Ben Marcus Rules

KELLER’S SHELTER

Still on maps to this day, the area around the Malibu Pier is labeled “Keller’s Shelter,” honoring Don Matteo Keller, a 19th Century adventurer and entrepreneur who came to Alta California by way of Mexico, Keller bought the 13,300 acre Rancho Topanga Malibu y Sequit from Leon Victor Prudhomme - a Frenchman who had married the granddaughter of Jose Bartoleme Tapia, the first owner of the Malibu Rancho. 

On Nov. 5, 1857, Prudhomme signed over the deed to the Malibu for $1,400 — the equivalent of $35,000 in modern dollars but still a bargain for a large agricultural property with miles of perfect beaches under perfect weather only a short cattle drive from Santa Monica and Los Angeles.

Don Mateo Keller is remembered as one of the fathers of viticulture in southern California, but he experimented with other kinds of production, and that included planting 250 million oyster seeds in Malibu Lagoon - which in 1876 was pristine/brackish and a perfect environment for oysters. 

Don Matteo harvested 4,000,000 oysters a year.

I know what you’re thinking: Holy shuck! Were there enough people in Los Angeles in the 1870s to consume four million oysters a year? From 1870 to 1880 the population of the City of Los Angeles increased from 5,728 to 11,183 citizens, while the population of Los Angeles County doubled from 15,309 to 33,381. It’s unlikely all of those oysters were consumed in what would have had to be a non-stop shucking slurpfest within Los Angeles and surrounding counties. It’s more likely those SoCal oysters were packed in ice and shipped by train on the Southern Pacific - which connected San Francisco to Los Angeles in 1876. 

Los Angeles was a dusty, forgotten hamlet when San Francisco was the Paris of the West. Twenty years after the Gold Rush started, San Francisco had an increase in population from 149,473 in 1870 to 233,959 in 1880.  This was during a time when oysters were a staple source of protein and not the gourmet deal they are now.

Don Matteo’s oyster beds were short-lived and wiped out by a storm that flooded Malibu Canyon, Malibu Creek and Malibu Lagoon, half a century before Mrs. Rindge built her dam. 

BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY

Fast forward almost 150 years to the Fourth of July, 2019: Christopher Tompkins is a displaced New Yorker who looks like a cross between King Neptune and the Cowardly Lion - but he is closer to ocean deity than sketchy feline. On the Fourth of July, Tompkins swung open the doors to a quality, classy seafood bar called Broad Street Oyster Co. Tompkins had experience with pop up seafood bars in Santa Barbara, Silver Lake and all over southern California. According to Alyssa Morlacci in Malibu Magazine: 

“The brand started in 2017 when Tompkins would set up cold tables and a Coleman camping grill throughout Southern California in order to sell oysters and lobster rolls. Gaining a reputation as "The Oyster Man" in Silver Lake, he opened long-standing stations at Smorgasburg on Sundays and the Hollywood Night Market on Thursdays.” 

From a Coleman grill and tables to a 2,650 square foot permanent location with typically high Malibu rents. Broad Street Malibu was also meant as a pop up bar to see if the citizens and visitors would bite - so to speak - or slurp.

When Broad Street opened, the author and his friend Verizon John began a long association with BSOC and Tompkins by offering some local knowledge: “Places in Malibu either fall off a cliff or take off like a rocket. Atmosphere is important, quality is important, service is important and word of mouth is everything.”

HIDDEN AWAY

The location of Broad Street Oyster is both terrible and great. The place is mostly invisible, tucked away down a narrow alley behind the ever-popular Lululemon and the now not-so-pristine but still brackish Malibu Lagoon where Don Mateo Keller raised all those oysters way back in the 19th Century. 

The location, location, location of Broad Street Oyster Co. was the Italian restaurant Guido’s from 1993 to 2012, and then for two years it was Malibu Burger Co. - run by Cisco Adler and Matt Winter - before abruptly and mysteriously closing its doors in June of 2019.

The space was empty and needy when Tompkins made a temporary pop-up deal with the landlord - they would be wide open for the summer and peeking into fall, see how that went, and then renegotiate from there. 

Fortunately, the space was almost perfect for Tompkins’ needs - from the kitchen in back to the ice coolers in the front and the seating area. Almost like it was designed for an oyster bar. 

