176 Instagram followers and less than 20 episodes of a new podcast, only 8 of which were specifically about food. And the thought renting penthouse-level real estate in the front of my mind was, “why are you here??”

I came across a post about the Black Women in Food Summit in either late 2022 or early 2023 and immediately knew I wanted to go. By this time, I’d been sharing my experiences with food around the Bay on my IG page for a while, and although the podcast wasn’t yet centered solely around food, those were always the episodes that felt closest to what I wanted to be talking about. Created by Nina Oduro and Maame Boakye under their business Dine Diaspora, the summit was unique in that it was a gathering for Black women across every intersection of the food industry you could imagine: chefs, restauranteurs, writers, publishers, food justice workers, policy makers, farmers, beverage professionals, consumer packaged goods, influencers…the works.

And me.

With my 176 followers and my nagging self-doubt about just how much one should actually have accomplished before calling yourself a Black woman in food, I asked myself how I was defining “in.” But even with all of my looming questions, I marched into the summit and enjoyed the two days of programming, which included speakers, panels, a marketplace, but most importantly, proximity. To info. To people I’d spent time following on social media who were already making names for themselves in the industry. To people just starting out who were on the precipice of doing the same. I went to breakout sessions that aligned with topics of interest for what I was doing and got to talk and ask questions in a smaller space, and by the end of the summit, 176 followers was just over 210. It felt good, but I wasn’t at all convinced that I was actually a Black woman in food.

Over the next 2 years of the summit, both of which I attended, I dialed in on two things: building up the podcast, and building and maintaining relationships. I’d meet people there, and then spend an entire year following along with their growth and accomplishments via social media, so that when I saw them again at the next year’s event, there was an actual human investment in their story. A legit happiness to see things that’d just been an idea now fully living in the world. And as The As Told By Podcast grew into being about food stories exclusively, I started reaching out to people I’d met at the summits to have them on as guests. I knew their stories and was hugely inspired by many of them, and felt that my audience might be too. And they were. By the time the 2025 summit ended, I was 5 complete seasons and 53 original episodes into the podcast (enough to air re-runs as needed), which had come to feature people and brands with widely known profiles, as well as folks familiar and loved in the Bay. I’d partnered with a few brands. People purchased ads on the pod. I’d become a member of Bay Area Travel Writers. I’d started writing in-depth accounts of my restaurant experiences on Substack. I’d curated several pop-up dinners. I’d began traveling to attend food festivals. I’d attended 2 years of the James Beard Awards, partnering with PR companies on work while there.

Dare I say it?? I was starting feel like….a Black woman in food.

But it wasn’t until this year, 2026, as I stood in front of their branded display where I’ve made it a point to take a photo every year, that it felt different. A handful of people lovingly calling out to me as “Kay In The Bay!” as we hugged and asked each other how we’d been since we last saw each other in real life. I asked someone to take my pic and when I looked at it, there I was, dressed in leggings, a sweatshirt, and sneakers, a good azz coffee in hand (my most authentic state of being).

I was a Black Woman In Food. And this time, even I knew it.

If you take nothing else from this, know that your journey to be a thing starts when you decide that that is what you are, and believing it for yourself makes space for a community to show up and believe it with you.

See y’all in 2027. I’m going to eat my Pecandy.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

Ok, so clearly, I need to come up with a name for the newsletter! If y’all have any suggestions, I’m open to hearing them….after all, this is our space together : )

I made it to my bed before 11p tonight, which has become a bit of a feat lately. Being fully immersed in Day Job Land again and the demands of being in a new area of the business has been taxing, if I’m being honest. I vascillate between “bish, people are being laid off left and right…I wish you WOULD complain,” and “I’m changing and am not sure that this aligns with who I am anymore.”

The problem is things like turning a key in my door, cable, wifi, Costco shopping, expensive hair styles, dining out, pedicures, traveling, live music, acupuncture, and paying bills on time does still align with who I am. You get my drift.

I have a friend whose life as a digital nomad has been drawing my admiration lately. What would it look like to cash out my savings and make a go of that kind of life? Would I still love working in food media as much if it was all I had? I type this as I sit perched comfortably in my bed, on the adjustable base mattress with the massage function and the built-in USB ports. Comfort can get a hold of you that’s hard to reposition.

Nonetheless, I’ll be spending tomorrow preparing to head to the Black Women in Food Summit, which I look forward to every year; this will be year 4 for me, and there are so many folks I’m looking forward to seeing! One of the best parts of the summit is meeting people and getting to watch their endeavors and progress for a year until the next summit, and then encountering them again with a whole new appreciation for who they are. The speakers, the sessions, the community….the hairstyles, the outfits…good times are in store! I must say, I was intentional about not planning a single, solitary thing besides the summit while I’m there. I’m totally allowing the days take me where they will. if you know me, you know this is new territory!

But there’s community to be had at home too, and I’d love to have lunch with some of you that are part of this one when I get back! If you live in the Bay, this is for you!

There’s a restaurant I’ve passed a few times, and I always take notice of it but had never heard of it nor visited. It looks like a pretty casual spot, and it’s Peruvian food. I’ve never had Peruvian food I didn’t really enjoy. Normally, I’d pop up there alone on some random day to have my own experience, but why not do that with some of you? So I decided to make it a lunch meet up! Here are the deets:

Saturday, May 2nd at 1230p

Asu Mare Peruvian Restaurant

6211 Shattuck Ave, Oakland CA

The place isn’t that large from what I can tell, so I’m looking to keep this intimate, as in me + 4 or 5 people. The format looks like counter ordering, and they don’t have an IG page, so I’m going into this with limited details, which I actually love! No reservations, no table on hold….just a regular ol’ meet up for what looks like good food.

Wanna join me? Comment “+1” on this post by Wednesday, 4/29; I’ll add you the list and once it hits 5 people, I’ll cap it and confirm. Simple, right? These days, my energy for deep curating is wrapped up in other things (work, the podcast, dating), but I think this is a lite, fun way to kick it with folks and enjoy a new spot. Let me know if you have any questions, and I’m looking forward to seeing who I’ll be dining with!

Dining out for the entire 11 days of Oakland Restaurant Week sounds like a lot, I know. I did not do that. I only dined out for 8 of the days. So there.

Living in the #1 Food City in the Country for the 2nd consecutive year has its demands, and I’m but a mere servant to the mission! This is actually a time of year I look forward to, because despite the fact that I’m in restaurants pretty often, I of course have my faves and they see me often. So a chance to peruse places that hadn’t yet commanded my attention was a welcomed chance. While Oakland has a handful of gems that consistently garner lots of media attention, I was intentional about hitting spots that aren’t always in the limelight; places that are either new, not new and maybe not always at the top of people’s thoughts, or ones that are less conventional in terms of not being a traditional sit down eatery. I even added a couple of spots that while they weren’t listed as participating in the actual restaurant week promotion, they're in Oakland and therefore were fair game. And yes, I threw one restaurant media baddie in the mix too….I couldn't help myself!

While I’m not doing a full review of all the places I visited, here’s what I will share:

• Each stop

• What I ate

• including tax and gratuity (where applicable)

• My three standouts (and why)

• Some observational feedback for Oakland Restaurant Week 2027

The Stops

Cafe Noir (West Oakland): BBQ Chicken Salad, Blueberry Lemonade - $25.90

-The salad wasn’t even the promotional items (it was a chicken sandwich), but it sounded really hearty and was exactly that.

Town Biscuits (Uptown): Country Ham Biscuit with Egg and Pimento Cheese, Coffee - $25.50

-That salty country ham against that creamy pimento cheese was a Southern bite I definitely was not expecting to find smack dab in the middle of Oakland! Country music, biscuits, and coffee early on a Friday morning.

Terrace Cafe (Oakland Hills): Bacon Quiche with a side salad and a Iced Hot Honey Latte - $20.80

-I refer to this place as my honeycomb hideout because it’s low-key and almost tucked away. They always have a good menu of fresh food. Also, my Hot Honey Latte was more honey than hot. I would’ve loved a sprinkle of cayenne on top!

Donut Savant (Allendale): assorted mini donuts - $9.00

-Since the donuts are little, so are the calories, right??? Isn’t that how that works?

Market Hall (Rockridge): Vegetarian Pizza Combo (a slice, a kale Caesar salad, and a bottle of water) - $12.08

-My favorite bougie grocery store…even the damn pizza and salad is high falutin and I’m here.for. it. Simple goodness.

