Locke, CA~Feb. 24, 2010~ No doubt you are familiar with the old saw proclaiming: “There’s no free lunch.” As it turns out, that’s not entirely true in this neck of the woods (or bend in the river if you prefer). I’ve been hearing for years about the famous “Free Lunch” served annually at Al the Wop’s, a delightful down-at-the-heels dive along the Sacramento River. For an equal period of time I’ve vowed to make this gig; it sounded like a genuine, if somewhat offbeat, good time. But something else has always intervened. This year, however, I made good on the free food promise.
A joint with an un-apologetically and shamelessly politically incorrect name, Al’s place sits smack dab in the middle of Locke, a whole town about two blocks long. The only thing holding up the building is the building next to it. All manner of folk belly up to a bar which, on the east end, is slowly sinking into the floor. Most of the year Al’s serves generous cocktails, cold beer, local wine, and to-die-for steak sandwiches and cheeseburgers at both lunch and dinner.
But once each winter the standard lunch menu goes out the window and a beef liver feed is on, and for free. According to Al’s unofficial historians, this used to be a “men only” gig that was hosted by the local Men’s Club. It was notoriously raucous. The fun factor, however, was upped by 10-square when a few female “bar flies” (so described by those who were there) decided to crash the party some years back. Suddenly the men were asking each other why they’d banned women all those years. Nowadays, the barroom doors are flung open for men, women, and anyone with a hankering for a wild mid-day, mid-week, mid-winter liver chomping party.
Eat your heart out
Since man does not live by liver alone, the bar stools are cleared away leaving only the bar top and an ancient brass foot-rail where locals, farmers, bikers and tourists alike stand five deep calling out for Bloody Marys and other eye openers. Lined up patiently with drinks in hand, diners are herded into the dining room as space allows. From the opening gong about 11:30 am until the ingredients are gone, it’s a constant wave of seating hungry lunchers.
The meal includes steaming plates of sautéed liver, onions and bacon along with a salad and bread (savvy diners know to ask for a bowl of marinated beef heart as well). Al’s cheerful staffers try to keep the chaos at a manageable level. The party spills out front into the narrow street as folks stand in line, anxious to party with friends and grub down gratis.
Seating is family style, meaning you’re likely to meet new friends across the table. This day our dining companions were from up-river (Sacramento) and we all introduced ourselves as plates of hot grub were plopped down in front of us. Our city-slicker companions wrinkled up their noses after a bite or two and promptly decided that their time was best spent sucking up suds at the bar. C’est la vie. By the time we rolled out, we’d met folks from up river and down, as well as inlanders and locals. Everybody’s a buddy at Al’s and, as it turned out, the party continues down river as the bar crowd hops along the levee to hit all the local dives.
Mystery fire
The town of Locke has a rich and colorful history dating back to the 1800s and was added to the National Historic Places registry in 1970 as being the only town in America that was built exclusively by Chinese for the Chinese.
The town was established in 1915 after a delegation of eight Chinese merchants decided it was time to build their own community, since the Chinese section of nearby Walnut Grove had mysteriously burned to the ground just months before. Due to the Alien Act of 1913, the immigrants were not allowed to own land themselves, so the merchants approached a local landowner, George Locke, about building on his property and an agreement was reached.
Originally migrating to the area after the passage of the Swamp and Overflow Act of 1861, which brought about levee construction and provided jobs for thousands of Chinese, the immigrants worked waist deep in water to build the hundreds of miles of levees that cross the Delta swamplands. They provided the backbreaking labor necessary to cut drainage ditches, build levees and floodgates in areas where malaria was still endemic. A total of 88,000 acres was reclaimed from the Delta marshlands between 1860-1880.
By 1925, some 600 Chinese called Locke home. The thriving town had restaurants, a general store, a school, ancient Chinese Medicine offices and boarding houses as well as gambling halls, speakeasies, and opium dens, all run by Chinese, while the prostitution businesses were run and staffed by whites. Now inhabited by some 80-90 souls, the town of Locke still appears, essentially, as it did back in 1920, but has a mere 10 Chinese residents.
In 1934 a gregarious Italian named Al Adami purchased a building from one of the original eight founders of Locke, Lee Bing, and Al the Wop’s was established in the exact same building Bing built in 1915. Known for cutting off guest’s neckties, or stirring ladies drinks with his fingers, the unpredictable Adami turned Al’s into a favorite watering hole in the Delta. Food is served seven days a week and peanut butter and apricot jam are offered as a condiment to the tasty steak sandwiches just as it was back then.
Pennies from heaven
Upon his death in 1961, Al’s nephews took over the biz and made their own mark in the colorful Locke history, where bikers have been welcomed into the ancient bar to do a burnout or two on the hardwood floors. Dollar bills are stuck on the ceiling by bartender, and now co-owner Richard, who folds a weighty coin into the bill with a thumbtack and then guests sling it into the lathe slat up above. The heavy coins rain down on unsuspecting imbibers all during the day after the bills (still stuck to the ceiling) eventually unfold and release the weight, which turns cocktail hour into an adventure all its own.
It’s a rare day (especially on weekends) when you can’t find a row of motorcycles lined up out front and a crowd gathered. A mangy old dog the locals call “Mayor” waddles along the slanted sidewalks and greets visitors. The entire town is slowly sinking into the Delta dirt and the buildings sag against their ancient construction. The bar at Al’s has been tilting noticeably over the years and if one doesn’t pay attention, your drink could slide away from you. Locke is neither a tourist trap nor a ghost town, but is full of all the character of a well-worn community that’s survived the evolution of a city and state’s creation. So, liver lover or not, give Al the Wop’s a look-see next time you’re in the neighborhood.
