I haven't met anyone yet who doesn't love Miss Ollie's. And I mean, love. A random poll in my living room brought hands to hearts and lots of cooing, as if I'd placed a puppy in the center of the room. It's more than the food that makes this kind of thing happen -- there's an abstract soulfulness to Miss Ollie's that people like to try and pin down, but end up flocking there instead like moths to an oil lamp on a hot Caribbean night. The food is unequivocally good, and the vibe is intoxicatingly jovial. It's bright and warm, a Technicolor dreamscape of turquoise tin, bright peppers, and vintage barber ads. Oakland's jolly oasis. Somehow, it makes you feel familiar without being anything like the home you grew up in.
Molly Gore Salt cod and ackee at Miss Ollie's.