Alice St. Bakery (Chinatown): Shrimp Burger with Orange Pineapple Mayo, Egg Roll, Crab Cheese Gyoza, Passion fruit Green Tea with Mango Popping Boba - $21.93

-I had to work with this sandwich; admittedly, it wasn’t my taste. But….I saw they have a pork chop sandwich on the menu, and a pork chop has never done me wrong, so I might spin the block! And they have the cutest packaging!

Bird & Buffalo (Temescal): Magic Mountain Tray/Northern (we’re gonna get into this!), Thai Iced Coffee - $64.72

-Vibes, vibes, vibes. And dedicated parking in an area of town notorious for not being able to find no damn parking!

The Cook and Her Farmer (Old Oakland): Steak Frites and a hibiscus cooler - $38.20

-If I start gushing about this meal I’ll never stop. Like, for real.

Burdell (Temescal): They hosted a coursed pop-up dinner with Houston-based Chop n Blok; I’m going to be writing a full standalone piece on this because it deserves that much - $155.48

-My high-class girlie!! I frequent this place because I love their approach to Black foodways, but a pop-up dinner with a restaurant I was actually planning to fly Houston to check out made this a complete no-brainer.

Now if you know me, you know I’m do not count myself to be an influencer. I’m not here to influence you to do a damn thing. I’m here to tell you what I did and what I thought, and you can do with that what you will. I count myself as an “informer.” Don’t you feel more informed already??

Here are the three rankings I will call forward though:

Most Creative ORW26 Promotional Award:

Bird & Buffalo - offering two different variety platters to choose from was a great idea because it created a lot of exposure points on one plate, which increases the likelihood of someone (me!) trying something they may have overlooked as a standalone item that’s now part of their repertoire. Smart! The platter had hot and cold and spice and texture and color, and the service was really friendly. This place is now firmly in my rotation!

The “You’re Who I’ve Been Waiting For” Award:

Town Biscuits - a good, fluffy, crusty biscuit is not around every corner in Oakland, but you know what’s even more elusive?? Pimento cheese. And there they were with both. At 7am no less. Bless all hearts involved.

The “I Didn’t Know You Were That Girl, But You Are” Award:

The Cook and Her Farmer - She ain’t loud. She ain’t flashy. She knows who tf she is, and you need to. I must say, this was hands down my favorite meal of the entire series because I didn’t see how it good it was coming. That jus. Those natural fries with the skins still intact. That scratch-made ketchup and aioli. The steak cooked to order. This is a market stall delivering better than a lot of freestanding places! I fell in love with Oakland just a little bit more this day. As if that’s possible.

And lastly, a little feedback:

-The site that houses the list of all the participating restaurants could use some reconfiguring. There was no categorization of who was doing breakfast, lunch, brunch, dinner, and I did not see where this was an option for filtering (nor was dietary restrictions; I don’t have any, but so many people do). I had to spend way too much time searching and sifting, literally clicking into each individual place (and there were mannnny) to see who was doing what, only to find that some places didn't even have promotional menus listed, which brings me to my 2nd point:

-Participating restaurants should be required to include their promotional menu in order to be included on the site list. There were several instances where I clicked on a place only to find a message like “menu coming soon” in lieu of an actual menu. In one case I even went a step further and called a place I was interested in going to ask what the promotional menu offering was and was told they weren't even participating. No bueno.

All and all though, I think you can probably tell I had a really amazing experience traipsing about, eating and being merry. Oakland Restaurant Week owes me nothing. Or at least very little. Which I’m happy to never collect. Put it on my ORW27 books.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

We definitely ain’t doing this every weekend though.

Folks, I have finally gotten with the times and the technology and merged the newsletter I’ve been keeping up with my website subscribers alongside the lovely folks who’ve subscribed to my Substack, and now we’re all one big, happy family!

But many of y’all barely know me (you subscribed to my Substack sight unseen and I love you for it!), so here’s a little about me:

I’m Kahja (a.k.a. Kay), born and raised in the Bronx, spent just over a decade in Atlanta, and I’ve been posted up in the Bay (Hayward, and now Oakland) for almost 12 years now. I’m a corporate gal who’s been building a house in food media called KayInTheBay in food media for the last 4 years that’s alllll about creating community through food; here’s the layout:

The Foyer: @heykayinthebay on IG; this is where you can keep up with me as I run all around the Bay and beyond exploring, eating, meeting, greeting, and running my mouth! It’s a great place to get to know me better if we’re new friends, and the link in my bio includes some of the fun things I’ve done : )

Main Room: The As Told By Podcast: think of all the amazing folks you know and wanna get to know across every intersection of the food space, and learning all about how they got there. Chefs, restauranteurs, authors, writers, media personalities, organizations, brands you know and love and prolly are in your cabinet today. This is an audio-format show because my demographic listener is on the go…and taking me with them!

Oh, and my 7th season is about to start TOMORROW!!!!

The Kitchen (you’re already in it!): Life-Sized Bites on Substack is where I write all the ish people on IG are too damn distracted and lazy to read. Deep dives into my experiences visiting restaurants around the country, (because 90 seconds and a bunch of pics is a slipshod way to talk about food as a singular format), and personal pieces about aspects of my life. And of course, the newsletter now.

Bedroom 1: KayInTheBay.com is my website; what’s there now is currently being revamped, but in about a month there’s gonna be a full menu of all the services I provide, and some cute (but very limited) merch this summer!

Bedroom 2: KayInThe Bay Curated Dining Events: simply put, I pick a dope, a local chef I love, and a versatile brand and put together a dinner that highlights all three (this part of the house is still under construction because I need a sponsor to keep building it, so more to come there soon, I hope). Here’s a video of my very first one.

I plan to make this house a mansion. I plan to move out of the beautiful apartment that is my good corporate job into a vast, open compound of a career all about sharing the experience of food with people like y’all. I’m working on it.

In the meantime/in between time, if you like a good interview/conversation, be sure to listen to the podcast when the new episode drops tomorrow, and then go hit that back catalog…73 whole azz episodes!!

And if you’re based in the Bay, I’m gonna be planning a meetup next month (April) to eat and kick it with whoever would like to join me (I’m thinking around 5-6 folks); there’s a place in Redwood City I’ve been wanting to check out, so let’s go together! More on that soon.

I hope you enjoy the pod, and I’ll talk to you soon!

Every year I tell myself I need to slow down. Somewhere in the last 4 years, my life started to become a series of running from event to event, email to email, commitment to commitment. Many of which are voluntary and I love doing; I’m in full prep mode right now to launch season 7 of my podcast in a couple of weeks, and last night as I was wrapping up getting my hair braided, my stylist asked me what I had planned for the next day (today, a Sunday). I couldn’t even answer without opening my calendar (sigh). To my surprise, besides a reminder to pay my rent, there wasn’t a damn thing on it. Thank goodness.

I immediately planned to fill my day with a light breakfast, followed by coffee, elevating my knee and treating it to some time on the heating pad in preparation for tomorrow’s lower body workout (I’m actively rehabbing it)...all that was missing was some mindless TV to add to the mix. Mindless, as in, I ain’t investing in no new people, new storylines, new nothing. I settled on Love & Hip Hop Atlanta (judge your mama!), and randomly started with season 2. And about halfway into its 13+ episodes, I had a thought. Several, actually.

Sometimes simpler is better.

Where you start is no guarantee of where you’ll finish.

Some people can see who they are before anyone else can.

In its early days, this show was pretty basic. Basic production, basic storylines, basic weaves and makeup. And that was the allure. Normalizing the lives of people in an industry built on glitz and fronting (even though we know better). And now with the end of the entire franchise of L&HH announced recently, what started so simply has become a gaudy azz mess by all accounts; seasons on seasons of people folks barely know and care about even less. A parade of showcases for music that never seems to see the light of day, and more body work than an auto collision center.

I realized I was enjoying watching the early days of this show because it wasn’t so polished. People were on the precipice. Of good and not so good. Rasheeda flaunting her marriage as leverage to K.Michelle (we all know how that turned out), Traci upset over being a BM, not knowing a cancer diagnosis was in her near future and there would be bigger fish to fry. The Puerto Rican Princess seeming to know exactly who tf she was becoming (what appears to be a happy wife and mother enjoying her life and minding her business) even though all signs pointed to why she maybe should’ve been a little less confident. I even thought across franchises to NY, and that infamous clip where DJ Self is downplaying Cardi B’s career potential. Big mistake. Huge.

