JooDooBoo
4201 Market St.
Oakland
You might think it’s holiday season, but the folks at Oakland’s JooDooBoo, a Korean banchan and house-made tofu deli and market, and I know that in truth it is persimmon season.
If you’re lucky enough to live in a climate like ours where the eye-catching and unusual fruits can be spotted on trees around town, you’re likely familiar with the divinity of a fully ripe persimmon (hachiya especially, but a soft fuyu is nothing to scoff at either), on-the-edge-of-gelatinous-but-still-soft insides, melting in your mouth, a stewed and seasoned flavor emanating from fresh flesh. There’s little like it.
So each year I try to consume them as frequently as possible during their brief window of splendor. Eat an unripe one, which you may have done, and a dry astringency will coat your mouth, sapping all moisture and making you question why we consume such things. Do not despair: Simply wait until it feels too ripe to be right, then consume with glee.
Hoshigaki, or gotgam, are slow-dried versions of the fruit, peeled and hung to create a firm and sugar-crystallized exterior and jammy, chewy flesh. Several bright red racks filled with these dangled from the ceiling of JooDooBoo. After initially assuming they were peppers (I’d spotted some smaller hot bois growing curbside when we parked), I realized what they were. They were not yet on the menu; I can only presume they will be added in coming weeks, and I plan to return for a taste.
Boasting a small menu, the space was slow for lunchtime when my friend and I arrived, so we got to soak in the cute finishings, smattering on happy and healthy real live plants, and adorable merch before ordering. We selected the fried dooboo set with hot date sauce added ($20 + $4), the vegan banchan set ($13), and a persimmon spritz ($7) to split.
The restaurant takes its name from the dooboo, or Korean tofu, and the chef/owner, Steve Joo. The dooboo set came as a set of six small dishes — a smashed kabocha squash, salad, pickled radish and persimmon, cooked cauliflower with sunflower seeds, rice, and, of course, the dooboo. The banchan set had the same pickled veg and squash along with an anchovy dish Jasmine loved and a different, pickled cauliflower with carrots.
Everything was delicious, and fairly quick to arrive despite an apology for our wait. The spritz, a stunning shade of orange nearly glowing in its backlit position by the window, was lightly sweet with citrus undertones. (I guessed clementine or tangerine, but did not ask.) It was and topped with just enough soda water to keep it drinkable but not watered down. The squash was ultra creamy and mouth-coating with some bits whole and chunky and full of oomf and other parts mushed into a coating for the rest. Both cauliflower dishes tasted fresh and lively, with the cooked version softer and gentler and the pickles bright and crunchy without the vinegary bite of far too many “pickles” on offer these days, nearly good enough to make all the other imposters worth their undersalted weight.
The salad was bright and zippy and tangy and tart, but once again fairly low acidity despite that, making the juicy fresh leaves lovely accompaniment and foil to the richer and more cloying textures. The rice was chewy, fluffy, speckled with red quinoa, and as sticky and steaming as one could hope. The date sauce was a nice addition but not something I’d return for, without the promised heat and not a huge amount of discernible date flavor to me either.
The pickled radish and persimmon were a lovely and unexpected combination, with the radish providing a bit of earthy funky and sturdiness, not to mention brine coloring, to the tender, juicy persimmon flesh, and an unexpected but very enjoyable ginger backdrop. It left me convinced that should I ever have a surplus of the fruits I can’t consume (as if), pickled they will be, and that pickled ginger hardly needs to be relegated to a side for sushi.
Finally, the tofu. On sale by the block for $9 as well, this staple is a reminder of what slow food can and should be. The fried cube we shared was tender without entirely disintegrating, luscious on the tongue and throat, with its finely crusted exterior resting in a pool of salty, citrusy, sesame-seeded sauce that felt complex beyond its perceived depth. Warm and comforting, it is a dish for always, and the ever-evolving backdrop of seasonal fare it is served alongside leaves me eager to experience the future fare.
JooDooBoo is open Tuesday-Saturday 12 – 7 pm, and has offerings on sale at Berkeley Farmers Markets weekly.
