Ben "Tinker, tailor, poet, spy" K.'s Profile

There are fundamentally two kinds of flea markets: One, where there's a pretty equal mixture of second-hand, yard saled, estate saled, and otherwise passing-through-hands vintage stuff and straight up trash, and there's the other kind, where there's maybe some used stuff, but it's mostly dollar-store bullshit arranged in endless boxes of the same garden gloves and bubble solution that you saw in every other stall. The latter is often cleaner, and you know what you're getting. The former is where anybody who has half an interest in flea markets wants to be. (The third kind, an antiques fair, is too far an outlier to even really be mentioned)

The Berkeley Flea Market is the former. Yes, there's some trash there. Yes, there's a constant low-level weed haze washing over the stalls. Yes, maybe that shit you had stolen last week is going to show up there. But, this is the wild west of flea markets. If you go in with open eyes, there are some gems to be had, especially if you're willing to really sift through and haggle a bit.

As a bonus, the drum circle makes this feel like a community landmark, and food vendors are pretty good. This isn't a particularly large flea market, and selection is hit-or-miss, as you would expect, but that's better than shooting straight down the middle every time.

This is the kind of place that makes you feel like you're one of the cool kids just because you managed to find your way in. Other reviewers set the stage well: You walk by an unmarked door, some dude maybe ushers you in because you're sporting skinny jeans and plaid and look lost, you pay your "suggested donation" cover, make your way up some stairs where, at about the second flight, you begin to think that maybe somebody's fucking with you, and there isn't actually anything here and then suddenly you're in a crazy back alley (yes, a third-floor back alley) that leads to a courtyard with a cheap-as-hell bar, a ping pong table crowded to the gills with people holding a tecate in one hand and a paddle in the other, and, yeah. A tree house.

Either that sounds like the most fucking awesome party you've ever even heard of, or you probably shouldn't go. It's crowded, but there are side rooms to retreat for a breath. The ping pong thing is wild, and honestly I had more fun watching than participating, but there's such a crazy energy in the room from it--and maybe from the fact that, as another reviewer pointed out, you get the feeling that most of the people there know each other, and you've somehow wormed your way into the bitching party of your neighbors who you didn't realize were this cool.

I can't wait for it to come back.

Ahhh. This place is out of control.

I usually gravitate to stuffed, poorly organized, more poorly lit, charming book stores--bookstores like Shakespeare and Co. down the street, but I'm glad I stopped into Moe's, despite being skeptical at its totally-adequate lighting, roomy aisles, and clear organization (and the presence of new books; I like my used book stores pure). BUT. It gets a pass from all of my usual criteria because its selection is amazing and prices great. Books I've been looking for forever and had all but given up finding were all over the place here. It's the only place I've been to in a long time whose poetry section isn't laughably small (Jack Spicer's Collected Books? Sign me up. An old Rachel Blau DuPlessis? Yes, pls). My only regret (other than the massive hole in my wallet) is that I didn't have time to go up to the fourth floor antiquarian/art books section, which promises to double-down on the excellence which is this bookstore.

I do miss the feeling that a book has been on the shelf for years, just waiting for you, but really, a book store is about stock and prices, and Moe's has that down pat. Now, if only they had a cat wandering around...

The bad: Sometimes public transportation gets delayed. It happens, and it sucks, but it's not unique to Capitol Corridor, so I can hardly blame them, but it is irksome. It's also a problem that it costs considerably more to take the train than to drive. I commute from the bay to Davis, and $22 each way is pretty steep (a ten ride cuts that in half, roughly, and if I were going every day, a monthly pass would cut it more, but spending $350 on my commute each month still seems expensive).

The good: You can always find a seat, and often a table to get work done at. Staff has always been helpful and friendly. And--this is the point that probably outweighs the rest of them--dining cart means you can have a beer on your way home from work. Try to do that stuck in traffic on 80 watching the HOV lane inch by. I didn't think so.

Here's the thing about Sophia's: If you're a graduate student in Davis who wants to go to a bar you will absolutely come here, so it almost doesn't matter what I write in a review here. Where else are you going to go? Froggy's? Get serious.

The strict segregation in town isn't all bad. It's nice going to a bar and knowing that if somebody is out on a given night, you will see them there. And the bar isn't actually bad. Crowded at times, as one might expect, and it's frustrating when there's a cover for the only bar you were really considering going to (although the music that the cover is in place for is usually rock solid), but tap selections are fine (especially with the introduction of Racer 5 and Brother Thelonious), cocktails are professional (surprisingly good, actually, if not world-class--but this is Davis, not SF), bartenders are super friendly and helpful (assuming it's not Friday/Saturday night and patrons are clamoring three-deep at the bar), and ambience is totally acceptable (if confusing--it takes some remembering that this is a Thai restaurant when you're used to patronizing the bar exclusively. Also that Thai and Tiki are the same decor set).

Things could be a lot worse. Sometimes it's nice to go where everybody knows your name.

I have to admit, I rarely go to the Lizard Lounge except to see Session Americana, but god damn if that isn't the best possible venue to see those fools. The setting is incredibly intimate, it feels like everyone knows each other (whether or not that's actually true), the beer is great, and you can order Cambridge Common food. If only there weren't a cover, I'd be there every night--and, honestly, given the length of shows here, the cover really isn't that bad. What were you going to spend that money on anyway? A movie? Groceries? You don't even like groceries.

