, went real estate for a bit and then followed her heart. Thank her for doing so by visiting Autobahn Café. Easy to miss and great to find, Autobahn Café serves up an under ten buck lunch and breakfast from 6:30am to 3:00pm every weekday. Keep a sharp eye; Bret Harte just might wave to you from an inbound BART train.

Truly.

wtfdto is a persistent production, a division of the toodleton enterprise network

all photos, k. thomson 


In light of the currently passed federal budget, I ask everyone to join the 30,000+ Americans fasting as a protest. I will do my day on Friday. Care to join me?

It's a hole!!!

The entire square block bounded by Jefferson and Martin Luther King, between 11th and 12th streets is a massive hole in the ground. Last year, a van was involved in one of the many traffic accidents at 12th and MLK, and wound up in the hole, so the city insisted on some strategic barricades… they are very pretty. The hole is surrounded by pristine white plywood walls, a veritable art gallery ready to go on the edge of downtown. I’ve only ever seen it tagged once or twice and the tagging never lasts more than two to three days. Evidently, the property management firm in charge of the hole is very proud of it and wants to maintain a clean image.

The signs on opposite corners proclaim “a bold new addition to city center, 23 stories of class-A office space”. Wow. So bold, another glass box, to be filled with… ummmmm, tech industry professional consulting re-investment security trading shadow ip biobending grievance filing trusts? Looks like the money ran out, or the drive, or both. When I moved to the neighborhood in 2008, workers were hard at work readying the hole and then the work stopped and the plywood went up. Every winter the hole fills with a broad and shallow lake. This winter a mating pair of mallards have taken up residence on the lake and love it so much, they have yet to move an inch.

So cute!

I am intrigued by the hole. I love its glaring failure of capital. Even more, I wanted to know what was there before the hole. I went down to the Oakland history room at the library, started thumbing the Dewey system and I began to learn some more about Oakland, re-development, prostitution, syphilis, high school, and a city’s often misguided search for an identity… and a rescue, from its blighted image.

Back around 1895, Oakland had a high school problem; it’s little school at 12th and Market had caught fire twice and the student population was growing quickly. Under the direction of Principal Mc Chesney, a new school was built on the square plot of land now occupied by the hole.

Old Oakland High School (courtesy Oakland Public Library history room)

Unfortunately, the school was built right next to the city’s red light, or “segregated district”. This area supposedly ended at 7th and Washington streets, but there is no doubt that it spilled over into the surrounding neighborhood. Seeing as the school was built before anybody thought about recreational areas for the students, the kids found their way from their de facto yard of Chabot Park (Lafayette Square, or Old Man’s Park… future post!) into the “cafes” and pool halls of the district. This was cause for concern regarding the “moral stamina” of the students and I am sure there were worries about “The Red Plague”, venereal disease, infecting the randier members of the student body.

Oakland Enquirer, 1913. (Oakland history room)

By 1913, the problem had gotten serious enough to merit attention from the newspapers. The Oakland Enquirer ran a headline, “Removal of School Urged”. The story went on to tell of “Evil Surroundings” and “Startling Conditions” reported by the Public Welfare Commission. Their report tells of a “careful investigation of 143 lodging houses and hotels resulting in the securing of the following facts:

“Moral places, seven; doubtful places, eight; places where immorality is countenanced and no questions asked, 110; places where immoral tenants are preferred, 17; places given up wholly to immorality, one.”

There is no doubt that Oakland’s rep as a rough place was established by 1913. By 1928, the old school was replaced by the “The Pink Palace” or better yet, “The Pink Prison”. The old school building remained in use as a technical school until its demise in 1940, whereupon it was razed and a parking lot put in. The parking lot remained as other buildings in the area sank into disrepair, were razed and more parking lots went in. Check out some photos from the late 1940’s and 50’s and you can see that the neighborhood was always a bit rough and searching for itself.

North side of 12th street showing empty storefronts, circa 1948. (Oakland history room)

By the middle 2000’s, after decades of neglect, things changed for city center and DTO. The Federal buildings went up, 555 City Center went up, and in 2007, the planning commission voted unanimously to go forward with 601 City Center. Work began in spring of 2008 and then the bottom fell out of all that phony money blowing around our country. Now, we have a really nice hole and a city still divided over its own identity, and divided over how to grow and prosper. I came across some pro-development blogs that love the idea of tall glass office boxes saving the city. One in particular––and a fine blog, I might add––“A Better Oakland.com” advocates for taller buildings more than once and even wishes that 601 city center be bigger. I am not so sure I agree. Then again, I am a babe in the woods here and still learning about the city I now call home.

