Oaklandia Bakery x Cafe
555 12th St.
Oakland
Midafternoon, and I have yet to eat. I think I am going to chow down on a juicy salad, a buttery pastry, and a satisfying sandwich. At Oaklandia Bakery x Cafe, I am partially correct.
Oaklandia, formerly located in the Pill Hill neighborhood, now resides in a large, bright, and open street-level unit of 555 12th St. The building, a 21-story, gleaming glass office tower at the edge of Oakland’s downtown, is far from fully occupied, but the resident cafe seems to be doing just fine, with several people sprawled across the vast interior working and chatting, a slow stream of customers like me ordering to go. They proudly boast their membership to BAOBOB, the Bay Area Organization of Black Owned Businesses (not to be confused with Bissap Baobab, a beloved Senegalese restaurant and dance space) on the glass entrance doors, along with the building’s LEED certification.
The owners, a couple who fell in love with each other and their shared Oakland roots, have made a sweet gem in an unexpected place, opening in this location after the success of the original cafe. The corporate feeling of the building is combated with shockingly vibrant local art and a handful of cheeky menu names, like the breakfast “oakmeal.”
My first visit that hungry hungry afternoon brought me a lavender blueberry scone, a roasted cauliflower sandwich, and the summer vegan salad.
I immediately broke into the scone, a triumph of its kind: soft and lightly browned on top, with just the right amount of turbinado sugar for crunch and flavor. The interior, pillowy and breaking into soft shards, melted in my mouth, the butter coming through but not coating, the blueberries fresh but not too juicy: no purple streams down the chin here. The lavender was a bit too light in flavor to come through, but still lent a tad of depth and floral levity to the scone.
Upon returning home to dig the f in, I discovered my salad to be, well, dry. That juicy freshness I’d been craving was markedly missing: it was entirely undressed. As I was home I was able to supplement with my selection of oils and vinegars, but had I taken to eat outside, as I’d originally planned, I’m not sure I would have gotten more than two bites in. It was packed full of roasted veggies with a nice kick of black pepper and a perfect avocado half sliced on top, but the dry lettuce and two whole pepperoncini were unsatisfying. The slice of oily focaccia, however, was divine. Soft and chewy, light.
The roasted cauliflower sandwich, also served on that rosemary focaccia, was layered with flavors. The “curry steak” cauliflower, sharing space with “crispy kale, red onions,roasted tomatoes, spinach, basil pesto”, was cooked to fork tender, easy to bite though without disturbing all of the contents. The whole number was quite soft, but in an okay way, so long as you consume it quickly. The onions and pesto brought an acidic side to marry together the fillings, and the glutinous chew of the bread, with a slightly sweet but earthy from the rosemary base, was greasy and good. My only complaints, one semantic and one a personal preference, are: calling that cauliflower a steak seemed pretty ridiculous (far too thin, in several chunks not one whole piece, no juice leaking out through bites), and I would have loved more freshness to it: I stuffed it with some of my salad greens, once I’d dressed them, and that brought me the contrast I craved. I just wished it was handed to me that way.
Wanting to understand their offerings better, I returned for just pastries. It is a bakery, after all, and there is clear love infused into those baked goods. Diving in, I chose four I hoped would represent their brethren: a plain butter croissant, for quality control, an apple turnover, for flakiness and goo, a strawberry danish for tart freshness, and spinach and ricotta croissant for the savory side.
The plain croissant was very good; perfectly golden brown, layers tearing off in large shards, interior so soft, and no discernible sweetness. The butter, whatever they use, is good. The spinach option, rolled and cut into a rectangular shape like a pain au chocolate with three vents, also boasted that flake-and-butter-forward exterior, with a very soft dark green filling. I am sure the ricotta was in there, but perhaps too blended with the spinach — I loved how vegetal and light-bodied it was, but wished for a more obviously cheesy flavor and mouthfeel. Still a super solid choice, just missing that clear distinction and alternate umami punch.
The strawberry (compote) danish, a very cute round, almost nest-like number, offered a different style of pastry. Soft and more breadlike with much more sweetness, the cheese filling cradled four berry halves, their centers firm and edges bleeding pink. The golden edges held up to hand-held bites, the cheese and berries mingling for a tart and sweet and luscious time. But where was the compote? In the apple turnover?
That turnover was the star of the show. I mean, just look at her. Nearly an inch high, sides sealed but only just barely, with a kiss of color and the lightest dough I have tasted in some time. I realize you may be tired of hearing the word flaky, but there is no other here. It is the kind of pastry to stick to your face, or beard, and leave you fishing for those crumbs. The filling, a nearly liquid mush of apple chunks, was tart and bright. No canned apple pie filling here. The apples, softened but still holding their shape, swam in their own juices, bolstered by the right level of sugar, and just barely contained by their housing. It could have been messy, but scarfing it down in a few quick bites, we avoided that potential tragedy, a loss of precious goop.
As with the cauli steak, I would have liked things a tad more if they were billed more conservatively, as I raised my expectations to a different place than what they are truly offering. If there was indeed compote on that Danish it missed me entirely, but all photos by the cafe confirm the same kind as I bought— absolutely delicious, soft and sweet but not too much so, cheese holding those baked berries lovingly. It is a great pastry! But a fresh fruit one, no?
This cafe x bakery is a pastry darling, with the buttery flakes persisting until closing time and an array of sweet and savory choices to fit most palates. I look forward to returning to finish out a sampling of their baked goods and to try the breakfast sandwiches, all clocking in under $8.50, a true feat in this economy.
Oaklandia is open M‑F from 7 – 4.