And I immediately related it to my building internal fervor to “gain ground” with my business this year, whatever that means. Make the podcast feel fresh. 10x the video content on IG. Make a pitch calendars to stay on track because this is a numbers game. Remain competitive. Monetize. But there’s something to just running your race and enjoying the uphill climb. Showing up, doing your best, and going around unseen corners where your next best self just might be waiting.

On to season 3.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

You really can’t help but to find the pairing of food and culture in the Bay. It’s everywhere you look. Even when it’s not the focal point, it’s always somehow in the immediate background, making its place known and its presence felt.

But if we’re talking intentionality + food + culture, no one does it quite like La Cocina.

Born in 2005, the non-profit organization with origins in the Mission District of San Francisco exists to fulfill a simple mission: to transform informal food businesses into sustainable enterprises that create economic mobility for entrepreneurs; mostly women, always from immigrant populations.

Simple, right? As is often said, the devil is in the details. But so is the love.

Their footprint covers so much of the food story of the Bay, with businesses born of their incubator program to be found throughout some of the most populated congregations of food convening; if we’re just talking about the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market on Saturdays alone, between the actual Ferry Building and the market, there are at least 4 or 5. But this past weekend, they brought a group of hungry brunchers together for their first International House of Brunch event, featuring four businesses participating in their latest cohort.

Served family style (a hallmark of their seated events), what makes La Cocina so special was on full display. The literal creation of community through food. Held in what was formally their Municipal Marketplace (a beautiful, colorful, culinary atelier and a place where I first discovered Senegalese food through one of their alum, Teranga), petite florals, mimosas, and friendly chatter set the tone; I’m slowly backing out of drinking alcohol these days (slowly!), and someone comes by the table to pour chai. I feel seen.

The meal began with what may be the best biscuits I’ve ever had (prepared by Nu Panupong Sinarporn of Cuivre Bakery), and I’ve had plenty. However that texture of fluffiness ensconced in the perfect crispy exterior was achieved, the assignment was understood. Paired with a seasonal trio born to go on biscuits (raspberry kaffir lime jam, kumquat satsuma marmalade, and cranberry orange jam), I grabbed just one, and cut it in fours, smearing on a bit of each jam. I doubled back on that kumquat satsuma marmalade. Pace yourself, girl. (You better believe I purchased a jar of that jam to take home!)

We moved on to Pastrami Croquettes (prepared by Ansarys Andino of Chi Chi’s Kiosko); looking like arancini and eating almost like a Rueben, it’s no surprise that the chef responsible for these is a Puerto Rican woman from NYC. Crispy and decadent, they opened up to a creamy center of gouda, mozzarella, and swiss along with pastrami shards, and pickled cabbage and caramelized onions for a little tang and sweetness. We New Yorkers always do a lil extra.

Family style dining means having enough to enjoy but not to burst, and so I still had plenty of room for the Egyptian Baked Moussaka (prepared by Asma Ali of Mama Ganoush). We almost didn’t want to dig the serving spoon into it and disturb its beauty, but once we did, we were rewarded with a depth of tomato and eggplant and potato topped with a gorgeously broiled bechamel top that I mistook for cheese. Almost simultaneously, another platter landed, this one a collaborated dish from Chi Chi’s Kiosko and Royal Mocha, featuring spiced Puerto Rican-Yemeni beef meatballs atop sweet fried plantain slices and a Yemeni salsa. I’m time traveling between countries and regions without leaving my seat.

Our time with Yemeni food was just beginning though, and we were taken next to a Scrambled Shakshuka (prepared by Royal Mocha; I could not find their actual name, but they know who they are!); seeing shakshuka on the menu, I was excited, as it’s a dish I love and wish would be on more menus, but I was also prepared for my normal routine of dancing around the runniest parts of the eggs, usually poached in the sauce. Their version was scrumptiously scrambled together though, tasty and scoopable with a pita triangle. Runny yolk crisis averted. They also were responsible for that chai I was now two cups into.

And lastly, we were whisked back to the Thai-inspired baking style of Cuivre, this time with the most gorgeous plate of french toast I’ve ever seen. Thick slices of brioche that still had their integrity topped with poached pears, berries, candied citrus, toasted pistachios, whipped mascarpone, and served with maple syrup and a little boat of vanilla creme anglaise.

As I sat there at the end of the meal feeling like Templeton at the fair (IYKYK!), what I found most interesting about this entire meal is that I often have many if not all of these ingredients at home at any given time, but I would never be able to create this. Having the components is one thing; having the cultural who-ness to make those components a cohesive thing is quite another. And among strangers now turned dining friends, I noticed the lilt of accents, an array of hair textures, and pleased faces around the tables; it made me smile. La Cocina doing what they do best. Making culture and community real.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

Admittedly, Oakland’s popular music venue Yoshi’s is not my favorite place to take in a show. I’m not a fan of their process as it relates to experience. Depending on what show you’re there to see, there are always interesting observations to be made about the clientele, and as I was on my first solo date of the year, I had lots of time to observe friend groups, dates in progress, and general social behaviors. A post for another day.

On this day though, I was there to see Day 26, the male singing group created on the fourth iteration of one of MTV’s most popular shows from the 2000s, Making The Band, a talent competition where that man who’s Puffed Up (and is currently puffing in a federal prison) found unknown artists looking for their big break and turned them into stars. I’ll let you do the research if you aren’t familiar, but suffice to say, coming through the ranks of Bad Boy during that time came with a lot. Much of which played out on the show, and lots that we all learned in the last year by way of the front-facing legal case that aired loads of dirty laundry, including just how deeply and tragically many of the aspiring artists left in the wake of a “can’t stop, won’t stop, you bet’ not stop, and if you stop I’ll….” environment were impacted for years to come.

MTB4 was must-see TV in its day, and since the show will likely never see the light of day again on any channel (beyond YouTube) on account of all of its messy attachments, seeing them perform live was the next best thing. I have to say, I was actually a bit surprised at just how good of a show they put on. I’m not sure what I was expecting to see happen, but in all honesty, I was very impressed. I went for a show, but left feeling like I learned 3 key lessons (that I will absolutely be applying to my life):

Lesson 1: When you have to fight to learn something, it usually sticks.

Competing against thousands of people for your dream. Having to learn the musicality of multiple people and find your own unique place in it at a rapid pace. Your entire journey being filmed and etched into the culture. We all remember watching the endless hours of vocal and dance practice they were subjected to (and God knows what else). It paid off. As much as I dislike learning in pressurized situations, there seems to have been some value in it. Every group from yesteryear ain’t still performing like that.

Lesson 2: Multiple things are often true at once.

Being mentored by and adjacent to deplorable behavior that’s grossly unchecked is probably a terrible way to start a career. But watching their performance, something about what they learned within that space bred excellence. Their showmanship was still tight. Thankfully, I was not raised by or in the presence of anyone with any level of extreme behavior so I don’t have firsthand experience here, but if you can survive learning from a maniac, it is quite possible that you may adopt a kind of professional ethic that someone who didn’t work for a person in a power, money, and drug-fueled haze won’t. Does it make it right, fair, or acceptable? Hell no. But can it give you an competitive advantage? Absolutely. And they performed like they had one.

Lesson 3: Spend your time off-radar well.

We’ve all experienced seeing performers we may not have seen or heard from in a while and immediately being able to tell that they didn’t use their time away wisely. Aside from all being in what appeared to be decent physical condition (and I define that as sufficient enough to be on stage saaaanging and doing choreographed dancing in leather outfits for 90 minutes), their voices were in top shape. Whatever happened, I got the impression that they somehow knew not to let their talents atrophy because there would be more to come later. When MTB4 aired, they were in their 20’s; now in probably their very early 40’s, as where many folks look rusty, dusty, and are relying on nostalgia, Day 26 is still standing on the business of music and standing up behind their platoon, if you know the reference.

My takeaway? Always be preparing as though an opportunity to showcase the best of what you can do is coming (or coming back) at any moment.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

I thought a lot this year about the concept of preparing yourself for the things you want to do in life. And then had a dining experience that confirmed those thoughts.

I’d been invited to preview a restaurant’s new menu, and although I’m a solo dining extraordinaire, going with 1-2 additional people goes a long way as far as being able to try a variety of offerings. And instead of always inviting people from my core group of food friends, this year I started inviting folks who engage regularly with my food content on social media, listen to my podcast, or subscribe to this blog as a way of saying thank you for investing time and interest in me and my creative endeavors, and it was in this sense that I ended up at dinner with a young man I’d met at a few culinary events earlier this year as well as a friend of his, both of whom are students of San Francisco’s City College culinary program.

