Balanced dishes meant my intestinal fortitude wasn’t tested

Mark Laba
Province

SZECHUAN CHILI

Where: 802 West 6th Ave.

Payment/reservations: Major credit cards, 604-874-3737

Drinks: Beer and wine.

Hours: Mon.-Sat., lunch 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m., dinner 4:30 p.m.-10:30 p.m., closed Sun.

– – –

The Szechuan Province is famous for many things besides the misspelling of its name. Like, well – really I don’t know what else besides its excellent cuisine. This is a culinary tradition that dates back to when General Tso was raising chickens as a young lad and it’s a culinary journey that seems to say, “you will like this food but you will pay the next day by surrendering every inch of your gastro-intestinal tract.”

In fact, sometimes the food is so fiery I think Szechuan should be a verb and not a noun as in “Get out of my way or I’ll Szechuan your sorry ass.” The dishes are like having the tastebuds go a couple of rounds with the culinary equivalent of Bruce Lee and I sometimes think fire walkers would rather ramble over burning coals than a plate of Dai Ching chicken.

So I set out for my great Szechuan experience to this eatery some friends had recommended. Took along an old pal, Zoltar Schvitz, who changed his first name to Zoltar after claiming he was abducted by aliens. “There I was,” he told me, “watching Wheel of Fortune and right in the middle of Vanna White turning the letters, I was hit by this blinding light. Next thing I knew I was on a huge spacecraft where I was probed and given new body parts and a bathing suit to match. Now I’m able to eat pork rinds, which I couldn’t stand before, and I seem to have developed a fondness for drinking motor oil.” Just the man I was looking for to try some spicy Szechuan cooking.

Stepped into this nondescript joint that submits to the perfunctory amount of wall art to categorize it as atmospheric even if it borders on the barren side of decoration. Furnishings have all the character of an outlet store layaway plan weekend sale meaning I couldn’t remember any of this stuff if my life at the hands of space aliens depended on it. What I do remember though are the dark, murky sauces that seemed to threaten with a menacing heat much in the same way that gazing at roiling thunderhead clouds obscuring the horizon promise a torrential storm.

I thought, boy oh boy, Zoltar and I are in for it though with his new alien body parts this should be a breeze for him. Turns out the bark was worse than the bite but that’s OK because really Szechuan cuisine should embody a variety of experiences for the palate.

For example, the beef and broccoli with black bean dish ($8.75). Simple concoction, as familiar as the people you see on the 7 a.m. bus, but in this instance the broccoli was so fresh and tasty, cooked to perfection with just the right amount of veggie crispness and each bite burst with the flavours of sesame oil, garlic and chili that it was almost enlightening.

The Dai Ching chicken ($8.95) was the most fearsome of the bunch visually, a veritable primordial bog of spices and ingredients, some of which are still a mystery to me. Complexity of flavours and a well-balanced heat made this dish great.

The moo shu pork ($9.95) was OK although a little on the glutinous side but the eggplant and tofu ($8.95) with chili and garlic sauce was tantalizing from the first aromatic sniff and just as savoury once I got it between my mandibles. And the Shanghai-style chow mein was like having the belly caressed by soft noodles and soy.

It’s a huge menu as befits an eatery attempting to reflect a huge province in China but, as Zoltar says, once you’ve been to outer space as a guest on an alien spaceship the world just seems that much smaller. Although he does concede the food is better than on his intergalactic airline meal.

THE BOTTOM LINE: Chasing the chili dragon

RATINGS: Food: B; Service: B+; Atmosphere: C

© The Vancouver Province 2008

Two Chefs and a Table provides a fishbowl of comfort against the harsh reality outside

Mia Stainsby
Sun

TWO CHEFS AND A TABLE

Overall: 3 1/2

Food: 44

Ambience: 3 1/2

Service: 3 1/2

Price: $$

305 Alexander St., 778-233-1303. www.twochefsandatable.com. Open for lunch Monday to Friday; brunch Saturday and Sunday; dinner, Wednesday to Saturday.

Restaurant visits are conducted anonymously and interviews are done by phone. Restaurants are rated out of five stars.

– – –

I felt like an intruder, guilty of a B&E. Two Chefs and a Table is a charming little bistro-style restaurant that just opened with a solid menu of good-value meals. It’s funky and warm and friendly and it’s right in the middle of edgy Railtown, on Alexander Street, where the sidewalks are the living rooms and bedrooms of the homeless and where, as we arrived, an elderly man was being treated by paramedics on the street. On a pole outside the restaurant, bylaw signs instruct people not to camp or set up tents or sell merchandise.