Apparently fire codes were just revised, meaning that they can't allow as many people into the dimly lit basement, which is a mixed bag. On the one hand, you're more likely to snag a table and be able to see the band, but on the other, whenever you remove people from a space, it'll affect the energy of the room, and this is no exception. Which is not to say that the place is empty, but it's definitely not *crowded,* and there's something about not having to elbow my way past gaggles of drunk people singing out "Beer town!" that I just can't get on board with.

Outside Session, every act I've seen here has been stellar, and the experience has been great. The one real gripe I have is that I wish doors opened earlier so it would be possible to get there and eat dinner at a reasonable hour and then wait around for the show. But that's not a major problem; it certainly hasn't kept me from coming back.

Honestly, it's perhaps something to their credit that I somehow manage to be disappointed by Pluto's every single time I come here. I can't think of anywhere else that consistently holds my expectations to a high enough level that they always manage to come in well under them.

That having been said, I have no idea why I come back. Or, rather, I know exactly why--my friends take me, and I always have an idea in the back of my mind that somehow, this time will be better. Nope. Every time, I get a sandwich that's smaller than I would hope and pay more than I would like to for it. Maybe that's my fault for getting sandwiches over salads (although, I still have an issue with ordering something that I could make just as well at home--there seems to be little difference between this set up and a salad bar except that I don't actually get to decide how much of each ingredient I would like).

Is Pluto's bad? No, not at all. Everything always has solid flavor, the patio is pleasant when it's not packed, and coffee is decent and endless. But for an $11 sandwich and coffee, I expect more than just "okay," especially when it's such a disaster trying to order every time (Pro tip: line technology is basically a solved science that goes something like this: Get in a line. Order in the order you arrived in the line. Pay in the order that you ordered).

I'm sure I'll be there again, and I'm sure by the time I'm there, the haze of memory will have fuzzed out some of the unfortunate aspects of the Pluto's experience and I will again be disappointed. And perhaps that's more my fault than Pluto's.

In the gauntlet of fast and mediocre lunch places which is 3rd between A and B, there have always been two staring each other down from either end of the battlefield, steely-eyed and garlicky. Sam's and Ali Baba's, the two Mediterranean falafel joints, gesture provocatively at each other, shawarma in one hand and your money in the other.

For as long as I've been here, I've been meaning to try Sam's but always fell back to Ali Baba's on account of never having any cash on me ever. No longer! Finally I found myself with $5 in my pocket, a hankering for some tahini, and a mission. I'm glad I did. In almost every respect, Sam's is the easy victor over Ali Baba's. Although Baba has the flashier exterior, the better-lit seating and (this is the one which I'm sure will keep me coming back) the acceptance of plastic, Sam's ample outdoor seating, *much* faster service and better-tasting sandwiches have carved out a spot in my rotation for it. I haven't had the falafel there yet (having gone with the lamb kebab this time), and my lunch compatriot said she preferred the hummus sandwich at Ali Baba's, I'm eager to return and expand my repertoire. The lamb I got was exquisite, if perhaps a bit tahini heavy, and (praise be) they actually had an appropriate hot sauce (something at least approaching harissa) instead of the Mexican Tapatio adorning every table at Ali Baba's (to each his own, and I mean no disrespect to Tapatio, but when I'm eating a falafel, I want it to be a falafel, not a chickpea burrito).

Cash-only is a major blow, and Sam's doesn't quite have the hometown, best-I've-ever-had quality that makes me forgive a cash-only place its quirk. However, that having been said, if you do find yourself with paper money, I would go to Sam's over Ali Baba's every time.

Usually, when I review things in Davis, there's a Davis handicap in play. Davis isn't San Francisco, and I don't expect it to be. However, when I say that this pizza is pretty damn good, I mean that not only is this clearly, without question, the best pizza in Davis, this is among the best pizza I've had anywhere in the country.

Here's the thing about pizza: toppings are easy. Anybody can source local vegetables or throw some top-notch prosciutto on top. What separates good pizza from great pizza is the crust. This is where Village Pizza's bakery-first, pizzeria-second pedigree shines. This crust is impeccable. The brick-fired char, the chewy texture that almost, somehow, borders on melty (why are those close on the spectrum? I could not possibly tell you), the slight tang that belies a slow rise and a well-cared-for starter. Everything is just spot-on. The toppings are almost an after-thought (and, honestly, occasionally feel that way), like a second-rate piece of art placed on a gorgeous pedestal.

If there are any complaints, its that outdoor seating is chilly when it's chilly, and indoor seating can be limited, and I was a little bit disappointed that for an upscale pizza joint, there weren't more adventurous topping choices, but so it goes.

What a fabulous time. I'm not a wine-tasting expert, so I don't have a huge stock of other experiences with which to compare this to, but I'd be surprised if this didn't come out on top when I do. Everybody at the winery was incredibly nice, and really great about answering questions about the wine if you had them, or letting you just enjoy the setting and the wine if you didn't. Even with a chill in the air and sporadic rain, the whole thing was just aw perfect afternoon.

And the wine! All of it was really phenomenal, even for grapes that the people with me didn't normally like (one was averse to chardonnays, another to reds in general). The Rutherford, the star of their line-up, was unsurprisingly the favorite, and outside of a tasting, I'm not sure when I would have the chance to dig in to a $75 bottle of wine. Moreover, for a tasting, these pours were surprisingly generous-- especially when the initial 4 tastes turned into 5 turned into 6. Your driver may have to push a few of his glasses on to a friend, or at least spend time enjoying the view or walking around the grounds.

Seriously, hop in your car, pop on over, and write off an afternoon.