Broad Street flowed right in and began to decorate the place with nautical kitsch and touches of Hollywood: TV sets in the bathrooms showing Baywatch reruns, surf posters, netting, buoys, plastic lobsters, the finest in velvet art.

Fun stuff, everywhere. Atmosphere.

Hidden away and invisible, but because of social media, location, location, location and visibility don’t mean what they used to. In this modern world, visibility on social media is everything, and in that respect, Broad Street Oyster Co. knew all the 21st Century tricks: Instagram, Yelp, Uber Eats, ordering off the website.

Broad Street took off like SpaceX.  Almost right off the bat, Broad Street Oyster found that perfect alchemy of funky and fashionable - cuisine and kitsch - that struck all the right notes with Malibu citizens and outsiders. 

Quality, atmosphere, word of mouth.

From the Fourth of July opening, Broad Street had indoor seating and it definitely had atmosphere: A great soundtrack from Little Richard to the Buzzcocks to hardcore, not-suitable-for-young-ears hardcore rap. Overwatched by a poster of Pamela Anderson in her red suit from Baywatch, it’s not a place that a mussell-hugging vegan like Pamela would find a lot to eat, but sometimes a for-real celebrity would be inside: The Edge from U2 (gazing wistfully at his undeveloped $9,000,000 ridge), Axl Rose, Patrick Dempsey, Michael Madsen.

Broad Street was “on for young and old” as the Australians say. On for locals and out of towners. For the famous and anonymous. What was a tentative summer pop up took off like a rocket, inspiring Tompkins’ to cut a long-term lease deal with the property owners (Jamestown) - and hope for the best.

The best was yet to come, carried along on the back of the worst.

LOBSTER IN A TIME OF COVID
Covid began to rear its ugly head in February of 2020 - seven months after the July 4th opening. There were regulations and closures and rumors and direness.

Tompkins’ and staff quaked like every other business owner in Los Angeles, California, the world: Would they stay open or would they close now?
But then Covid turned out to be a boon for Broad Street Oyster Co.

Why? Malibu is the last, best place in southern California. A remarkably unsullied, fresh, underdeveloped and not uglified coastal hamlet with a population density of 600 people per square mile between the Santa Monica Mountains and the Deep Blue Sea. Malibu is beset on three sides by the tyrannies of modern southern California: densely populated, trafficky, strip-malled, anonymous suburbs and cities. 

“Agouraphobia” is my invented word to describe Malibu’s distaste for development. No one wants Malibu to look like the Valley, and it has been preserved by citizens who care about quality of life, aesthetics, density.

Citizens come to Malibu to escape the heat, the traffic, the sameness to breathe in the salty air of a rural place with its feet in the cold blue Pacific Ocean and its face in the warm sun that arcs from east to west.

That has always been true of Malibu and it’s popularity, but that was even truer during Covid as citizens escaped the shady, sketchy turf from Agoura to Venice to Ventura, to catch some rays in the sunny surf and clean air of Malibu.

Broad Street shaked and quaked and never closed completely, although they closed the indoor dining, which forced customers into the parking lot.

But Tompkins and team adjusted and made that work, opening a temporary drive-through lane and using bullhorns to announce when orders were ready. But then the fire department forced them to close the drive through lane, and most of the parking spaces were taken up by eight Tesla SuperChargers and a couple of generics. 

But Tompkins and team adjusted and made that work, and through the winter of 2020/2021, Broad Street kept adjusting and people kept on coming.

A CLEAN, WELL-LIGHTED PLACE

Way back in 1984, I peered wistfully from a train moving up along the River Nive to Saint Jean pied de Port in the Pyrenees Mountains. While sitting at a cafe in one of the prettiest places on earth,  I studied some feeding trout and saw they worked in a triangular pattern, from rock to rock and back.

As an impoverished Malibu writer - hardly the first - I now work in a triangular pattern that mimics those French trout: In the morning I write at Malibu Kitchen until my battery runs out or Bill the Owner throws me out. From there I go to Whole Foods to plug in and recharge and write some more and eat their packaged sushi and watch TV and admire the steady parade of ridiculously cute, healthy Pepperdine girls - do they make coeds submit 8” x 10” glossies with their SATs?

Yeesh.

And then in the evening, Broad Street Oyster Co. at Golden Hour (where I am right now). It’s nice back there between a high end strip mall and the Malibu Lagoon. Seabirds and helicopters circling, overwatched by $50 million homes, the sun lighting up that refreshingly unsullied Saddle Peak and exposing that designer home at the top - home to the grandson of Frank Lloyd Wright.