Two Chefs and a Table, though a tiny space, has expansive windows, so you are in a fishbowl of middle-class comfort against the hard bite of reality outside. This is bushwhacking into virgin restaurant territory.

The tiny building was previously owned by Sean Heather, of the Irish Heather, Shebeen and Salt. He was going to open a place called Pepper until he got busy moving the Irish Heather and Shebeen across the street into new digs. (Salt, by the way, is plunk in the middle of edgy Blood Alley and happens to be a raging success.)

Anyway, back to Two Chefs. It’s open for lunch, brunch and dinner and the principals also cater.

I’ve only tried dinner and, as I said, I noted the great value, particularly the five-course prix fixes, which change regularly and cost $36 to $44, depending on what’s on offer. (Prices tend to rise with fall and winter dishes.) A la carte mains I tried were $18 and $22.

The owner/chefs are Karl Gregg (who cooked at the Red Door) and Al Bosomworth (who cooked at Feenie’s), and I’d say their food is fine bistro. Flavours are clean, plating is carefully designed against a palette of white porcelain and the flavours come home.

My fish chowder featured fresh halibut and salmon; their house-cured salmon (a little chewier than others I’ve had) was very good; Polderside chicken didn’t require much, as its flavour speaks for itself; Hecate Strait halibut seared with miso looked great and I enjoyed it, but a guy might have been left wanting more.

My partner ordered the prix fixe twice and there were no repeat dishes, except for dessert, in visits a week apart. The first time he was treated to a shaved asparagus with Grana Padano (cheese) salad; pasta with fresh prawns; vine-ripened tomato and goat cheese salad; duck rillette with berry compote and, to finish, a soft cheesecake.

On another evening, he coursed through roasted beet salad with orange and goat cheese; beef tenderloin bolognese pasta; halibut and cod cakes with dill vinaigrette; apple-grilled pork chop with veggies and fennel apple cider jus and, once again, soft cheesecake for dessert.

Desserts are thin on the ground. There was only one, both times we visited. There was one server covering the 27-seat restaurant and he wins a Mr. Congenialty honourable mention. A cheerful disposition goes a long way on the floor.

The wine list is an ever-changing tableau as it conforms to new menus.

© The Vancouver Sun 2008

 

Joanne Sasvari
Sun

AT A GLANCE

49th Parallel Coffee Roasters is at 2152 West Fourth Ave., 604-420-4901, www.49thparallelroasters.com.

For more info on Krups and the other cities in the Krups Kup of Excellence, visit www.krups.ca. To learn more about the Canadian Barista Championships, go to www.coffeeteashow.ca/barista_championship.html.

– – –

A year ago, Vince Piccolo had barely opened the doors to his chic little Kitsilano café when it was named the best coffee shop in town.

This week, 49th Parallel Coffee Roasters won the Krups Kup of Excellence again, proving that last year’s win was no single-shot wonder.

“It’s really nice. It really surprises me. I know we try our best, but I don’t know what our competitors are doing out there,” says Piccolo who is as busy running his international wholesale coffee business as he is with the cafe.

He may not have time to try the java at the city’s countless Artigianos and JJ Beans and Starbucks, but that’s not stopping other baristas from pulling up a seat in his turquoise-and-chocolate-accented shop on Fourth Avenue.

“We’re pretty much the barista hangout in the city,” Piccolo says with a laugh. “We must be doing something right if they’re all coming here.”

Piccolo isn’t the only one who’s doing something right in this coffee-loving city.

In a country crazy for coffee — Canadians drink an average of 86 litres a year each of the dark brew — Vancouverites have a special relationship with their caffeine. In fact, the organizers of the Krups Kup, which is also being held in Calgary, Toronto, Montreal and Halifax this month, consider Vancouver the “most accelerated coffee culture” in Canada.

(Krups, which is best known for manufacturing coffee makers for home use, also sponsors the Canadian Barista Championships Oct. 21 and 22 in Toronto; Piccolo’s brother Sammy, already a three-time Canadian champion and world champion finalist, will be representing Western Canada.)

This is the third year the Krups Kup has been held in Vancouver. This year’s team of judges, comprising sommeliers, chefs and media, including this writer, visited six percolating hotspots to sip the espresso and sample the scene. They evaluated each place on décor, staff, presentation and, of course, the taste of the coffee.

Each café had its strengths: for instance, Prado, with its elegantly stripped-down décor, added a cool chic to Commercial Drive, while JJ Bean offered great coffee in a casual setting on Main Street, and the Elysian Room at 5th and Burrard was one of the coziest hangouts around.

Meanwhile, over on Hornby Street, the bustling Café Artigiano had last year’s national champion barista Michael Yung leading his team in making quality coffees, fast, for the busy downtown crowd.