Western DTO overview, mid 1960's. Hole is parking lot, middle left. (Oakland history room)

There is one thing I am not sold on: exactly how is more office space going to improve Oakland? What sots of companies are going to fill these offices? Is there a line of entrepreneurs with wads of venture capital knocking on the doors of city hall screaming for office space? Does Oakland really want to position itself as a hub of big business on the west coast? For the real estate developers the answer is yes, even if the line of entrepreneurs is a phantom one at the moment.

What I do see in this town is a lot of smaller entrepreneurial enterprises; I see struggling artists, I see recent immigrants trying their hand at small business, I see resourceful young people farming our vacant lots (and some receiving punishment from the city for doing so), I see families finding a relatively affordable place to live near the hub of business across the bay where many of us work… both blue and white collar. I see opportunity; I just happen to see it on a smaller economic scale. I also see a great place to live in a racially and economically diverse small city. What I don’t see is a need for another 23-story shadowcaster.

The dream, but not mine.

I thank the librarians of the Oakland history room; Dorothy Lazard, Gene Langmuir, and Martha Bergmann for their enthusiastic help.

I also want to thank the thousands of people across the country, who stood today in solidarity against the corporate greed machine and to honor the life of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on the anniversary of his assassination. Bravo to our longshoremen and women who shut down the port today! Viva bravery! Viva ILWU 6!

wtfdto is a persistent production,  a division of the toodleton enterprise network

all photos k. thomson unless otherwise noted

mighty mini-mall!

Wow! First sunrise without cloud cover in days! These past few weeks have been trying ones on the old psyche, but fortunately, I live in what several of my friends call “God’s Country”. It might seem strange to those of you not here, to think of Oakland as “God’s Country”. San Franciscans are almost sure to sneer at such a notion. You may think and do as you wish, but there is no denying that this small city can be a charmer. During those rainy days it was DTO, and Chinatown in particular, that lifted my spirits and kept seasonal depression disorder at bay. With my umbrella and camera, I’d take long walks and stop for noodles, tea, 99 cent stores, variety shops, herbalists, 35 cent macaroons––good ones, weird signage, old lady fashion plates, and killer deals on fruits and veggies.

Just some of my favorite gals with fresh do's.

I am now officially addicted to Chinatown and its colorful sights, sounds, and smells. I really love the feeling of being the only white person in sight on the block. (I have ideas about what this says about my personality and I am fine with that.) No English is being spoken anywhere near me, I can only read %30 of the signs, grandmas careen about on little BMX bikes with shopping bags tied across the bars, old dudes smoke in doorways, and I am just one more, inconsequential white guy. The only effort required to make this exotic trip is the will to get out of bed and cross Broadway! This is the perfect, exotic daycation destination for a bed loving, cuddle bunny such as myself. O, wo, it is sooooo hard to tear oneself from the warm confines of the covers on a rainy, blustery bayside day––when the seagulls are wheeling about the wind ripped palms, whilst torn umbrellas fly from the hands of tempest strained travelers bent on… keeeerist. Enough already!

The florescent world of wonder!

On 10^th street between Harrison and Webster, there is a building that houses a special sort of mini-mall.  It is the kind of place where a brand new business can fly for the first time. Inside there are three floors of everything from acupuncture clinics to traffic schools, herbalists, hair stylists, massage, temples, notary publics and the hypnotic clicks of mahjong tiles. You can walk in here and get a new look, a better feeling body, cleanse the soul and buy a new cell phone. I love the barebones look in here. The spaces are either very small or kind of small and the second floor is nearly vacant. I called the number on one of the signs and the rent was a reasonable $375/month. On the third floor, the look is more hotel-ish and the spaces are larger with a second floor loft. It is up here that a very reasonably priced full body or 75-minute foot massage can be had. Imagine, 75 minutes! I don’t know if I could take it, but it is tempting.

My pinky is killing me!

This is a place at once familiar and completely unfamiliar. It is indeed a mall and we’ve all seen malls but maybe not one like this one. It is not spectacular in any way that is immediately apparent. Getting into the details is where the pay-off is… the hand lettered signs on 8X10 colored paper, hair salon posters with bygone styles, paper bunny cut-outs, things that seem lost in time. I’ll probably never get a haircut here, pray, or buy a dvd, but I will return and perhaps buy a nice piece of jade, or some healing herbs for my body. It is certain that I will be back many more times for that comforting feeling of being completely out of place.