The landowners are so overjoyed to have a client like Broad Street attracting mass quantities of outsiders during tough times, they allowed Chris and team to take up the remaining parking spots with two big tents. Warm at night from the propane heaters, shady in the day - because Malibu is pretty danged hot during Indian Summer.

So I sit under there and work and talk to people and look for celebrities and dig the soundtrack and think back to a time when the Malibu Lagoon was pristine and full of steelhead and oyster. 

And sometimes even buy a draft beer or something to eat.

MALIBUILLABAISSE

Malibuillabaisse. In a word - or a combination of two words -  that describes the menu at Broad Street Oyster Co. Well two words: “Malibuillabaisse” and “Fresh!” Broad Street Oyster is the seafood diet. You see the food, and you want to eat it.

Although “Oyster” has top billing, by far the most popular items are the lobster rolls - big, healthy pieces of Atlantic lobster, served hot or cold in a butter-saturated brioche, with french fries or fresh-made potato chips = filling and fulfilling.

(Chris Tompkins has whispered to me how many lobster rolls they sell on the busiest days. That number is classified, but eye-popping. Are there any lobster left in Maine?)

Lobster hot and cold, oysters by the dozen (not from Malibu Lagoon = yeesh!), fish and chips good enough to draw in some of Malibu’s famous British celebrities.

(I know the husband of a very well known English actress who goes there all the time, probably for the fish and chips.)

Malibuillabaisse. In the fall, the Atlantic lobster are joined by the locals - spiney Pacific lobster served with corn and other trimmings. Yum.

Surf and turf? Try field and stream. While it might seem weird to go to a seafood place to eat beef, their hamburgers are really good. Like, way good: Thick, messy, dripping - porn versions of In ‘N Out. No kidding. The burgers are pretty epic.

What’s good? I like the clam chowder with sourdough bread on those chilly winter nights. I’m partial to the lobster rolls, and the hamburgers/cheeseburgers and the caesar salads and also the calamari steak: all of it good and hot and fresh and tasty and filling and satisfying.

NOT KOSHER, BUT KOSHERISH

In the fall of 2021 I was editing a book written by Nachum Shifren - the surfing Rabbi. We would go up to the order window and he would look at the menu balefully to find something he could grind that wouldn’t get him struck down from On High: 
Cheeseburgers? Nope.

Lobster roll? Nope. 
Oyster? Nope. 
Crab? Nope.

Kosher rules are so strict, even lettuce has to be washed by hand on a light table lest someone consume any insect - which are also forbidden.

Broad Street isn’t kosher, but you get that same feeling after eating kosher food: carefully prepared, healthy.

Here’s the menu. See for yourself.

What haven’t I had?

Never tried the $150 Seafood Tower or the Caribbean Stone Claw Crabs or the Snapper Ceviche.
Sea Urchins? I’ve stepped on urchins in Hawaii and even went to Kaiser Hospital to get one out of my foot. Just as the Rabbi’s kosher laws disallow eating any fish that doesn’t have fins and scales, my own personal faith does not permit me to eat any fish that I can step on.

Under Shareables I have had the Calamari Steak which is fried and yummy, but never the Broccolini (because it’s broccoli) or the Fried Shrimp or the Maryland Style Crab Cake or the Pound O’ Mussels, which is another sea creature I have cut my hands and feet on, and prefer not to eat.

Chorizo and Clams sounds good. Maybe that tonight.

Under Salad, Soups and Sides I really like the Caesar Salad and even eat the anchovies, but never had it with Lobster or Shrimp. 

I like the Clam Chowder with a side of Sourdough Bread on a chilly Malibu night, but I’ve never had the Mixed Green Salad or the Lobster Bisque or the Potato Salad, Roasted Veggies, Corn Salad or Chad’s Coleslaw.

Try them and tell me how they are.

Under The Hits I’ve already expounded on the wonders of the Famous Lobster Roll and the Double Burger - although the menu says you can get the hamburger with avocado or bacon or a fried egg. 

Maybe all of the above? Yeesh.

I like the Fish and Chips, but never had the Baja Tacos or the Mushroom Roll, Cioppino or the Fried Fish Sando.