Over dinner, they talked to me about Chef’s Table, the college’s student run restaurant. I knew culinary schools often had these kinds of offerings and always wanted to try one out. I made a reservation for what turned out to be a beautifully sunny day in the city and headed over to Smith Hall on the hill, not quite knowing what to expect.

I walked in to the sound of soft jazz, white tablecloths, delicate floral accents on each table, and students of all ages and stages delivering an experience I’d expect in an actual restaurant setting: confirming my reservation at the host stand, walking me to my table where a tented “reserved” sign was waiting for me, pulling out my chair (I rarely experience that in actual restaurants). My server came by and introduced herself and went over the menu in more detail. Seasonal and not overly extensive, I was glad to not have tons of choices to make. She recommended the kumquat pink peppercorn spritzer, and I enjoyed its light, citrusy profile and the little pops of spice from biting into the berries (as citrus season is actively in full effect, I plan on re-creating a version of this drink at home.)

A man came by while I waited for my appetizer, delivering a wedge of challah bread accompanied by a perfect quenelle of butter which he described as cultured, 1%, inoculated with probiotic sour cream, and finished with sprinkles of fleur de sal. Impressive.

My appetizer and salad showed up at the hand of a server with one arm politely folded behind his back, just as I’d expect in a fine dining setting; it was a tuna carpaccio with whispers of fennel fronds, herbaceous and fatty and perfectly salted. The salad held its own, with escarole, persimmon, pomegranate and parmesan as a vehicle for what was my favorite element; hazelnuts with a deep, toasted nuttiness.

My friend comes by the table; he’s in his service white jacket which has his name embroidered on it, and I’m immediately proud of him. He mentions the special, a scallop risotto dish not listed on the menu. While the duck leg confit was where I’d originally planned on landing as far as an entree, I love a good recommendation, and I gladly took it. The dish followed the fennel frond continuum with a rich sauce that I dragged my remaining challah through.

Earlier in the meal I’d seen a dessert cart wheeled to a group of dinners nearby (something I don’t see often in restaurants anymore that I wish would make a widespread return), and now it was my turn. My server pulled up and parallel parked at my table, and the perfectly lined spread included an assortment of gourmet cookies, a lemon tart with a torched meringue, a flourless chocolate cake, and a creme brulee…..with a mushroom infusion???? This was a no-brainer. My choice was made, and with my first spoonful after cracking the top I detected the slight flavor of honey, my server confirming the sugar was lightly drizzled with it before torching. Vanilla bean flecked, it came topped with two gorgeous, crisp, wafer-thin pieces of palmier that were buttery and caramelized with brown sugar and a pinch of salt. They were perfection.

Of course this kind of meal isn’t complete without a cappuccino, and I’d made note of the coffee station when I first entered; they served up a frothy cup, and as I sat and sipped, I thought about my own work in food media this year and what it means to be in training, preparing for some bigger, unknown moment to do all the things I’d been working on, even though what mostly exists right now is the work and the process, and the faint beginnings of greater opportunities. The art of the dress rehearsal in expectation of what’s to come. It was just the inspo I needed.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

I‘ll cut to the chase. I’m not a New Yorker anymore. At least not in practice.

Finding myself in NYC on an expensed “work trip” has led to this discovery. I say “work trip” because the circumstances by which I ended up here are more convoluted than Jada and August’s entanglement. I’ll spare you the details for the moment.

After a 5 hour flight preceded by a 330a departure from my home (I was trying to avoid the fallout of the government shutdown that essentially turned TSA workers and air traffic controllers into volunteers, wreaking havoc on air travel for the last month), I landed at JFK exhausted. Walking from my gate to ground transportation may as well have been walking to Junior’s to get some man a slice of cheesecake, it was that far. I had enough sense to yank my semi-heavy tweed coat out of my luggage before I stepped outside the terminal, and I needed to. The temperature at 430p was 44°. It was wet, as though it’d rained earlier. It was gray and almost dark. It was cold. People were everywhere. Boxes, strollers, luggage carts, suitcases. It was a human cattle call. I felt myself starting to disassociate standing there, jockeying for position on the curb. My mind was on the unopened container of egg nog in my fridge at home, the fuzzy socks I’d forgotten to pack, and the mid-70s temps I was missing back in Oakland.

That place has a hold on me, I tell you.

As we were reminded to spend responsibly, instead of opting for a singular Uber to quietly whisk me into prime time traffic, I went with the new Uber shuttle; for a fraction of the price it’ll schlep you and several others from Queens to Manhattan, making 3 or 4 stops along the way. The ride was long. Almost 2 hours long. NYC roads are in need of work, and the customary herky-jerky driving style had now brought me to nausea’s door. I never get carsick. Ever. Now I was ready to earl. Rearing. Lurching. Stopping short. I tried to center (and entertain) myself by diligently watching the ground outside the window for rats at every stoplight. I didn’t see any.

The shuttle dropped me at my appointed stop in lower Manhattan. It was a 15 minute walk to my hotel, but my spirit needle was set on hell TF no. I called my next Uber to drive me the 6 mins away. For a combined total of approximately $40 (a steal), I’d thugged my way this far and was now taking luxuries.

The luxuries ended however at my hotel. I wasn’t the booker, seeing as booking took place before I was able to get my own corporate card reactivated. Yes, “re.” See my earlier reference to work, jobs, and convolution. Let’s just say this hotel has seen better times. It’s not at all where I would’ve chosen. I quickly brought my mind back to convolution and gratefulness. Bitch, you were almost jobless. Be easy.

By now, I needed food. My diet of Cheez-its, Biscoff, ginger chews, and tepid coffee had carried me thus far. I’d done some lite research beforehand on restaurants near where I was staying and found one that a lot of folks in the food world I respect were following. It was a 7 minute walk. Sans suitcase, I was down. I got a seat at the bar and was so tempted to wash my building negative energy away with espresso martinis in rapid succession, but I committed in October to no alcohol the remainder of the calendar year.

Damn.

My food was average, possibly a little below. For the first time in a very, very long time, I was dining alone and didn’t want to be. I think I needed a hug. The next best thing was dessert to-go, which I ordered.

Traipsing around cities eating alone is my ish, but not tonight. NYC and its pace feels foreign to me now after 21 years of not living here, and normally, I’d look forward to fading into a semi-plush room at somebody’s Hyatt and recasting something fun on the giant TV while desserting in bed. This hotel definitely ain’t giving that vibe.

This dessert better be damn good.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

Substack is its own little world. People are over here giving up ALL the words, and I love it! This is definitely the place to be when you want to delve into the fears, wins, perspectives, and IP of folks doing great work in their respective categories.

It’s also a place where you can very quickly 5 and 8 dollar your way into a bill by way of subscriptions! There’s definitely good info available for free, but there’s really good information behind some of these paywalls! For instance, you can come to my IG if a quick reel and a few picks of a new eatery is enough for you (and I’m glad to have you there!), but if you want the kind of writing that feels like you were right there with me at some of the best restaurants in the country, my paid Substack subscribers get all the details.

I get it. The game is to be sold, not told. Or at least the best parts.

Which brings me to my three favorite Substack subscriptions. The ones I love to see hit my inbox because I know they’re always going to contain some info I either want or need, or can put to good use at a later time. They are:

Food & Feelings: Alex Hill has mastered the art of getting personal and dropping simple recipes that are easy to create at home. Sounds simple, but I suspect it isn’t as easy as it looks. Whatever it takes, she’s figured out how to do it. Well. I’m well beyond egg freezing but was invested in her journey. I actually didn’t enjoy Paris one bit, but her solo travel series there made me think about giving it another shot. I also will never buy Ceasar dressing again, thanks to her super simple recipe, and the Crab Spaghetti is an easy hit in my house.

Jet Plane Crew: I don’t recall how I stumbled across Jen Ruiz, but her Substack is literally the best $ I’ve spent in a while. It’s literally non-stop opportunities for creators and writers and the likes. I’ve already cashed out on one of them. If she charged more, I’d pay it. It definitely gave me a return on my investment.

The Stack by Ghetto Gastro: Now, I’m a free subscriber to this one, as I believe GG has gotten quite a few coins in the last few years. The waffle iron from their collab with Crug as well as all three varieties of the waffle/pancake mix + the two syrup varieties currently reside in my cabinet, so I’ve done my part to support my fellow Bronxites. They get down with the recipes and the food culture stories here, though. Making Cacio e Pepe with White Miso Paste was not on my BINGO card, but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t one of the best dishes I made at home this year! You can also check them out on their YouTube channel as well.

