On October 31, Lynn Ramsey went to open Street, the restaurant she’s owned at 2141 Polk Street for the last 30 years, and discovered that the power was out. Two weeks later it’s still out, with no end in sight.
When Ramsey first discovered the outage, she was frustrated, but not surprised. The same thing had happened in early October when construction in the building at another business knocked out the connection between 2141 Polk and the grid. PG&E sent someone to fix the connection.
On Halloween she called PG&E again. This time, when the technicians showed up, they did not fix the connection. The wiring connecting the building to the grid had not been installed by PG&E, they said, and that made repairs difficult.
Ramsey raced to save what food she could. Bags of homemade bolognese were transferred to a freezer in Ramsey’s garage. The refrigerators were emptied and cleaned out. Ramsey’s dog, Henry, got to eat delicious scraps.
A week passed. Still no power.
Her pleas to PG&E to reconnect the power were met with news that her power might be restored by mid-November. Or late November. Or maybe later than that. PG&E needed to dig trenches in front of the building to reinstall the wiring, Ramsey recalls being told. That meant that the building would have “minimal power” until February.
“We understand how concerning and frustrating it can be to experience a power issue, particularly while construction is underway in the location,” said a PG&E spokesperson Friday about the downed power at Street Restaurant. “While we are generally not responsible for equipment that is not owned by PG&E, we are committed to addressing any issues related to our equipment and helping the customer understand the appropriate next steps.”
Down but not defeated, Ramsey took matters into her own hands. On Nov. 11, she hung up a sign that read “BAR OPEN: Kitchen closed due to endless power outage.”
“My friend bought me a bluetooth speaker and battery powered string lights,” Ramsey said. “And I bought a bunch of peanuts.”
So was born Street Restaurant’s alter ego: a candlelit, cash-only bar with cheap drinks and good tunes.
And the regulars showed up.
On a recent Thursday, Craig Herran sat at the bar, drinking a glass of white wine. Herran ordered takeout from Street Restaurant for years before he sat down for a meal there, he said. “I’ve been a regular ever since.”
As patrons clustered together in the candlelight, sharing stories, Ramsey listened from behind the bar, pouring out the $5 martinis that have become popular in recent weeks (they originally were $2 martinis, said Ramsey, but patrons got a little too rowdy).
Ramsey estimates that she’s losing about $2,000 a day in sales by not having a functioning kitchen.
The menu was still there, in spirit. Debate continued over what was the best dinner plate. Was it the Sunday night fried chicken? The meatloaf? The classic burger?
Melanie S., a neighbor to Street Restaurant, was on her second martini (with two olives), and said that the best dish was the salmon, indisputably.
She used to babysit Ramsey’s daughter, who is in college now, Melanie said. She remembers when Ramsey ran Street Restaurant with her husband, John Lamkin, who died of cancer three years ago, a month before the pair’s 34th anniversary and a month before his 65th birthday.
The business was John’s idea, Ramsey said. He originally planned for the menu to center street food from around the world, hence the name. Over time, it evolved into New American cuisine with some global influences.
“We do a fried chicken plate that’s legendary,” Ramsey said. “And our burgers are very famous. I used to say I could be giving away lobster and if someone was coming in for a burger, they’d still order a burger.”
Of the more than two decades they spent running the restaurant, Ramsey remembers Lamkin’s absolute commitment to a New Year’s Eve themed menu, and the busboys dancing on the bar at the end of the night.
“He had a real knack,” Ramsey said. For cooking? Yes, she said, but also simply a knack for understanding food. “His palate was amazing… He was everything to the business. I was just there for help and support. And I decorated at Christmas.”
But, patrons say, Ramsey is the beating heart of the restaurant, and has carried on John’s passion for the business.
“She survived Covid, she survived losing John,” said Keith, who sipped on his beer. “This isn’t it for her.”
