why I love Oakland: #102

I don't really know how many reasons I have to love Oakland, I just thought 102 sounded like a good number.

While looking for a locale for our holiday party, a coworker recommended Cafe Van Kleef, on Telegraph just before it hits Broadway near 17th near the boarded up yet beautiful Fox Theater. Cafe Van Kleef is owned and operated by Peter Van Kleef, a self-proclaimed artist and contractor. It initially opened as an art gallery, then cafe, then bar. Pete claims its still got the best coffee in town.

On a drizzly Monday after work, we walk in and take a seat at the bar. The shelves are filled with all sorts of knick-knacks. There's a wooden carved Scottish shield ala Goodwill, a pair of old boxing gloves, an oscar he says his uncle won way on the very top shelf, and a large stone Jesus Christ laying on a slab of stone and decored with a garland of red roses. Somehow, he seems to fit right in above the bottles of premium liquor. There's a sculpture that my coworker calls the "death ray" as well as other fine works on the wall. The mural opposite the bar was just a generic restaurant mural until various artists added James Brown, Gertrude Stein, Mayor Jerry Brown, Picasso and the Dhali Lama to the entourage.

There's only one other person there, Bill, who is instructing Pete on the fine art of making hot buttered rum. Two teaspoons of a mixture from Trader Vic's, hot water, then an ounce of rum. We allow ourselves to be the guinea pigs. Simply delicious!

Pete finds that he is often caught up in between his artist and contractor self. The artist tells him, "sure, why not? why can't we do this?" while the contractor in him says, "there's no money, only so many resources." As we sip the sweet and warm rum, he tells us of his different lives: a rock club proprietor in Rodeo who booked Eddie Money and Huey Lewis before the News, as a truck driver, contractor, etc. He hopes to bring some rocking folks into the narrow venue. A stage in the back has an upright piano and drum set ready.

Pete tells us the story of how he acquired Jesus Christ. As he talks the voices of Casterati play over the loudspeakers the high pitched heavenly voices of old men. He found it underneath the house of an acquaintance he was helping move. The acquaintance didn't have the most reputable of reputations thus kept the statue under the house. He had gotten it from another slightly irreputable friend who had the job of tearing down an old church but his Christian guilt didn't allow him to crush Jesus into rubble. Pete thus acquires it as "payment" for the move with the promise of never selling it. He said there were times he was so broke that he was about to sell it, then decided not to. Thus, a mirror reflects Jesus' rose coifed face back to the stool patrons. Bill says, somehow, it seems to work there.

Cafe Van Kleef made it into the March 2002 Sunset issue as one of the best places in Oakland, back when it was an art gallery. By the time it hit the press, they were closed. They reopened just 2 weeks ago. They hope to add sandwiches on the menu, for now you can get a hot buttered rum and slices of pizza. Pavoratti is now singing. I think that maybe if I ever need a venue for a poetry reading, that this might be the place to do it.

It's the kind of neighborhood bar that you wouldn't mind hanging out in just to see who comes by. He said Sean Penn did a private party there once. As new people stroll in, he asks, "Hot buttered rum?" He's got to practice. Figures out that the whiskey glasses crack under heat. The name sounds good on a cold afternoon, so no one protests as he sets up 5 coffee mugs. Soon the row of stools is full.

As he asks us about our second round, I'm perplexed. I don't drink much, so I don't know what to order. Pete mentions he does a great gin and tonic, and so I take him on his word. He slides the clear liquid to me and waits for my first sip. He wants to see my reaction, his word and pride are on the line. And he's right! It's very good! Just enough lime to temper the alcohol, making it easy to sip.

There are two sayings around here, "We're not that kind of place" and "We're THAT kind of place."

If you're looking for a place to look at art, listen to stories, sip hot buttered rum on chilly evenings, then Cafe Van Kleef is THAT kind of place!