There you have it. Tell a friend to tell a friend. And then tell that same friend to add Life-Sized Bites to their paid subscription list. To the three of you already there, I see and appreciate you. I’ll be sure to remember you in my acceptance speech when I hit big!

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

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I’ve done lots of traveling, these last 2 years specifically. Mostly domestic, but in 2024, I had an intentional 24 hour layover in Singapore en route to Thailand. To make a very long story short, it was one of those infamous times where I challeneged my body to be awake and in motion and activity for the better part of 36 hours.

And somewhere around hour 25, I found myself alone in the streets of super-safe Singapore; more specifically on the promenade of Marina Bay, a beautiful waterfront area downtown lined with high end boutiques, scenic boat rides, and restaurants. I was tired, and looking forward to making my way back to Changi Airport where I would find a place to sit and nod off until my next flight took off at 6am, defying my body’s need for adequate rest, per usual. It was around 11p, so I had a ways to go. And as I trudged down the promenade, shuffling about to stay awake, I walked past Le Noir Bar & Lounge, and into what for me is my most cherished travel moment. So far, anyway.

Lounge singers are often relegated to background noise as people eat, drink, and be merry, but he stood out to me; his neatly combed hair complete with a side part and racial ambiguity stopping me long enough for him to start singing. And when he did, it was one of my favorite songs: ”Yellow,” by Coldplay. People seemed oblivious. I was transfixed.

I felt happy. I felt sad. I was exhausted. I was aware of how far from home I was. Nonetheless, something about the way he sang the song made me feel deeply connected to that moment in the best way. I still watch the video almost 2 years later. My favorite souvenir, safely tucked away in my Google drive. I hope you love it as much as I do.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

My lower back issues, the ones that sent me in search of relief at the tip of an acupuncturist’s needle, also led to my latest dining obsession. It’s become a typical experience whenever I meet people and tell them about KayInTheBay and The As Told By Podcast; they start spilling restaurant recommendations, and sometimes they aren't that great if I’m being honest.

This one was a crispy, golden-fried, delicious gold mine.

You’ll miss Rose La Moon if you aren’t looking for it; even with its bright red door, I’d never seen it on any of my trips in or out of Berkeley on San Pablo Ave; my acupuncturist and I were talking about her global travels, and I mentioned the trip I’d taken to Thailand in 2024, remarking about how much I’d enjoyed the street food.

“Have you been to Rose La Moon??” she asked?

I hadn't. Hadn't even heard of it. But by the time my session ended and I made my way off the table, I knew exactly where I’d be headed next.

While the Bay certainly isn’t short on Thai eateries, Rose La Moon feels a bit different. Sure, there’s curry and of course Pad Thai, but there also are reflections of the street food I enjoyed so much during my time in both Bangkok and Chiang Mai, especially the fried chicken. But it was actually on a 48 hour food jaunt to Portland Oregon where I’d learn about the history of Hat Yai chicken at a restaurant cleverly named…you guessed it; Hat Yai (below: me, in Portland having Hat Yai chicken for the first time).

A city in the southern region of Thailand, Hat Yai is a triad of Thai, Chinese, and Malay culture; a large city whose growth was marked by the expansion of its railway systems, and further cemented by its religious sites, markets, and of course, the chicken that bears its name, its crispy crust and depth of flavor achieved through marinating, battering, and frying (sometimes via a two step process). As though that wasn't enough, its trademark is the sprinkling of crispy fried shallots on top. It really is as good as it sounds, and as much as I’d enjoyed finding and eating it in Portland for the first time, I was content to let it be a tasty memory in my past. Even in Thailand, while the fried chicken I walked through the streets eating was top-tier, it wasn't exactly the same.

So you can imagine my joy walking into Rose La Moon and seeing Hat Yai Chicken at the top of the menu.

A cozy space, there’s a kiosk right when you enter where you can peruse the offerings and place your order, indicating the spice level of your selections, choosing add-ons, and paying. There’s a section of the menu dedicated to “hawker food,” and I was mentally transported back to my magical visit to a hawker center (Lau Pa Sat) during my time in Singapore. Rose La Moon is a casual place with self-seating, the staff amazingly friendly and welcoming. I explored the glass case of colorful Thai desserts while waiting for my food, and on my 2nd visit, they let me sample the Mung Bean dessert; looking like a level 10 sugar trip, it actually was a level 3 or 4 and although admittedly not my fave, the coconut cake looked heavenly with its dreamy, white layers of cake and filling (I haven’t made it to that yet, but give me time).

My food was finally ready. It was time. They sat it down, a compostable sectioned plate reminiscent of a hybrid of those 80’s tv dinners and a bento box. White rice in one section, a steamed mound tucked into plastic wrap (you can opt for standard or sticky, and sticky is the only acceptable option, IMO), corn salad in another section, and below that, the main attraction….the Hat Yai chicken.

An order comes with two pieces; a leg and thigh, signifying one less request I had to make. It was all the things it should be; crispy, crunchy, flavorful; the fried shallots making a good situation even better. It’s summer, so the corn in the corn salad is freshly cut from the cob (you can tell by the conjoined sections) and tossed with red onion, cilantro, cherry tomatoes, what I believe is spinach, and a bright, tangy dressing I couldn’t see but could damn sure taste; the perfect acidic accompaniment to the savoriness of the chicken. The first time I went, I ordered a Thai tea to go with, but during my most recent trip, I opted for an Iced Butterfly Pea Tea with jasmine and lime; a beautiful deep purple color, lightly sweetened with honey. In my feeble attempt to not be such a creature of habit in subsequent visits, I’ve ordered the yellow curry and the Pad Thai to try as well, but my time here will always result in the Hat Yai chicken (although I’m committed to trying the Crispy Thai Crab Omelet and the Corn Fritters next time).

It’s literally my favorite restaurant experience this year. I am up to 3 visits in 6 weeks. Number 4 is not far off, and I suspect 5 and beyond will swiftly follow. I’m legit obsessed.

So there I sat at my table, unabashedly eating my chicken to the bone, relishing every bite, having been transported in a matter of an hour from muscle issues and acupuncture to memories of my travels stateside and abroad; Portland, Singapore, and Thailand, landing right there in Berkeley to reflect with oily fingers bearing fried shallot crumbs.

I hope I’m making Anthony Bourdain proud.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

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It was the summer of 2022, and I was just starting to sharpen my focus on food talent in the Bay in a serious manner. I’d been spending lots of time on IG getting to know who was who in the local chef world and started following Chef Ayesha of Round Midnight several months before, so when I saw that she was hosting a pop-up dinner, my interest had peaked enough via social media posts that I was curious to make my way out.

In hindsight, I realize that I’ve always respected Chef Ayesha’s knack for finding cool spaces to convene. In the July 2022 iteration as well as the two pop-ups to follow that I attended, I walked into spaces I didn’t know existed, to be served a menu not shared in advance. There’s a culinary trust, a taste level developed that allows for that; everyone doesn’t have it. She does. Seated at the singletons table my first time around with a name tag guiding me to my designated station, I met interesting people, including a woman who’d flown in that night just for the dinner, introducing me to the concept of “jet-set dining,” a pastime I’d go on to adopt in earnest. That night held both seasonality and tradition in sight, with its representation of collards, a pre-dinner snack of sweet potato chips, highlights like Duck Breast Salad, and dessert conveniently packed to go for those of us who couldn’t muster another show stopping bite.

We’d reconvene again in May 2023. Another space that was low-key and out the way. Another amazing menu. The Mushroom Toast stood out to me the most that time, as did the milk-washed cocktail (milk washing was quickly becoming a process my palate was falling in love with), and again, the consideration of a dessert that could be topped with a lid and transported to the house for later, although mine met its fate right there at the table. Another seat with a place setting bearing my name, and another night meeting fellow folks lured to an obscure place by the promise of good food. There’s that culinary trust again.

So a month ago as I waited in line to enter Fairyland on a weekday morning, my alarm went off reminding me that tickets for Chef Ayesha’s next pop-up were about to go on sale. I stopped what I was doing for all of 6 minutes to secure my spot. As a person making my own foray into the world of seated dinners, I know that selling these things out isn't easy. Hers sold out that same day. Watch and learn.