If the Captain’s Catch is ever Bluefin Tuna I’ll have it, because there is no better fish on heaven or earth than Bluefin.Trust me.

(Because I am known around Malibu as a talented but impoverished writer, a local Japanese surfer/gazillionaire once flowed me the Linguine and Clams and it was yummy.) 

Sea Urchin Spaghetti? Nope. See: Urchins.

The Caviar Service offers sturgeon caviar for $35 to $235 with potato chips, creme fraiche and fixin’s. Maybe tonight I’ll get a Lobster Roll with Caviar, just to be completely indulgent.

Lots to try! Come on by!

Oh you’re thirsty. Okay, no problem.

CRAFTY BEERS

As of August 2019, Broad Street got a legit beer and wine license, and they opened up one of the windows - the Tiki Bar - to distribute their incredible array of wines from California and elsewhere, and the bewildering array of craft beers this 21st Century has made available: “I’d call it an eclectic mix of craft beers from as many California producers as possible,” Christopher Tompkins said. “Varies day to day.” 

I’m drinking a beer right now as I am writing this

PINK’S HOT DOGS IS A CAKEWALK

As the kids say, “It’s all good,” which probably explains the unbelievable crowds Broad Street attracts through the summer and now, in the fall and winter, starting Friday evenings and all through the weekend.

You thought Pink’s Hot Dogs was a long line? Pink’s is a cakewalk compared to Broad Street. On a hot weekend or holiday like Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day, the line goes out into the parking lot and turns right. 

Los Angeles people hate to wait, but sometimes there’s an hour wait to order and pick up your food. Another cool facet of Broad Street is how they use a bullhorn to announce whose food is ready, and people go running up to the window before they pass out from anticipation and starvation.

Atmosphere. Fun. It’s all part of the show.

Broad Street can be a wait, but people are willing to wait. Maybe because it’s fun back there, far from the madding crowds, hidden away with the view of the lagoon, and the two tents for shade, and the soundtrack and all those $60 million homes (yeah, they went up $10 million as you were reading this).

Atmosphere. Broad Street has oodles.

To quote Brad Pitt from Inglorious Basterds: “Souuuuuund good?”

It is good. Read Broad Street’s Yelp reviews and they are generally favorable, although some people will complain about the long waits, and others about the prices. This is Malibu after all, home to extravagant rents, so the Malibu prices are Malibu pricey.

There were complaints about having to walk a couple hundred yards to the nearest bathroom - central Malibu is on septic and public-bathroom-challenged and that’s why you don’t want to eat any oysters or anything from Malibu Lagoon - but that was solved recently when the landlord opened a bathroom close by - behind Marine Layer.

MALIBUILLABAISSE

I am writing this on a fine fall Indian Summer day in October. It is Golden Hour on a Thursday, and Broad Street is busy enough. It is never dead here. Ever. Football starts in an hour and my friends want some lobster rolls, so I am going to order that and find something on the menu I haven’t yet tried.

Research, you understand. I go with the warm lobster roll with caviar - no chips or fries - and the cioppino.

Broad Street Oyster Co. is - as my brother Dan would say - spendy. But hey, live a little. They announce my name with the bullhorn, hand me a bag brimming with that Malibuillabaisse and I ride home, taking the lane along Malibu Lagoon and wondering what it must have been like to harvest 4,000,000 oysters a year, and get them fresh to whoever was eating all that ocean protein.

A mystery. One of many Malibu mysteries.

I deliver the food without crashing my EBike and my friends - one of whom just broke her leg badly while surfing Topanga - settle in for a nice meal, and some Thursday night football - eaten outside, on the balcony, with the sun setting and the container ships bobbing and the passenger jets landing and lifting off and dolphin jumping and parakeets screeching and all the wonders of Malibu life.

La dolce vita. (See P.S. below)

P.S. I’m sitting with Chris Tompkins on a busy Saturday - the day before Halloween. We’re cleaning up this story. When asked if BSOC sold 4,000,000 oysters a year, he said, “I wish.” 

But then he told me how many oysters they sell a year, and it’s a big number.
I wondered if Chris had a guess as to where Don Matteo Keller sold and shipped those 4,000,000 oysters a year in 1876. And then he went all Forrest Gump: “There’s raw oysters, fried oysters…. canned and pickled oysters, maybe? Shipped to the east coast. Read The Big Oyster: History on the Half Shell by Mark Kurlansky. You might find answers there.”