Eating Real in the East Bay

I wanted to find out about bees and chickens — he wanted to eat.

“Mom," my son pleaded as we neared Jack London Square for the third annual Eat Real Festival, "the lines are gonna get insane, so let’s at least hit up a few food trucks right away. Plus, that urban homesteading stuff isn’t really my thing.” 

This significant celebration of good eating took place the weekend of September 23-25. A kind of antidote to industrial food, the Oakland event and, for the first time this year, its sister festival in Los Angeles are a product of social venture business Eat Real.

“Eat Real’s mission,” according to its website, “is to help revitalize regional food systems, build public awareness of and respect for the craft of making good food and to encourage the growth of American food entrepreneurs.”

Over 60 local food trucks, carts and stands offered everything from curry to Cuban sandwiches. The urban homesteading contingent showcased hen houses, goats and heirloom squash, and some 30 craft food producers sold pickles, beef jerky, pasta and other goodies in the newly constructed Jack London Market.

Entrance and events were free, and all street food cost $5 or less and incorporated sustainably produced, local ingredients.

This year Matthew and I smartened up and got there early on Saturday, starting things off with a Sweet Vanilla from Kara’s Cupcakes, which was near the entrance. Next, a veggie corn dog from Tante’s, and then a little bowl of creamy mac and cheese from Homeroom.

We then veered off into the urban homesteading section for some traditional wisdom, stopping at Holland Hen Houses to inspect upscale, cottage-style chicken homes — complete with clucking occupants.

Owner Mario Klip talked encouragingly about chickens. “They don’t need to be brushed or walked,” he said, “and like to have a little space to run around and scratch.”

Klip disputed the notion that raising backyard chickens is a smelly operation. “If you take a chicken and smell it, they smell sweet,” he said, adding that their home won’t smell bad unless you don’t clean it regularly.

Matthew was the voice of reason. “Something tells me we should just keep buying eggs,” he said, as we moved on.

The The Alameda County Beekeepers Association was there, and Avalon Lavender’s Andrew G. Miller was fielding questions with the help of an active 5-frame observation hive.

“This is the size of a new colony,” he said, pointing out that a normal colony has 20 frames.

When I asked if a hive in a neighbor’s yard would result in an unmanageable number of bees in mine, Miller was ready.

“You have bees in your yard now?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “They like the citrus trees.”

“If you have bees in your yard now you’re going to have bees in your yard then,” he explained. “The thing that increases the number of bees in your yard is the number of flowers you have.”

I admitted to the fear of being stung by extra bees.

“When honeybees sting you, they die, so they have every reason not to sting you,” Miller said, adding that bees making a neighborly visit would be much more interested in the citrus trees than me — and that the trees would love it.

I hightailed it over to the Kraut-a-Thon given by Happy Girl Kitchen and Farmhouse Culture, catching a glimpse of Bay Area band Sans Pablo serving up serious funk on the main stage, and Matthew went to the Blue Chair Fruit and Starter Bakery jam and croissant pairing, and then got himself a tofu banh mi at Little Green Cyclo.

Before reconnecting, I grabbed a luxurious little pork belly sandwich from Good Foods Catering and spent a little time with a gathering crowd at The Whole Beast, where cowboy hat-adorned he-men were pulling whole roasted lambs off large spits.

Matthew soon came running with goat milk ice cream from Laloo’s for himself and a Fatface bacon & egg popsicle for me. He kept eyeing the popsicle as I ate it, finally pointing to a speck, asking, “Is that a chunk of bacon?” Pescatarian Matthew misses bacon, but seems to enjoy it vicariously.

The next few hours were spent wandering around nibbling various eats and eyeballing demos and workshops.

Presenting sponsor Whole Foods (here’s a complete sponsor list) offered what must have been one of the most unusual noshes at the event: meat whip. This $4 mortadella mousse served in a cone with greens, crostini and pistachios gave their $2 yellowtail ceviche from last year a run for its money in terms of memorability and bang for the buck.

Luckily, there was a free Hydration Station for water bottles in the vicinity of the salty meat whip.

Now, this festival is understandably popular, but by late Saturday afternoon I was flashing back to the 9th Avenue International Food Festival in Manhattan — my standard for how many people can walk up or down the same street at the same time with food and drink and survive.

Though community fair-type contests for pickles, jams and homebrews were on the horizon, we were tired, full and bespotted with sauces — some from things we didn’t remember eating — and called it a day.

Susan Coss, director of Eat Real, talked a bit about the organization and how things work. “We’re set up as a for-profit entity,” she explained. “We have been lucky in the last two years to have generated a little bit of a profit that does get poured immediately back into the festival so that we can maintain a skeletal staff working on sponsorship and partnership development throughout the year.”

Vendors pay to participate. “If you’re a [street food] vendor who’s going to participate for three days,” said Coss, “the booth fee is $275, and then we do a revenue share on top of that,” which she added “has been about 10%.”

According to Coss, charging minimal up-front costs allows Eat Real to negotiate specific requirements. Vendors must use clean meat — meaning antibiotic and hormone-free, charge no more than $5 per dish, and incorporate two local, sustainable main ingredients.

“We worked out distribution deals with Del Monte Meat Company, said Coss, “and special pricing for our vendors, and we also worked with a local produce distributor, Thumbs Up.”

“We work very hard to make it a special and unique event,” she said.