“There’s a lot of really great coffee connoisseurs in town,” Yung says. “They have a real appreciation for the craft of the drink.”

The surprise of the day was a funky new joint called Gene in the pointy building at the equally pointy intersection of Main and Kingsway. This understatedly urban coffee shop produced some of the best espresso of the contest — deep, dark and rich, with a luscious crema and no bitterness at all.

But at the end of the end of the day, it was 49th Parallel, with its obsessive attention to detail, that proved a winner again.

“Our whole focus is on how it tastes in the cup,” Piccolo says.

Reflecting back over the past year, he notes, “A year ago, nobody knew who we were. Now we’re a very, very busy little café.”

© The Vancouver Sun 2008

 

Servers are harried, but food is fresh and tasty

Mia Stainsby
Sun

SUSHI GARDEN

JAPANESE GARDEN

4635 Kingsway, Burnaby; 604-436-0104.

It’s not a super-sleuth’s method of sussing out a good place to eat, but lineups out a restaurant door grab my attention.

It’s either a case of lots of food, cheap or of good food, cheap.

Sushi Garden, on Kingsway in Burnaby, is the latter.

As we drove by, the entrance to the restaurant was buzzing like a hornet’s nest and here it was,

2 p.m, supposedly past the lunch-hour rush. I was famished and it seemed like reason enough to double back.

I found that one must not go expecting great service or even a distracted “Irashaiii!!!” There is confusion at the door and the harried servers have little time for niceties and I can, without reservation, call one a frowning, young grump.

Once we were seated, however, our server was sweeter, had time to smile and impart more warmth and welcome.

By the food on tables, I could see the sushi was well made and had that glint of freshness, and so I became even more hungry.

Obviously, the food and the prices are worth the lacklustre service because people politely waited.

To give an idea of what you’d spend, maki sushi rolls are mostly around $4 and combination meals are around $8. You can order a nine-piece salmon sashimi dish, for example, for $8. Apparently, lineups are even longer for dinner.

We had some sushi that was, as we anticipated, fresh, although some of the larger maki sushi could have been rolled a little more snugly. Tako (octopus) sunomono, often tough and unpleasant, was tender and tasty. It was lunch and we couldn’t eat a lot, but judging by food on tables around us, the sashimi glistened and the tempura batter looked crisply delicate.

The restaurant is open daily for lunch and dinner.

© The Vancouver Sun 2008

 

‘Are you going to eat the eyeball,’ my son asked as I kept my cool

Mark Laba
Province

TENHACHI

Where: 1125 West 12th Ave., Vancouver

Payment/reservations: Major credit cards, 604-742-0234

Drinks: Fully licensed.

Hours: 7 a.m.-1 p.m. for breakfast and lunch, 5 p.m.-9:30 p.m. dinner every day except no dinner on Mondays

– – –

There’s a reason for the Internet besides finding out if George W. Bush really secretly fathered Lindsay Lohan’s love child. Especially if you’re a food writer like myself and are about to go out and order something you’ve never heard of and didn’t Google the thing first. So imagine my surprise when a very large fish head on a plate was brought before me, although you couldn’t tell I was surprised by my face.

No siree. I kept up the bored, suave expression of a man of the world, accustomed to ordering all manner of strange delicacy. As the fish head was placed before me, its large, bulbous and unnervingly glutinous eye gazing upwards, my face, if you’re good at reading faces, merely said, “Why of course I meant to order that — just the thing I was expecting.” My four-year-old son and my wife knew better than that.

“Are you going to eat the eyeball?” my son asked, poking the gelatinous orb with a chopstick. I actually didn’t know if they ate the eyeball in Japan but I said, ‘No, of course not.” But for good measure when the waitress came by I said, “My son wants to know if you’re supposed to eat the eyeball,” passing the buck to the innocent so to speak. I didn’t want one of those situations where, after finishing my meal, if you can call a large fish head a meal, the waitress came to take my plate away and would say, “Oh, you didn’t eat the eyeball. That’s the best part,” and reluctantly I would have to say, “Oh, the eyeball, how did I miss that,” and then have to slug the thing back.

This is just part of the strange journey Peaches, Small Fry Eli and I took visiting this place that looks like a fish-and-chip shop designed by Liberace but serves up eclectic Japanese food along with Western fare like cheeseburgers, lasagna and chicken strips. Weird? It gets even weirder.

The restaurant is housed on the main floor of the Shaughnessy Village Hotel/B&B, whose business card reads, “For Thinkers, Winners & Fun-No More Lonely Times,” and grounds that boast a nine-hole mini crazy golf course, Cupid’s Gardens and a 250-foot water course for adult toy yacht races. Let’s just say mystery abounds here.