This latest version held some of the same experiences; my name hung with a single dried flower in front of a place setting, a milk-washed cocktail, a dessert to-go, and a space I never knew existed until now. Building familiarity is part of branding, I think. People coming out, not knowing the menu or place, but knowing the acumen of the chef, knowing the cocktails will be on point, and knowing you’ll be served by the chef’s friends and family turned staff for a night. Going solo to these kinds of things almost always guarantees meeting engaging new people, and now running into folks I know; tonight was no exception, including dining with one of Oakland’s most prominent voices. The menu danced between the refined and the regular; the Yellowtail starter dotted with collard green oil, and the elegant but seemingly effortless Corn Silk Soup (my fave of the night) punctuated with the simplicity of a good ol’ lobster roll done well (half of which is downstairs waiting on some off-hour later tonight when I decide it’s time to reintroduce myself).

On my short drive home, I reflected on the premise of fullness as a concept; a full moon just above me on 580, a full stomach, and a night full of community and fun conversation. And an hour or so later, I was cracking the lid on my to-go dessert of Rocky Road, a chocolate mousse-based offering with a fluffy white quenelle of marshmallow. It was 11:32p. Just ‘round midnight.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

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Anytime I walk into a restaurant with a wall of Jordans, I immediately know I'm in the right place. For the record, outside of this experience, that’s actually never happened to me before, so this time was the first and probably the only. The evening was off to a memorable start.

I was in town this past April for the Black Women In Food Summit, giving me an excuse to be in DC in Spring (as it’s rapidly becoming one of my favorite cities to visit). If you know me, you know I usually have an itinerary in place for restaurant visits weeks in advance of a trip, and Maketto was at the top of my list this time. I first learned about them back in 2024 during my interview with Keem Hughley where we spoke briefly about Foreign National, the development group fronted by Erik Bruner-Yang; I like to think of it as a “culinary tastemaker agency,” creating concepts consumers don’t realize they want until it’s presented to them (I didn't know I wanted to dine in front of a wall of J’s, so this is entirely possible), discovering it while researching for my conversation with Hughley as I believe they may have been involved in the development of Bronze, the Afro-futurism dining concept that unfortunately closed a while back. In my limited understanding, running a food business on DC’s famed H St. in recent years has meant battling the public perception of a neighborhood that’s weathered a storm or two, but I’ve been rewarded with a top-tier meal and a good time every time I’ve stopped by the H St. corridor. I also will eat under a bridge if the food is right though, so I wasn’t the least bit deterred by any past pretense, and was looking forward to this visit.

Maketto highlights Taiwanese and Cambodian cuisine, neither of which I’m particularly versed in, so I was going off taste and experience only with no cultural comparators. I’d made an early reservation, and the Lyft to H St. from my rental in Adams Morgan was a silent ride beyond the initial greeting, giving me time to take notice of the neighborhood, including the DoorDash Mafia, staked out on mopeds, on the ready for their next pick up orders.

Quiet and unassumingly situated in a nondescript building, Maketto is almost daring you to play yourself and not come in. I was seated next to the wall of Jordans and started with an Espresso martini. It was my 4th one during this trip, and probably my 6th that month. I ranked this one as my 2nd favorite and moved on to menu selections, trying not to go overboard since I was dining alone and fully intended to pop into Hill Prince afterwards, a popular bar right next door. While enjoying my cocktail and waiting on my first item to show up, a family came in for dinner with two kids under 10 in their party. When I was 10, Arthur Treachers signified a night of fine dining. I was almost jealous. Must be nice.

I started with the Spicy Cucumber Salad, with its bright, tangy, fresh, crisp, chunks of (pickled?) garlicky cucumber in a liquidy bowl of chili crisp sprinkled with sesame seeds. It was a light but punchy way to start a meal. I liked that despite the bit of heat this dish carried, the cucumbers maintained their coolness, and I stepped away from my table into the restroom momentarily to tend to the new souvenir of a faint permanent stain where chili crisp oil lived for 3 minutes on my gray shirt.

The Gruyere Dumplings were a surprise; I expected a good ol’ cheese pull out of these but instead, I got crispy pieces of dumpling with a ridiculously pillowy interior. I couldn't visually identify cheese in or on these, but the flavor of Gruyere was front and center. They were served on top of a portion of Chinese beef chili (is this a nod to the region?). Sprinkled with crispy onions and/or garlic and delicious, I thought these would be perfect to order if someone was stopping in for a tasty morsel as a buffer to having had too much alcohol. Creative and interesting. But I think that's Maketto’s hallmark.

Next up were the Crispy Chicken Wings, encased in a light, airy batter with a cumin glaze and a damn near powdered crumble of peanuts sprinkled across the top. After a cocktail, cucumbers, and dumplings, I needed some protein. Done like this? Mission accomplished.

My meal was on point, and the service was really pleasant. I’d initially made my reservation to dine on their back patio, and received a call earlier that day letting me know my table would be moved inside the dining room because they were hosting a Cambodian dance performance on the patio that night to celebrate the restaurant’s 10 year anniversary. So now I was getting an after-dinner show. By this point, I was bursting. With contentment and food.

The jasmine and flavor perfumed courtyard was a gorgeous space, appointed with trees and murals and lighting, and just beyond that their kitchen, behind sliding glass doors like a culinary atelier, the walls and shelves lined with equipment and ingredients, and staff buzzing in and out like bees in a hive. Someone brings me a chair and a glass of champagne. The dancers danced beautifully, their culture on full display. The sun set into a beautiful blue-ish background before going dark. And I was reminded of the goodness of the kind of life I live.

With Maketto being part of the InKind network, I was on drug dealer level spending this particular evening, and decided to splurge on one of their bright red $60 anniversary tote bags, which has gone on to become a farmers market staple for me back in the Bay. A reminder that after four trips to DC in 4 years, I love this city more than ever.

Congratulations to Maketto on their 10 year anniversary. If this is 10 years, here's to 10 more.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

May 29, 2014.

We were in the rental car, pulling off from the townhouse we’d called home for the last 4 years. Suburban Atlanta life was ending and amidst our boxes and suitcases were resentments, anger, and uncertainty. “Why the fcuk am I doing this??” That was all I could think to myself. It was a Thursday; my daughter had graduated from HS that previous Monday, and it’d been evident for months that not only did she have zero interest in moving to California, she was dreading it. We’d moved to Atlanta from the Bronx right as she was turning 7, so this was home for her.

She was angry with me. And as we drove out of the subdivision for the last time, both in tears, a song came on the radio.

“I know a place where the grass is always greener.” - California Girls by Katy Perry

If you know the song, you’re familiar with its idyllic depiction of the West Coast as a shangri-la of sorts, but this felt like anything but. My daughter was spending 2 weeks with family while I arrived in California, found an apartment, and got settled. Whatever that meant. It turned out to mean signing a lease, turning on cable, getting a mattress from a discount store on Foothill Blvd, eating plain M&Ms for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and crying. Lots of crying. I’d given away the peace of my life as I’d known it, and for what?

I’ve always been an adventurer of sorts; someone who’d go places and imagine what a life there would be like, so it was no wonder that after being introduced to the Bay by way of a brief dating situation, moving here was of interest to me (even with the dating situation no longer a factor). But imagining something and engaging in a series of plans to make it a reality are two absolutely different things. I set my mind to accomplish something, put in the work to do it, and made it happen.

But what happens if you actually get what you want? I hadn’t considered what would come after that.

With every purchase of something for my new apartment, I got significantly more depressed. It was further proof that I wasn't going home. Work was an escape, a place I could turn off feelings and focus on tasks (a behavior I’m actively trying to unlearn). I learned how to stuff my own emotions to deal with my daughter’s, her depression even more pronounced because she felt she’d been whisked off into choices she didn’t make or want. It would take years for our relationship to recover. Over the next 24-36 months, I moved from an adamant stance of “as soon as my lease ends I’m outta here,” to “give it 6 more months,” and then a year, and so on. Despite her acceptance to CSUEB, my daughter withdrew her admission and returned to Georgia for school for the next 18 months. I honestly was glad to be free of managing two people’s grief, but terrified at the same time. I had no family here and very little community. I’d be alone, for real.

“What if something happens to me? Who’d be looking for me here?”

No one. Ok, maybe my job. But no one else. It was my first time living alone. Ever. Motherhood at 20 years old means discovering adulthood with a simultaneous label and responsibility. Who was I when I wasn’t this person? I’d soon find out.

Discovering the anonymity of street running in a place where no one knows you was more freeing than I’d imagined. Festivals, markets, movie theaters, restaurants. It’s when I started to fall in love with the solace of my own company in public spaces, observing and feeling the energy of places. I laugh looking back at so many experiences I had alone in Oakland where today I’d know everyone there. It was like sitting within a life you’d soon have, but don’t have yet, and don’t know is coming. My loneliness assuaged by the sweet black kitten I adopted on a whim from Oakland Animal Shelter one random Saturday, I started venturing out further, and actually making an effort to be friendly.

