San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
FIT FOR A ‘TOP CHEF’
Sobre Mesa in Oakland offers a rich AfroLatino menu and vibrant cocktails in a tropical setting
Nelson German cooks up a rich AfroLatino menu at his Oakland hot spot.
To look inside Oakland’s Sobre Mesa is like peeking into a time capsule: to catch a glimpse of an aesthetic optimism that is hard to find in the restaurant world of today, when dolling up the dining room is generally low on the long list of pandemicera priorities. Its interior is lush with tropical greenery and lit with vivacious pink and green lighting; just from a glance, it’s easy to imagine how it must feel to sink into one of the tall, upholstered booths as the rum starts to hit you.
The highly anticipated AfroLatino lounge, one of the few bars in downtown Oakland owned by people of color, opened on March 5, 2020. Then, as quick as a California poppy closes at sunset, it shut its doors; shelterinplace orders hit the Bay Area a week later. Now, chef and owner Nelson German is redoing the restaurant’s debut after being introduced to a national audience through “Top Chef: Portland.” Nearly a year after its initial opening, the lounge is poised to become the neighborhood hot spot it was meant to be.
It starts with the vibe: To use an easy reference point, Sobre Mesa feels very tikilike, from the monstera and palm leafpatterned art motifs to the potent, citrusbalanced cocktail menu originated by Susan Eggett of Last Rites in San
Francisco. It’s a more luxurious kind of hangout spot than German’s first venture, the fastcasual seafood restaurant Alamar Kitchen & Bar. While tiki as most know it has a tendency to be as realitybased as an Old Navy Hawaiian shirt, German plays with the triedandtrue format to create a welcoming space that reflects his African and Dominican ancestry: in traditional ingredients like cassava and plantain that proliferate on the menu, the bar’s Dominican Republicsourced liquors, and the many people of color that staff the frontofhouse. It’s a format that, similar to newer bars like Low Bar, Oeste and Viridian, was aimed toward a demographic that has historically been left out of highend cocktail culture.
An oldfashioned goes tropical
with doses of ginger and limescented falernum and a caramelly mangobrown sugar syrup ($12), while an eyecatching riff on the Sea Breeze, called Lake Breeze, adds smoky mezcal, lime, hibiscus and an edible marigold bloom ($12). For those who don’t drink alcohol, there are three nonalcoholic or lowalcohol cocktails that are just as carefully composed as their stiffer brethren. The lowABV Cities of Gold ($6) is all sunshine, featuring pineapple cordial with demerara syrup and citrus; a turmeric tincture balances it with the spice’s earthy and subtly bitter notes.
The bright drinks pair well with the interior, which is open with limited capacity. I’m not quite ready to dine indoors yet, but sitting outside during Sunday brunch, soaking in those famous East Bay rays, is also an ideal way to experience the restaurant. The semienclosed parklet (which has a wheelchair ramp) is decked out
with colorful furniture and tropical plants and offers a clear view of the vibrant murals on the building’s exterior, meant to decorate boardedup windows. In March, live funk and jazz bands performed for outdoor diners, bringing a fresh liveliness to the neighborhood.
The food menu also sparks emotion and delight, and like the best of the bar food genre, German’s small plates quietly prompt you to swallow drink after drink to follow your unconscious cravings. They present the ingredients of the African diaspora with some very Californian touches that feel unforced. German stuffs roasted ripe plantains ($13) with a longcooked ragu of Impossible Meat; during crab season, sweet Dungeness crabmeat comes with salsa criolla (vinegared onion, chiles, tomatoes and garlic).
There are also spins on classic American bar foods. Tostones (three for $10), in which green plantains are smashed and fried up like chips, are a grownup take on cheese and crackers: They’re topped with salty layers of spicy ‘nduja sausage, aged cheddar and a silvery cured anchovy fillet. I could have gotten a few plates. Chicken wings ($12) are slowcooked and slick with duck fat. In December, they were served with a bright chimichurri; now, a peppery Nigerian red sauce. Either way, these are the most tender chicken wings I’ve ever had, requiring little more than a nibble to get the meat to separate from the bone.
The true godking of the table is the bone marrow ($17), a large, split beef bone slathered with a chilespiked redandgreen chimichurri. The bone is roasted until the marrow takes on the unctuous, semigelatinous texture of highfat, room temperature butter, while the chimichurri keeps each bite from feeling overwhelmingly rich. It leans on a simple mound of young arugula and is accompanied by crostini and refreshing cubes of pickled cassava that bear a striking resemblance to the pickled radish you might get with your Korean fried chicken takeout.
When I talk about a place feeling like a “hot spot,” I mean that there is so much about the experience that feels engineered to bring you back to life: after a hard day at work, after a breakup, after a year of never hearing a stranger sing in your presence.
The bone, for instance, begs to be turned into a vehicle for shots. While COVID consciousness prevents this, I hope Sobre Mesa will be the site of many marrow luges in the bright, postpandemic future. I could see this space as being one of the funnest places to eat in Oakland, and I’m glad it’s back on track.