It was like old times, having lunch at Burma Superstar with my old friend filmmaker Saul Landau on the main street of Alameda (which actually is an island). The food was brilliantly spiced Burmese cuisine, flecked with red chiles, handfuls of fried garlic, tendrils of calamari, and glazed bits of stir-fried meats.
Not since the heyday of India Joze had I tasted such a freshly wok’d series of dishes that were utterly impossible to resist.
Burma Superstar—great name, great food—is a mini-chain of three eateries. One in SF, one in Oakland, and a very smart, high-ceilinged one in Alameda. Packed with an appreciative crowd of ravenous patrons, all inhaling beautiful dish after beautiful dish, Burma Superstar was on top of every move. [This photo shows our half-eaten order of chile glazed lamb, stir-fried with garlic, jalapeños, red chiles (!!!) and basil. Stupendous!]
Service was great. 
Presentation—some dishes on huge banana leaves—was good-looking. The star dish of our lunch—a creation called Tea Leaf Salad—was brought to the table by our staffer in unconstructed form. The large platter held little islands of chopped romaine, fermented shrimp, jalapeños, roasted peanuts, fresh tomatoes, and a central mound of fermented tea leaves that had oozed into a silky sauce. After I’d admired the plate, our server tossed all of the ingredients together, squeezed an entire lemon over everything and invited us to feast.
It was colossal, that’s all I can say. We didn’t speak, we smiled a lot, we moved our chopsticks as fast as we could, we ate everything on the plate.
In between getting this glorious spice fix, we shared coconut rice —presented as an alabaster globe with a tiny flower stuck in the top—along with tender calamari in a feather-light crisp batter, which we dipped into a sweet/spicy red sauce. Also the shared plate of stir-fried lamb [see above], glistening in basil and chile sauce.
I ate until I literally couldn’t eat any more. But I wanted to.