By this time, my daughter was ready to give California another try; just in time, because that out of state tuition was kicking my ass. I was jumping for joy, right?? Kind of. I’d gotten used to living alone, eating out, having “spennanight company,” and such things. Another adjustment. We’d each lived separately, and coming back together was hard. It was 2017 by now, and the next three and a half years between us were tumultuous. She struck out for Georgia next in late 2020, and I was alone again.

And this time it was glorious.

I went from Hayward to my beautifully lofted townhouse in Oakland, jokingly dubbed “The Belly Townhouse” by the person I was dating at the time due to its super high ceilings and vast white wall space, similar to Keisha and Tommy’s house in the hood classic. I moved in January 2021, and KayInTheBay (a name I’d long suffered under during my time online dating) and The As Told By Podcast were born in 2022.

And when my daughter moved back home for an 18 month stint in 2023 to acclimate to motherhood with the kind of support only your mom can provide, she met a whole new version of me. Friends. People. Places. Things. Sneakers everywhere. She was looking for the mother she’d known.

Instead, she found Kahja. A version of me I owe to the Bay. Happy Caliversary to me.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

You know the saying, “2nd place is 1st place loser?”

Yeah, Four Kings just proved that that’s a damn lie.

Recently rated #2 on the SF Chronicle’s 2025 list of the Top 100 Restaurants in the Bay Area, with accolades from Eater SF, California’s Michelin Guide, and recognition as a Best New Restaurant semi-finalist for a 2025 James Beard Award, besides cooking, all Four Kings has been doing is winning. Cue Khaled.

But I can’t eat those awards. I thugged it out in the reservation system for a month before snagging a spot, and pulling up into an alley in San Francisco’s Chinatown where they’re located (a place I totally am not spending enough time), I was excited to finally be having my own experience.

I wasn’t solo this time, and was accompanied by a food industry friend; at 7:30 on a Wednesday evening, the place was buzzing with business with no sign of slowing down, reservation holders and walk-ups alike hovering near the front door waiting for their turn. We were seated at the counter side by side in front of walls covered in Polaroids of guests enjoying meals and good times (including a pic of my dining companion from a prior trip she’d made). The counter was raised enough where I couldn’t fully see into the inner workings of the kitchen (bummer!), but low enough that I could see the hanging rack of squabs poised to become some lucky person’s dinner. More on that in a minute.

What I love about the menu at Four Kings is that in the land of fusion, they are standing ten toes down on the culture of Cantonese cuisine. At first glance, the menu was full of things I’d been meaning to get around to eating but just hadn’t yet, and though my travels to Asia have been relegated to the Southeast (Singapore and Thailand so far), I immediately felt I was in for authenticity on a plate. I also loved the number of options starring vegetables as the main attraction. Shout out to the Roasted Peanuts and Smashed Cucumbers that are Four King’s version of the pre-meal freebie. I was blown away by the layered but simple flavors of both. If the freebies were this good, what would the menu hold? We dove in and covered a good amount of ground, with some things she’d had before and some things that were new to both of us. We ordered:

Squab Skewers: This was on the evening’s special menu; ribbons of squab skin fan-folded and skewered and either fried or broiled to crispy perfection (I’m not sure on the preparation). I’m on poultry skin this summer. Chicken, and now add squab to my hit list. Turkeys, beware.

Claypot Rice with Chinese Sausage and Bacon: I haven’t had claypot rice since Le Cheval left Oakland. This dish came topped with an egg yolk and thin rounds of Chinese sausage, with its slightly sweet meaty flavor along with pieces of bacon, with the hot rice and its expected crispy bottom below.

Fried Squab: Ths was new to me. Larger than a quail but definitely smaller than the ducks you typically see hanging in the windows of Chinese restaurants, it arrived to the table (head intact), a beautifully deep brown lacquered color (a relief, since in its hanging state it was redbone), the crisped feet dangling delightfully off the edge of the plate. It was served to medium doneness with a slightly pink inside (ok for squab) and quartered, so we could dig in easily. It also came with a serving of a Mala spice mix; our server recommended we sprinkle each bite with it. We complied. I’d never had this spice before, and it wasn’t until 10 seconds after eating it that I realized its unique, tingly, numbing quality. My best description for how eating it feels? Like the Eiffel Tower looks when it’s all lit up and glittering at night.

XO Escargot with Milkbread: I was window jumping this night for real! Snails had never previously touched these lips, but surprisingly, they almost reminded me of chicken livers a bit. The sauce underneath them was perfect for tearing off pieces of the soft milk bread and dipping. Which we did.

XO Chinese Cauliflower: A show stopper for me! I could’ve eaten this whole bowl solo and tried not to! I’d actually go back just for this. So flavorful and perfect.

Garlic Pea Shoots: Another really good vegetable dish; the garlic flavor was front and center, which is never a bad thing, and the touch of citrus zest on top was a nice compliment.

On our way out, and on account of my polite begging, our server even gave me some extra peanuts (they aren’t for sale), and I left happy.

So Five Kings, if you count that. Which I do.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

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Oakland is at a turning point, y’all.

If you’ve been here for any extended period of time (I’ll define that as more than the last 5 years), you know it’s been real in the field, as the saying goes. And if you love Oakland, you’ve probably spent lots of time in vehement defense of it, or wondering when it would get back to feeling like what I hear all my friends who are Town natives describe as “the old Oakland.”

With recent acclaim for its thriving food culture, Oakland Restaurant Week found many people, both natives and transplants, ready to re-engage and delve into experiencing the city’s culinary goodness, and just as I have in previous years, I took ORW25 as a personal challenge to dine at three restaurants I hadn’t been to before (a feat, given the amount of time I spend eating out).

Not only did I find great meals, but I found activism, using food to resist the narrative.

The last 10 days took me to neighborhoods I know well, and areas I needed GPS to navigate. It also gave me the opportunity to hear from community organizations, restaurateurs, and chefs passionate about preserving Oakland’s appetite for entrepreneurship and equity, understanding so many people are socio-economically removed from the experiences of dining that are commonplace for many of us.

Here are the top 5 things I learned (or remembered) this year during Oakland Restaurant Week:

It doesn’t have to be fancy to be good: I dined at The Peach, The Cook and Her Farmer, and Marzano (for brunch, lunch, and dinner respectively), and for just over $200 total, I had three really good meals as a first timer at each place (I’ll be sharing my thoughts on my favorite of the trio in a separate post).

Content usually doesn’t tell a robust story: Can it put butts in seats? Sure. But many times, chefs feel like the story of their craft gets left on the cutting room floor in service to glossier narratives and bite-sized recaps. A restaurant usually represents years of work it took a chef to get to that point. They want to wow you with their talent. Take a little extra time and care with their story.

People are behind the scenes working hard for food access and equity in Oakland: Shout out to Community Kitchens and their week-long summit that ran concurrently with ORW25. I learned so much about all of these amazing organizations and programs (Saba Grocers, Dig Deep Farms, CalAIM MTMs) ensuring access across socio-economic and health needs!

Consider making restaurants third spaces more often: Book clubs, co-working sessions, bridal showers….restaurants want to do more than just feed you. They want to be community spaces that bring people together.

We’re all doing our part in small ways: It may seem like things happen in silos, but all across the city, Oaklanders are pushing the needle toward restoring the feeling. There’s a palpable energy of change on the horizon, and we’re all excited to see what’s to come.

I expect nothing less from the #1 food city in the country.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

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Charleston and North Charleston. Not the north part of Charleston, but NORTH Charleston, the standalone city. I didn’t realize this distinction until this past week; I was visiting for my 2nd time in two years to partake in the Charleston Wine and Food Festival, the 5 day long citywide foray into culinary bliss that takes place annually in March. I was aware of King BBQ even before my first time coming to town for the festival, but for some reason I didn’t go then (despite having been around the corner at fellow North Charleston business Daddy’s Girls Bakery, which IMO is home of the Charleston Chewie!).

It was a mistake I wouldn’t be making twice.

This time I had an itinerary, and King BBQ was firmly on it; I’d made a reservation at their sister restaurant (Jackrabbit Filly) as well, but on account of heavy rain and wind on the day I was slated to go I canceled it, opting instead to pop into King for a late lunch once the weather died down.

