“tonight, we had the most beautifully steamed fish – some sort of sea fish, a grouper or something – beeeautifully done.  the fish was a fat and chunky fish but every inch of it was cooked just right – nothing hard, nothing raw, everything was like…feathery.  haven’t had this sort of perfection in years.  and the oil soy sauce thing was not too salty either.  then there was roasted pigeon, and then a clay pot with crab and vermicelli, and then your favorite type of chicken (yellow skin, cooked in broth) served in this wooden barrel thing with the broth, and this cantonese soup cooked the right way (over a slow fire in a specially-shaped pot) - winter melon and a type of dried cuttlefish — and then there were fireworks on tv…right over our table.”

“we had a long dinner – ate at this elaborate southeast asian resto – and then i spent a long time picking dvds.”

“you shoulda come along last night
it’s like my kinda restaurant
beautiful presentation
menus are hand written and illustrated – each one is different
like a book
lots of small dishes
we had this tea
taiwanese ppl opened it – there’s a distinct design aesthetic in the ambience and the food styling
pickled daikon cut into fan-slices, stacked on a tower – looks like a tree trunk
tofu pudding
not good  - worse than bad panna cotta”

So your girlfriend tells you you have to go to some tiny Thai restaurant in East Oakland – you know…over there…in real Oakland (well, minus the whole Mills college thing) – and you’ll have to – get this – call them to be let in…”for security reasons.” A real hole in the wall, right?

Wrong!

A delightfully charming, deliciously cheap, tolerably tasty mom-and-pop Thai joint with friendly service, kitschy decor and loyal neighborhoodies! Score!

It’s true you have to knock or call to get in the place, but while you wait for the husband to addle on over to unlock the door for you (actually, he poked his head out while we were taking pictures outside and invited us in with a toothy smile), you can admire the curious, almost gaudy island paradise facade jutting out of the busy Oakland street like some sort of out-of-place food oasis.

The dining room is fronted by a hallway brimming with foliage and a miniature water fountain, and is itself decked out in “authentic” Thai decor sprinkled with some wood ducks, plastic flowers, paintings of white people, and a turn-of-the-century phone.

We sat our butts down in a cozy booth, got comfortable, and immediately realized we didn’t have enough cash in a cash only place. Damn.

After careful budgeting and the help of a $7.55 specials and $2.50 “barbarian soup,” we ordered anyway. She got the panang curry custom-made with mahi mahi (instead of salmon, as posted on their chalkboard) with her soup; I got the stuffed calamari with peanut curry. We both made sure to try the sticky rice, which turned out to be pretty good (though I have to say – I still don’t really “get” sticky rice – my idea of good sticky rice is still the Japanese kind).

Sticky, sticky rice!

The soup was pungent, filled to the brim with herbs, of which lemongrass was dominant, and moderately spicy – pretty standard Thai, I think. The tofu was…I dunno…hogged by Tofu Monster over there.

First came the mahi mahi, which was actually rather hard/chewy and not that fresh. This was unfortunate, especially since the panang curry was quite good. The peanut sauce on the calamari was also quite good. Both were homey and thick, especially the peanut, and neither displayed a fear of oil, which I appreciated in this context.

The calamari was stuffed with some assortment of somewhat boring vegetables and topped with vermicelli smothered in the peanut sauce. As expected, the vermicelli took the cake and the calamari was a loser – again somewhat chewy.

Perhaps weirdest of all in the meal was the seemingly Thai iced tea flavored water. Depending on how paranoid you are, this may be because they actually put Thai iced tea flavoring in the water, or because they simply didn’t wash the glasses properly, or perhaps because they melted ice cubes from leftover Thai iced tea and served it to us awesome-style…

Most importantly, I managed to get my little Hippo back on my 550cc motorcycle at night all the way back home, safe in fake Oakland, where we’re now figuring out how next to contribute to driving black people out of their neighborhoods.

All in all, that was definitely my idea of a nice evening out.

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A lush tropical garden. Sandalwood-lined walls. Deep plush booth seats. Dim dusty lighting. Jazz of the 1960s.

Elephant must be taking me on a date.

Well, he is one special pachyderm, or I wouldn’t be dating one out of my own genus.

Only that this romantic locale also has special security measures, wooden block paintings of Mexican farmers, a huge three-dimensional kite of a bat (yes, a black bat with fangs), and pipa renditions of old Chinese songs.

This is Old Weang Ping Village, a Thai restaurant located in a stretch of sketchy East Oakland. Just a stone’s throw (and a hop) from Mills College, between dumpy-looking bungalow houses and fried fish burger joints, Old Weang Ping is an old house converted into a truly memorable locale. We found ourselves fascinated in the greenery-draped house: indeed, the Yelpers were correct about the super-lush tropical plants and Thai-styled wooden signs in front. But lo, there were figures looming around on the streets, so we were eager to escape to Phuket, or Bangkok, or just a world away from East Oakland.

After ringing the bell, the kindly owner, a mustachioed Thai gentleman, welcomed us into the restaurant. We stepped into an awesome kitsch world of random figurines, flyers for bamboo picket fences, fake flowers and real palm trees. The main dining room continued this musky atmosphere, with Thai Buddhist images and idols along with wilted plastic flowers, rainbow-colored wind chimes, dusty shelves and greasy, plastic-wrapped tables. The daily specials, written in pastel chalk, hang alongside an old phone nearby encased in a Thai-structured shrine.

Barbarian soup. What a name for my first course! It was a clear soup brewed in galangal, lemongrass, and chilies, topped with julienned bamboo shoots, mushrooms, and parsley. The mini fried-tofu cubes were tantalizing. The taste was sour, spicy, sweet: just as I expect a Thai-styled soup would be without being Tom Yum. As much as I enjoyed the tofu cubes (I can never have enough tofu cubes) and the spicy broth, this soup didn’t feel special to me. I had to agree with its eponymous attribution, as it was a kind of soup that someone in haste could whip up without need for extreme attention and care. Perhaps the chefs are going for home-style cooking, which is another type of experience in itself. I was curious to see what came next.

I had Mahi-Mahi served in a Penang-style curry with various vegetables. The curry is quite fabulous: saucy and not watery, it had the taste of real coconut milk and carried a nutty, sweet flavor. The curry was more oily than usual, and I took that as a positive trait: someone cooked it the way it would be done on the streets, or at home. Unfortunately, the fish was ostensibly pre-frozen, and did not taste fresh at all.

Mahi Mahi Penang curry

;

Elephant’s stuffed calamari dish was interesting. What caught my eye first was the abundance of bean thread vermicelli that was mixed with the chunky curry on top of the stuffed calamari. It had the color of Ants on a Tree vermicelli, which was exciting to me. (Besides being a tofu monster, I am also a great appreciator of noodles of all kinds. You shall see.) As I took a bite, I found the vermicelli very flavorful – the curry was very strong, like peanut butter – but the noodles were a bit overcooked. No matter, as they were great with the sticky rice.

We were stuffed in the end. The sticky rice did us in, as did the very strong peanut curry (which reminded me of Lam Toro’s West African dish). The Mamma Chef came out and was pleasantly surprised that we have cleared our plates. “Do you guys have enough food?” she asked. “Yes, we are very full! Thank you,” I said, rubbing my tummy.

Old Weang Ping Village – we are indeed transported into another world.

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Old Weang Ping Thai Village
6217 MacArthur Blvd.
Oakland, CA 94605
(510) 430-8771
Hours: Tue-Sun 5:00 p.m.-9:00 p.m.