Remember the days when you could willy nilly jump in your car and go over to the East Bay—because it was there? And most importantly the IKEA where you could wander aimlessly amongst the throngs, not really looking for anything since your apartment is small and already full of crap you bought and spent endless hours putting together until you come across something with a name you can’t pronounce and just decide in that instant you know just the place for it and it is only $40 while your friend Ms. O gives you that side eye of what are you going to do with that and while silently thinking, oh great it is going to take up room in the car and she is already buying a lot of stuff, and well, it is her car after all, but you get it anyway and offer to get her a bag of frozen meatballs which assuages her somewhat while she still continues to roll her eyes. (whew! take a breath!) Ah, the good ol’ days, am I right?!

Of course any journey to Emeryville included the opportunity to eat somewhere different that you have been reading about never gotten around to trying. Particularly since you don’t own a car and have to rely on the kindness of friends and talking them into going over there. Honestly, I’d probably head over there more often if it had a public transportation stop but, strangely enough, BART only goes to Oakland without and Emeryville stop, which is kind of a shame since there a handful of things the boredom could drive me over there to experience. Like The Public Market, a giant open space food hall spot with an array of local food purveyors. Yeah, they have a couple non food places but I don’t play guitar and I can get jeans in SF. I’m just there for the food. Which is kind of my mantra.

It is why, on this road of places eaten but not reviewed, I was still in possession of the SO’s truck (before it was all taken away) when I randomly decided to just go over there and see what was the what. It was a Friday I took off from work as part of an apartment moving weekend and yes, it included an initial visit to IKEA to get some shit since most all mine was gone.

So there I was, wandering around a tad past lunch time, perusing the food stalls, or more appropriately, the mall like food court, trying to decide what I was in the mood to eat. Yes, my eternal conundrum and the bane of the SO’s existence when we travelled—me trying to decide what my stomach and taste buds were in the mood for, in that moment.

Call it a quirk, a flaw, a characteristic, a charming eccentricity(?), being a picky eater or whatever you will, but I can’t really explain my food emotion as it is. While everything may be good, if my appetite isn’t in that particular food mood, I won’t eat it and sometimes, I just won’t eat. The SO could pretty much find anything on any menu and eat anything. Some of us are not so lucky. If I’m not feeling it, I’m not eating it. If pushed to wall and made to get something anyway, I will most likely nibble at while bitching about the whole time. Hey, everybody’s got a hobby!

My first walk through I could easily cancel out a few things like (eww) sushi, burgers, pizza (all the pedestrian stuff I can get a block from where I live). There were a couple places whose food trucks I’d noshed at so they were also a no. It is when I came across a bbq joint and was like, mmm, smoked meats. Ribs, brisket, mmmmeeeaaatttt. I looked at their menu and could see myself making some internal decisions. There were only a couple people at the counter so it seemed my stomach had made up my mind.

But as has been the case in much of my life the last few years, you can’t always get what you want. Or at least, you can’t when you get impatient as the two people seems to have turned into a 10 minute ordeal about something I’m not really paying attention to and I can feel my attention span waning and my eyes wandering to something else as I approach what I will call exasperation hunger at this point.

I had really set myself up for meat but it wasn’t going to happen here at this place I shall not name and I wandered back over to the main pit area and by somewhat of a default, I found myself in front of Minnie Bell’s Soul Movement. Well, if smoked meat was off the menu then let’s continue in the Southern food vein and just our fried chicken on.

I’d vaguely heard about them and it didn’t seem like too big a jump from ribs to fried chicken. Plus, by now I was super hungry and determined to eat at one of these places since I had come all the way over here. Sure, it was to shop at IKEA, but, details. Besides, who doesn’t like fried chicken. It seems to be the de rigueur thing as everyone seems to have some variation of it on their menus. From individual pieces to sandwiches. If you aren’t doing fried chicken, you are missing the battered and fried meat of the moment it seems.

So there I stand in front of their stall, booth, counter looking at the menu and falling into habits of balancing carbs and veggies because sometimes I just can’t escape myself. My mind starts working and if I’m going to go Southern Soul food let’s go with some classics. Herewith, my not review of what I got from Minnie Bells.

Hunger means at least a three piece because if I can’t eat them all, at least there will be some left over to make my own sandwich with. See, always thinking ahead! A wing a breast and a thigh of buttermilk brined, double battered and lightly rosemary seasoned chicken deep friend to order and crispiness. Took some time but they had my cash so I wasn’t going to leave without food. It’s a thing. Crispy chicken is the best and they do a good job with the dark meat options on juiciness too. Take from that what you will. The cornbread slice was a nice big square and had a hint of sweetness. But I think we know what I am going to say, let’s all say it at once—NEEDS BUTTER. I can’t remember why I didn’t ask for some or why it did not automatically come with it. It should be mandatory—bread with butter—period. It really needed some butter too, take from that also what you will.

One of my sides was collard greens because, green vegetable. I do so love me some greens when done right. Tender with just a hint of crunch and an undertone of bitterness offset by bacon or fatback used to cook them down then maybe kicked up a notch with some apple cider vinegar. That is how I like my collards. These were not that. These were collard greens. Just collard greens. As plain as the picture you see above. Again, take from that what you will.

Carbs! While I eschew pasta pretty much all the time, I am a sucker for some mac and cheese on occasion (see Mac Daddy! Duh!) and a small side of it isn’t going to be so bad. Make it a baked mac and cheese and I am truly on board. It is the crust of cheese on top and the bits of chunky cheese throughout that really make a baked mac and cheese shine. Add in some cheesy creaminess, some black pepper, maybe paprika and more cheese and I’m finishing up this particular side of mac and cheese at the expense of everything else I got. And you can take that as it is.

Thus my trip to IKEA and the East Bay came to an end with the last batch of fried chicken or Southern food I was going to have there and it was from Minnie Bell’s Soul Movement. All good things come to an end like my random trips to “over there” to check out some different kind of food scene. In fact, it was my second to last ride across the Bay Bridge old and new I was going to make, unbeknownst to me.

Life has changes and change is a coming, at least in my life, though I have just a few not reviews to conclude before an even bigger change to life and blogging arrives. As for dining on Southern food in the East Bay and trips to IKEA, this was it. For now, take that as you will. At least till next time.