For me, King’s allure is in the fact that its casualness could almost conceal its excellence. When I conjure up thoughts of the South and BBQ, I don't necessarily come up with a Chinese-American-Southern concept. But that’s exactly what it is. And the backdrop of the neighborhood added to it for me in the best way. I’m good on any MLK (or MLK-esque) Boulevard.

Reservations aren’t accepted here, and the vibe is come as you are; I’m not sure how they managed to pull off the confluence of these distinct cultures (Chinese & Southern) down to the decor, but they’d go on to do it again with the menu. Very well, might I add. The format is counter ordering from a vinyl menu before seating yourself; luckily, it was a slow period in the day so I had time to stand there and make decisions, fighting myself to not order the whole menu (it was hard!). I made my selections, including a mid-day cocktail (their version of an Espresso Martini) and headed to my seat to wait for my food so I could finally quell my curiosity about if it’d be as good as I thought.

You already know.

As a native New Yorker, I recognized touches of the Chinese food experience I grew up loving, unable to find replicated in any of the cities I've frequented or lived in since. Once I realized that the origins of this restaurant stemmed from a native of Flushing NY, this told me everything I needed to know for my bar of anticipation to go way high. IYKYK. I’m a girl from the Bronx, but the Flushing area of Queens is a food mecca like no other. Looking back, I regret the fact that in 27 years living in NY, I’ve actually never been. Sometimes you take the long way home though. And it wouldn’t be the last time during this trip that I’d be pleasantly surprised at the level of globally influenced food culture there is to be had in Charleston.

I ordered:

Chinese BBQ Egg Rolls - that bubbly, crackly, fried wrapper gave way to tender BBQ meat, and although there was cabbage and carrots in there as well, do not be fooled….the meat is the star of this dish, perfectly complimented by the side of hot mustard bbq sauce it came with. At $8 for 2, I’d never come here and not get this!

Chinese BBQ Spare Ribs - it’s the South. I’m getting ribs. They were perfectly done with that slight sweetness we know and love this style of cooking for. Can’t go wrong with these.

Spicy Dan Dan Noodles - I wanted to try a couple of sides, and these normally come tossed in a spicy sauce; I ordered my sauce on the side and poured it over since I wasn't sure of the spice level, but it was perfectly fine. I’d have these tossed in the sauce next time for sure. With extra. YOLO.

Chili Crisp Corn Pudding - Look….I knew to expect good things here but damn. This is an early front runner for my top 5 restaurant dishes of 2025! I loved the creativeness of it; the contrast of the sour cream with the tangy chili crisp and the soft mealiness of the corn pudding itself. It was the perfect embodiment of exactly what this place is all about.

All hail the King.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

With the rainy season upon us here in the Bay, it’s easy to waylay the desire to take an impromptu stroll into some of the restaurants that’ve recently opened in Oakland, but with my hunger and curiosity peaked on a random Thursday evening, I found my way into Sirene (pronounced “suh-ren,” per one of my foodie friends, and translated to “mermaid” in French), happy at having been able to snag a same day reservation.

Whenever I walk into a dining experience and there’s exposed brick and a wood-fired oven, I instantly feel at peace, and this time was no exception as I settled into my little table with a full view of the space. Inside was dimly lit, and framed, handwritten notes of odd little messages adorned the walls; because I’d made an early reservation, I could see across the room all the way through to the bar area in the rear. The ambiance felt warm, brown, and tavern-esque. Let the Rosé flow.

Sirene’s focus rests squarely on two things: seafood and fried chicken, but not in the way you might imagine. Their menu is well suited for adventurous diners with its inclusion of sea urchin (both red and purple), shellfish and leek terrine, duck and lobster mortadella, and abalone (which I’ve actually never had and didn’t try during this meal either). Because of what I believe is a burgeoning seafood allergy, I decided to leave the adventure of testing that theory to another time and place, and instead opted to start with a dumpling appetizer featuring lamb and uni. It was portioned like an amuse bouche (which was fine with me), and was a pillowy, soft parcel served in a shallow dish of savory broth, filled with a tender, braised lamb that gave the mouthfeel and richness of oxtail.

Ok, so now onto the fried chicken, interestingly subtitled “choose your own adventure.” As a lover of both fried chicken and adventure, I was excited to see what this was all about.

While not a traditional Southern fried chicken (think more of a light, airy, battered crust), the tower-style presentation impressed me, and it was served piping hot and juicy on the top level. Choosing your own adventure in this case meant determining how many pieces of chicken you wanted to indulge in (I went with two; a leg and thigh), and how many of the side items you wanted to accompany it; you can go a la carte, or you can order “All Them Fixin’s” (that is literally how it’s named on the menu, which made me laugh); of course, I made the only acceptable choice and ordered them all! My thoughts on each were:

Scallion Biscuit - layers on layers on layers of fluffiness, with a four-sided crust that made pulling it apart as much fun as eating it.

Mashed Potatoes - these potatoes were clearly riced within an inch of their lives because they were some of the smoothest mashed potatoes I’ve had…not a chunk to be found. Just creamy, traditional goodness.

Braised Collard Greens - Loved the visible slices of garlic throughout, as well as the larger pieces of greens (versus a chiffonade).

Octopus Kimchi Sauce - I was totally unsure as to what to expect here! Be ready to stretch your palate a bit for this salty, briny taste! I didn’t know at first how I‘d purpose this in the meal, but once I added some to my forkful of collards, it immediately reminded me of the flavor profile of those jarred pickled peppers that are always served with greens that add a vinegary balance.

Mushroom Madeira Jus - full of big pieces of a variety of different mushrooms, the roasted flavor really came through here, as did the flavor of the wine. Dip your chicken in this one for sure.

Andouille Gravy - THIS IS NOT TO BE MISSED, do you hear me?? Yes, I am shouting at you. There is nothing I wouldn’t pour this all over. I added some on top of my mashed potatoes, put a little bit on my chicken, but my favorite home for it was on that Scallion Biscuit….sopping and mopping it up, ok??

I ended my meal with their Chocolate Cake which was served with Buttermilk Ice Cream (and was very similar to a dessert I've had at Burdell, but I’m definitely not complaining!). This is what cakes all over dream of growing up to be; rich and chocolatey. Hell, it's what I wanna grow up to be too!

I’d love to come back here and try the mussels and the abalone, and they also operate as a cafe during the early part of the day, with a full menu of coffee, tea, and pastries, so I feel like I don’t have a full opinion to express before I go back for a daytime experience, but if i’m just going by the dinner service, so far, so good.

And if biscuits and andouille gravy are somewhere on that cafe menu, let’s just say I’ll suddenly be spending a lot more time on Grand Ave.

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.

Soooo....I finally made it to Tatiana. What'd I think? A few things:

I stand behind my thought that every dining experience doesn't have to offer value. Tatiana certainly isn't the most expensive, but it also isn't inexpensive for the cuisine either. For folks who tend to compare how the same things can be prepared for less $$, be warned this may not be your spot.

The space is clean and modern; classy enough to warrant its Lincoln Center location, but urban enough to make sure you know the origins of which it was born.

I went with one of my NYC food homies, and we made our way through the menu, exploring small plates that were perfect for sharing (good selections to choose from!), as well as an entree. I thought the cocktail menu leaned toward a sweeter profile (fine by me as I like a sweet cocktail), and we had a sparkling wine that was really good as well!

Standouts for me were the Piri Piri Mango Salad with its combo of sweet/tartness and gorgeous plating, and the Egusi Dumplings; they came with a tomato-based sauce that has me thinking I may actually like the flavor of red palm oil after all! We had:

🍾Extra Brut Albariño, Carbonite, Gomes Vineyard (liked this and prolly will find me a bottle)

🍸POG Nutcracker

🔸️Egusi Dumplings

🔸️Mango Piri Piri Salad

🔸️Hamachi Escovitch (I thought the pickling here was more sweet than vinegary, but the Hamachi was very buttery and delicious!)

🔸️Oxtail & Crab Rangoon

🔸️Brown Stew Branzino (not traditional brown stew gravy, but I was happy to see Branzino served other than with lemon, herbs, and a wine sauce!). This also came with a side of rice and peas that had such a clean flavor....I could've had another dish of just that!

So yes, I enjoyed my meal and experience at @tatianabychefkwame. But what I enjoyed most is what I feel is the story of this restaurant. That in a city that attracts culinary talent from all over the world, there's a hometown native in the mix bringing Afro-Caribbean food into the fine dining conversation at a high level. And making folks scramble for a seat to get some!

Bronx folks out here being great. But aren't we always?❤

Kahja Elliott is a digital creator, food enthusiast/traveler, and podcaster in Oakland, CA.