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Farewell to Oscar's
Oct. 27th, 2015 10:57 pmI ate at Oscar's for the last time on Columbus DayIndigenous People's Day, two and a half weeks ago. We'd known Oscar's was going for a while, since there were big newspaper articles on the topic five months ago. At the time "Oscar" (not his real name) said that they'd be there through the summer, and some of their staff said four months. It made four and a half.
(I feel like I'm speaking about someone who has just expired from a fatal disease, but managed to hang in longer than the doctors expected.)
My history with Oscar's begins in 1990. I think. Who can really remember back that long? I know I went there for the first time after an OCF meeting on Berkeley campus. Or maybe the CSUA. It was definitely one of the computer clubs. One of the old-timers said that it was a tradition to trek down to Oscar's after the meeting, and so many of us did. I suspect I ate a burger and fries.
Over the years, I'd sometimes eat at Oscar's with regularity, such as when I lived on nearby University and when I worked at Skotos' northside office. And sometimes I'm sure I went months, perhaps even a year, without visiting. In recent years, I'd been visiting there regularly again. Probably every couple of weeks. When I heard of its impending demise, I started eating there once a week, like clockwork, and maybe a bit more. So I probably managed 15-20 final visits.
However even before the announcement of the closure, I'd been eating at Oscar's enough that the staff had gotten to know me. Both of the regular grillers knew my order: chicken sandwich and fries. One of them often threw the chicken on the grill even before I got in the door. (Sometimes I'd be riding by on the way to the Ohlone Greenway and places northward, and worry that he'd throw a chicken on the grill because he saw me at the stoplight.) Their Friday-night griller knew Kimberly too, and asked after her when I'd sometimes show up sans wife to bring food home to her, because she wasn't up to going out.
As far as I can tell, Oscar (not his real name) shut down Oscar's because he was tired of running his own business. And I can certainly understand that feeling. He didn't really seem to be a people person, as witnessed by his refusal to give newspaper reporters his name. (He just acknowledged that he was the owner and said that Oscar was his father.) So, even absent the stress of running a business, I can see why you wouldn't want to keep running a cash register day in and out.
Why will I miss Oscar's? Well, it was a warm, fuzzy piece of nostalgia that was one of the few businesses that I care about to last out my tenure in Berkeley. (The other one off the top of my head is Moe's.) But I also liked their food. They cut their chicken breasts just right: very thin, unlike the overly thick and inevitably dry chicken breasts that most burger joints serve. Their fries were also cut thin and though they were greasy it was a rather thin veneer. Something about them made them my Platonic ideal of fries and no one else cooks them that way. Finally, their condiments — a mix of thinly cut lettuce and mayo with a thick cut of onion on top — was equally delicious. At first I didn't eat the onion, but I came to enjoy it over the years. Heck, I even liked their ketchup, which was just a little sweeter than the usual.
The closest we have left to Oscar's is The Smokehouse. They're tasty; I go there on occasion. But they're not the same. Their food is all greasier and sloppier, where Oscar's was so clean and simple it could convince you it was healthy. (The thin veneer of grease on the fries suggests otherwise.)
A week and a half ago, on Berkeley's fourth Sunday Streets, I walked by Oscar's to make sure they still had their hours posted, and they did. So I went back for Monday lunch ... and they were gone. Their hours had been taken down in the wee morning hours and the parking lot was blocked off. Apparently, they'd finally gotten their delayed construction permit that morning.
Farewell good burger place. Go gentle into that good night, because there's no other choice at this point. I wish the vegan fast food restaurant that's to appear in your place no success at all.
(Rage, Rage against the dying of the bite.)
(I feel like I'm speaking about someone who has just expired from a fatal disease, but managed to hang in longer than the doctors expected.)
My history with Oscar's begins in 1990. I think. Who can really remember back that long? I know I went there for the first time after an OCF meeting on Berkeley campus. Or maybe the CSUA. It was definitely one of the computer clubs. One of the old-timers said that it was a tradition to trek down to Oscar's after the meeting, and so many of us did. I suspect I ate a burger and fries.
Over the years, I'd sometimes eat at Oscar's with regularity, such as when I lived on nearby University and when I worked at Skotos' northside office. And sometimes I'm sure I went months, perhaps even a year, without visiting. In recent years, I'd been visiting there regularly again. Probably every couple of weeks. When I heard of its impending demise, I started eating there once a week, like clockwork, and maybe a bit more. So I probably managed 15-20 final visits.
However even before the announcement of the closure, I'd been eating at Oscar's enough that the staff had gotten to know me. Both of the regular grillers knew my order: chicken sandwich and fries. One of them often threw the chicken on the grill even before I got in the door. (Sometimes I'd be riding by on the way to the Ohlone Greenway and places northward, and worry that he'd throw a chicken on the grill because he saw me at the stoplight.) Their Friday-night griller knew Kimberly too, and asked after her when I'd sometimes show up sans wife to bring food home to her, because she wasn't up to going out.
As far as I can tell, Oscar (not his real name) shut down Oscar's because he was tired of running his own business. And I can certainly understand that feeling. He didn't really seem to be a people person, as witnessed by his refusal to give newspaper reporters his name. (He just acknowledged that he was the owner and said that Oscar was his father.) So, even absent the stress of running a business, I can see why you wouldn't want to keep running a cash register day in and out.
Why will I miss Oscar's? Well, it was a warm, fuzzy piece of nostalgia that was one of the few businesses that I care about to last out my tenure in Berkeley. (The other one off the top of my head is Moe's.) But I also liked their food. They cut their chicken breasts just right: very thin, unlike the overly thick and inevitably dry chicken breasts that most burger joints serve. Their fries were also cut thin and though they were greasy it was a rather thin veneer. Something about them made them my Platonic ideal of fries and no one else cooks them that way. Finally, their condiments — a mix of thinly cut lettuce and mayo with a thick cut of onion on top — was equally delicious. At first I didn't eat the onion, but I came to enjoy it over the years. Heck, I even liked their ketchup, which was just a little sweeter than the usual.
The closest we have left to Oscar's is The Smokehouse. They're tasty; I go there on occasion. But they're not the same. Their food is all greasier and sloppier, where Oscar's was so clean and simple it could convince you it was healthy. (The thin veneer of grease on the fries suggests otherwise.)
A week and a half ago, on Berkeley's fourth Sunday Streets, I walked by Oscar's to make sure they still had their hours posted, and they did. So I went back for Monday lunch ... and they were gone. Their hours had been taken down in the wee morning hours and the parking lot was blocked off. Apparently, they'd finally gotten their delayed construction permit that morning.
Farewell good burger place. Go gentle into that good night, because there's no other choice at this point. I wish the vegan fast food restaurant that's to appear in your place no success at all.
(Rage, Rage against the dying of the bite.)