 Temple signage.

 wtfdto is a persistent production, a division of the toodleton enterprise network

all photos k. thomson

hop on the Kyoto Express!!!

I love the proverbial “hole in the wall” style of place. Maybe it is from the childhood love of building little forts out of couch cushions, or making subterranean foxholes in the woods, little tree house shacks, or bedrooms in the corners of huge warehouses out of drop cloths. I like to be snug. I also think the secretive nature of the hole in the wall suckers me so. And, I will admit to loving that feeling of exclusivity, or discovering something not everybody knows about. The very nature of the street address of the hole in the wall establishment makes me melt; they almost always have the fractional representation of one half, after the number… why, why do I love this sort of thing so much?

When I think of some of my favorite tiny places I get a rush of good feelings from throughout my entire life. The first candy store I was allowed to walk myself to was a hole in the wall, a million old newsstands––now mostly gone, the shoe repairman on Guerrero just up the hill from 15th, pizza joints, lunch counters… God, it is beginning to sound like a nostalgia trip.

On one of my earliest DTO wanders, I noticed a tiny place on Webster Street, above 17^th. (Ok, ok, sue me, maybe not fully DTO but within my prowl range) It’s called Kyoto Express and it is just about one of the cutest little lunchtime joints around. I noticed it one day because of the sweetly lettered sandwich board on the sidewalk. It took me a while to get around to going in, but I finally made it this past Friday when the wind was howling and the rain whipping around the corners. I looked out the window of the snug shack and said, “time for soup”, then I wrestled my new lavendar umbrella against the gale and got myself over to Kyoto Express.

The place is small, two round deuces on the right, a slim counter with four seats on the left. Paintings by the owner, Im Suk Kim, cheer up the left hand wall. Suk’s sweetly brushed lettering is also on the sandwich board, the menu behind the counter and the to-go menu. I settled in at the counter and then walked the two strides to the back counter to order. From this spot, you can see the tiny goings on and things are clean and shipshape. Suk, is very friendly and I placed my order for a tofu and veggie soba soup.

One of Suk's paintings.

Almost 10 minutes later a fairly large, $6.75 bowl of soup came my way. It looked as good as it smelled. A beautiful little nori garnish sat on top of fresh cabbage, generous chunks of tofu, broccoli, carrots, onions, and a good load of soba. Suk had asked me if I wanted it spicy and I said yes, but on my initial sips, there was little trace of spicy. From experience, I know that it is best to go slowly, continually stir, and let the broth come into its own as I eat, and so I did. The broth opened up with a little bit of soy sauce and continued to do so until I was at the bottom of the bowl. I was hooked for reals. Between this and my favorite pho ga I am now set for anymore of this wintry foolishness the weather wants to throw our way this spring.

Veggie and tofu soba soup.

I went back just today to try the unagi special. Now, before the moaning starts about sustainability I have to clear myself here. My fish consumption is roughly 2 to 3 pounds per year and that is being extra generous. I have strong feelings about the over fishing of the ocean, the methods used, farm raised fish/eels, etc. Due to those strong feelings, I limit my intake and I avoid altogether anything in danger of extinction.

Before I ordered my unagi plate, I was ignorant about the eel situation. Now I know better and will probably never order it again, which is too bad, because it was tasty. The unagi special is only $7.99, comes with 3 pieces of unagi sushi and 9, count ‘em, 9 pieces of California roll, a salad, and a bowl of miso soup. Oh, and the roasted corn green tea is FREE, serve yourself. (Eat your heart out Samovar!) This special makes a great king-sized lunch or fine light fare for two. When I go back I will ask Suk about a substitution for the unagi.

The unagi special.

Kyoto Express is in its twelfth year of operation and is open from 11:30 am to 3:00pm. Suk is a one-woman operation; so, if she is busy, please take that into consideration. Seating is limited so don’t expect to sit down right away during peak hours. Off-peak, this is a great and cozy spot!

Im Suk Kim, heroine of soup, fan of Bach and Beethoven!

Kyoto Express

1721½ Webster Street

Oakland, CA 94612

(510) 444-1717

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 all photos, k. thomson