California's Pizza Kitchen: The Cheese Board Collective

Cheese Board's pizza of the day with gratuitous extra slices

Being a transplant from California to New York, I am often asked to verify New York pizza claims. Is it really that much better? Does it put California pizza to shame? I always respond with the politically calculated answer--they're different. Those who know me know that I don't need to hedge my response to save feelings. If something is objectively better, I'll say it. But pizzas from California and New York really are different. Too often people only make the distinction between Chicago style deep dish and the Neapolitan thin crust as the only two kinds. Yet, my recent trip to Berkeley's famous Cheese Board Collective reaffirmed my conviction that the differences even among thin crust pizzas need to be highlighted and celebrated.


More...
Breaking it down simply, New York pizza is all about simplicity and execution while California pizzas are about complexity and creativity. Both types emphasize the importance of quality ingredients, but the East Coast cares much more about the fundamental building blocks of the pizza--dough, sauce, and cheese. California pizzerias don't cling to tradition; of course they don't, there is no pizza tradition in California. Starting with Wolfgang Puck, the pizza in California has always been innovative and new. The focus is on the ingredients, often a blend of the unexpected. In fact, if you look for a "traditional" pizzeria in California, you're likely to be steered towards New York or Italian transplants.

Just as a personal anecdote, during my first New York pizza experience years ago at Grimaldi's, I had a plain cheese pizza. I hadn't had pizza with no toppings since it was forced on my as a kid at party's thrown by picky eaters. It was then that I realized New York and California pizza just don't compete in the same field. Just as you don't order a pizza with no toppings in California, you don't order a combination pizza in New York.


Long lines, but fast moving customers

The Cheese Board Collective started in 1967 as a cheese shop. In the 1970s, it began baking bread and earned renown for its baked goods. It actually wasn't until 1990 that it began selling pizza, the draw by which I first discovered it. In an informal poll among my friends, any reference to the Cheese Board was always followed by, "the pizza place."



The Cheese Board offers one pizza selection a day with no substitutions. Its emphasis is on fresh, local ingredients, no surprise given the store's location on the other side of the street from Chez Panisse. While many California pizzas strive to impress you with over-the-top exoticism (hello, Jamaican jerk chicken and Peking duck), this pizza was comparatively plain. The pizza was outstanding, with lemon citrus notes and cilantro playing up the garlic and roma tomatoes. Sharp hints of feta gave some variety to the workhorse mozzarella. Best of all, the pizza was accessible, something you think you can make as long as you have the best ingredients.


Live jazz music

The appeal of the Cheese Board is beyond just a solid appreciation for its food. It is a collective, owned and operated by its workers. The open store front and live music play up the atmosphere and it's hard to come out of the experience without a smile. And of course, a healthy amount of civil disobedience was thrown in across the street by patrons without a table at this busy joint. Let's not forget where we are boys and girls.



The Cheese Board Collective
cheesboardcollective.coop
1504 Shattuck Ave.
Berkeley, 94709
(510) 549-3183
$2.50/slice, $20/whole

^

Iceland: Saegreifinn (Sea Baron)

Besides Baejarin Beztu, the other name I kept coming across on Chowhound posts about Iceland was Saegreifinn, a.k.a. Sea Baron. This casual restaurant is more fish shack than fine dining. Customers order at the counter then sit on narrow fish barrels along communal benches. Still, even Mark Bittman has called out Saegreifinn for its outstanding lobster soup.
More...


The entire dining area is tiny. At the time I went, there weren't very many customers and people rotated in and out fairly rapidly. I imagine during high tourist season in the summer, the place is packed to the gills. As with almost anywhere else in Iceland, the proprietors speak perfect English. Their English was so good in fact that I frequently forgot to practice the Icelandic phrases I picked up for the trip. I did however, satisfy my goal to be able to pronounce Eyjafjallajökull, the volcano that erupted last year.



I believe Saegreifinn serves their famous lobster soup year-round, but check the display case for the local catch of the day on kebabs. The soup has a Nordic flavor profile, rich and hearty with some slight sweetness and ample amount of lobster. The locally fished lobster is smaller than we're used to, but sweeter in taste. It actually reminded me more of crawfish. I've been told it is specifically langoustine. Indeed it does have that same taste.





From the fridge, we picked out a halibut kebab. The waitress brought the kebab to the back to be grilled while we warmed up with the soup and heaps of crusty bread. The soup and the complimentary bread would be enough to make a light lunch, but we were about to head for the airport. While the fish was certainly fresh, it lacked the flavor of the outstanding Pacific halibut I had in Alaska.




While in my trip, I had plenty of delicious food, I didn't partake in much of the exotic fare. I avoided hakarl, the Fear Factor-esque fermented shark that is described as licking a urinal. I also didn't have reindeer or puffin, which I hear tastes very fishy. I did however, eat a whale kebab. Iceland and Japan are two of the few countries that still whale. They are also two countries where you can find whale on the menu. The texture is easy to describe--tough, like an overcooked steak. The taste is much odder. Imagine a cross between tuna and beef, or if a cow was only fed a diet of fish. Whale is one of those things you can say you've tried, but you're not likely to go back.

Saegrefinn (Sea Baron)
354-553-1500
Geirsgata 9, 101 Reykjavik
The restaurant is located in the Northwest of Reykjavik by the harbor.


^

Iceland: Baejarins Beztu Pylsur

A whole post on a hot dog stand? Of course, especially when Baejarins Beztu Pylsur is one of the most famous restaurants/stand in a parking lot in all of Iceland.

More...
In my research for Icelandic cuisine, one place kept reappearing. Both locals and foreign tourists alike stop at Baejarins Beztu Pylsur ("Town's Best Hot Dog") for the 300 korna frank.



Ask for it with everything and you'll get ketchup, sweet mustard, fried onion, raw onion and remolaði, a mayonnaise-based sauce with sweet relish. The sauce is striking. As with much of Iceland's saucy cuisine culture, it is bold and sweet like a tangy gravy. I've mentioned before that Icelandic lamb is special. The addition of lamb to the mix of beef makes the sausage unique. There characteristic flavors of lamb shine, even through the sauce and other toppings.

Considering how expensive food, among other things, is in Iceland. Baejarins Beztu makes an excellent cheap meal. Find it near the water in the old Northwestern part of Reykjavik near the port, across from the Radisson.

Baejarins Beztu Pylsur
Tryggvagata 101, Reykjavik

^