It is one of the first truly fall-like days this year, cool and a little windy. Gray clouds, heavy with moisture veil the sunrise. And a steady but short-lived shower greets Silvia McCollow as she arrives at the Grand Lake farmers market shortly before 8 a.m.
“Some women shop for purses and shoes. I buy produce,” quips McCollow, the co-owner of Oakland’s Nido, which interprets Mexican regional fare with a farm-to-table philosophy.
The market is still coming to life. Farmers and vendors pop up tents, unload produce and arrange it for display in crates and on tables.
McCollow likes to arrive early at this popular, bustling Saturday market. The early hour helps in finding parking, true, but McCollow also wants to get her choice of the freshest, best-looking and most colorful produce. “The colors of the farmers market in the fall,” she says, “are beautiful.”
Her focus on the color palette is hardly surprising. McCollow is an artist and former teacher, as well as a restaurateur.
Her first stop is at a table laden with a rainbow of sweet potatoes — garnet, orange and white. She places some of each in her bag, followed by several bunches of gold and crimson beets, destined for a salad with persimmon, orange, walnut and queso fresco on Nido’s dinner menu.
Local farms deliver produce to the restaurant, of course, but McCollow visits farmers markets a few times a week to search for more — and to ask farmers, “What’s next?” She and her co-chef, Jose Ramos, formerly of Nopalito in San Francisco, use that information to plan menus for the weeks ahead.
These days, it’s almost expected that Bay Area chefs cruise the farmers markets, but it’s more than just a trend for McCollow. Her father and grandfather were farmers in Nayarit, Mexico. Her husband, Cory, who helps out at the restaurant when he can — he works full time for the Coast Guard — grew up on a dairy farm in Ohio. McCollow is keenly aware of the toil, satisfaction and occasional sorrow that comes with having your livelihood tied to the soil.
Still, shopping the markets as a restaurant owner is a relatively new experience. Since opening Nido in late 2012, this is only her second fall season, and she considers each trip an adventure.
“I’m as surprised, lost and excited as everyone else,” she says. “Every time I come, it’s a learning process.”
She’s quick to point out she’s not a trained chef, although she had a brief internship at Chez Panisse after moving to the Bay Area and deciding to open a restaurant.
That may be so, but in just two years, the restaurant has accumulated plaudits from Travel + Leisure magazine, which called Nido one of the best Mexican restaurants in the U.S., and star-studded praise from restaurant critics at San Francisco Magazine, the Bay Area News Group’s Oakland Tribune and Contra Costa Times, and the San Francisco Chronicle, which put Nido on its top 100 Bay Area restaurants list last month.
“I am a home cook,” McCollow says, “that decided to take my recipes and use them as a springboard for what I wanted to create.”
Many of those recipes she learned from her mother and grandmother. McCollow grew up in Southern California and spent a lot of time in Mexico visiting extended family. Her mother, a nurse, emphasized fresh, healthy ingredients to feed a large family that included five children, grandparents and, often, cousins visiting from Mexico.
As she picks up a large bulb of fennel, McCollow explains that although it’s not traditionally grown in Mexico, she’ll use it because it mimics the licoricelike flavors of other herbs and spices used in some Mexican dishes.
“But we’re not doing fusion,” she adds quickly. “I’m not going to get bok choy, for instance.”
Tiptoeing gingerly around puddles in her ballet flats, she makes a few more stops, picking up vivid purple cauliflower, jicama, radishes and a few pears, and nearly emptying her wallet before calling it a day.
Back at the restaurant, McCollow’s husband helps her unload her market haul. She and Ramos will deal with it later. It’s a few minutes after 10 a.m., and the restaurant has quickly filled for brunch.
Diners order plates heaping with chilaquiles verde and steaming bowls of posole, made with a richly spiced chile broth and purple hominy, cooked from scratch. Its firm texture and slightly nutty flavor is a far cry from most hominy, which is white, bland and mealy. The satisfying soup is served with a side of thinly sliced cabbage, radishes and cubes of avocado.
Clearly it’s the dedication to fresh, thoughtfully sourced ingredients that draws diners to this unlikely location for a restaurant, just blocks from the prime Jack London Square real estate but seemingly a world away. Nido is surrounded by warehouses and sits in the shadow of the Nimitz Freeway.
“We have the worst view in the city,” laughs McCollow, referring to the gas station across the street.
But McCollow’s artistic talents draw focus away from what’s outside to the relaxed, attractive space she’s created at Nido with a mix of raw and finished materials: reclaimed wood and pieces of red, corrugated shipping containers on walls; splashes of Mexican tile; and a colorful, partially unfinished mural reminiscent of Aztec art.
That same aesthetic is in each dish. Later that day, a bowl of Caldo Xochitl will include paper-thin slivers of that purple cauliflower and butternut squash, herbs and edible flowers, a colorful riot of texture and taste. And jicama, Cara Cara oranges and pomegranate seeds will adorn a ceviche-inspired Aguachile de Habanero Tatemado.
The simplicity and elegance that comes from staying true to the raw ingredients that she carefully selects at the farmers market is part of the philosophy she identified with during her stint at Chez Panisse.
“Food is meant to be eaten. It doesn’t have to be a masterpiece,” McCollow says. “It’s like art. A sketch or a doodle can be just as beautiful.”
At the Market
Beets: Look for small bulbs, 1 ½ to 2 inches in diameter. If they get too large, they get a little woody. Beets have a natural affinity for other seasonal foods such as walnuts and citrus, especially oranges. Pair in salads with things like black olives or fresh, briny cheeses whose saltiness is a nice counterpoint to beets’ earthy sweetness.
Purple cauliflower: When choosing a cauliflower, pick it up. It should feel heavy. The leaves should be very fresh. Yellowing leaves are a sign of age. This vibrantly hued cauliflower gets its color from the same antioxidant that gives red cabbage and blueberries their distinctive shades. That antioxidant is water soluble, so avoid steaming or boiling the cauliflower. Less is more when it comes to purple cauliflower. When cooked too long it loses its vibrant color, so roast it briefly, use it raw in salads, or add it to soup at the last minute for a brilliant flourish of color.
Fennel: The best and most tender fennel have snow-white bulbs and fresh green, feathery fronds. Fennel is a culinary chameleon, changing and adapting to each particular use. Shave the bulb and use it in salads with a citrus dressing, or cut it up and add it with other veggies when roasting meats. The feathery fronds can be added to salads, soups or sauces to add a light anise or licorice flavor.
Rosemary: This versatile herb is particularly well-suited for the kind of cooking we love to do in winter: roasting and baking. Use it to season pork or lamb roasts, or toss with potatoes, salt and olive oil for a simple side dish. When baking, add it to bread or pair it with lemon in an unforgettably good shortbread.