The restaurant has been taken over by the original owner of the fine Hachibei Japanese Restaurant on West 16th, so amidst the strange surroundings of ornate drapery, a Louis XIV knockoff lobby and odd catch-of-the-day nautical knickknacks dotting the restaurant, emerges some very intriguing Japanese cooking that seems as out of place as a sumo wrestler in a ballet. Think steamed monkfish liver, mountain yam with mozuku seaweed or simmered kawahagi (also known as the thread-sail filefish).

I’d heard that some of the specialty fish were flown in from Japan weekly and if I had a chance, I’d try the grilled amberjack neck. So that’s what I ordered ($17.95). But why was the head attached, I wondered. And what happened to the rest of the fish? Was it no good? Was it too unappetizing to put on a plate?

Nevertheless, the meat of the neck was succulent and savoury and as a combo plate it arrived with Japanese pickles, Japanese winter squash, rice and organic miso soup. Small Fry Eli was glad he ordered the cheeseburger.

Peaches sampled Dinner Box C ($13.95) with chicken teriyaki, a California Roll, assorted tempura, mini spring rolls, spinach gomaae and miso soup. As well, we ordered a mango sushi roll with salmon, avocado and more that was delicious.

All deemed tasty and the spring rolls were a strange addition along with the homemade crème caramel for dessert but then nothing surprises me at this place unless Liberace were to suddenly walk in looking for a mini-golf partner.

– – –

THE BOTTOM LINE: When the going gets weird it’s time to eat weird fish parts.

RATINGS: Food: B+ Service: B+ Atmosphere: C+

© The Vancouver Province 2008

 

Additions to Belgian waffles, coffee on the original menu have resulted in long lineups

Mia Stainsby
Sun

– MEDINA CAFE

556 Beatty St., 604-879-3114.

Open for breakfast, brunch and lunch Tuesday to Sunday. www.medinacafe.com

Overall 4

Food 4

Ambience 4

Service 3

Price $

Restaurant visits are conducted anonymously and interviews are done by phone. Restaurants are rated out of five stars.

– – –

I couldn’t wait for Medina Cafe to kick-start its kitchen, offering more than the Belgian waffles and coffee it began with.

It finally roared to life last month and surprise, surprise! Breakfasts, brunches and lunches are so busy, you’ll be cooling your heels in a lineup, resisting a horrible temptation to wrestle a passing server to the ground to get at the enticing food.

The reason for the buzz is Nicos Shuermans. He’s given us Chambar, a great-value restaurant that’s added much allure to the city’s dining scene. He (and wife Karri) crafted a stand-out package with great service, nice digs and delicious food. Medina is in partnership with Robbie Kane, a former server at Chambar. It’s named after the walled, market sections of many North African cities, and this venture is more about casual comfort food and well-fed mornings and afternoons.

Who would have thought Moroccan-influenced breakfasts would create lineups? Even I, normally loath to vacate my cozy nest to go out for breakfast or brunch on weekends, would gladly return for the heartily delicious food here, especially as the weather chills. Medina, like Chambar, sits on a slightly edgy street and while we waited in line, a rake-thin woman in a tiny tank top twitched and shivered in neurological chaos in a doorway in the rain.

Meanwhile, I went on to fatten up on my rustic breakfast of two poached eggs with spicy Moroccan meatballs, grilled focaccia (thick and spongy) and a yogurt cucumber salad. The meatballs arrived in a small tagine pot. I broke the eggs and swirled yolk into the tomato sauce.

Across from me, my partner similarly smooshed his lightly fried eggs into his cassoulet of baked beans, duck sausage, andouille sausage, bacon and baked beans. It’s smack-your-lips and wipe-sauce-off-your-chin food to eat with gusto.

I became a little bleary-brained after I’d mopped up every morsel of sauce with my bread and you know, I’ve forgotten what transpired afterwards. I know it was dessert. I just can’t remember anything about it.

Of course, you could be more restrained and order the Belgian waffles that are still on the menu.

I had a more clear-headed lunch with a friend one day. She had Les Merguez — a flatbread-wrapped merguez sausage with baba ganoush, grilled haloumi (cheese), grilled eggplant and tabbouleh. I had a generous bowl of saffrony bouillabaisse with grilled focaccia and a side salad. A lot of food for ladies who lunch, perhaps, but we were no ladies and we went on to share a cherry pie, nice and tall and taut, but not as cherry-licious as it could have been.

Other lunch dishes that vie for attention are the Tarte Feuilettée, with cardamom chicken, ricotta, caramelized onions and spinach. The Fricasse offers two fried eggs on braised short ribs, roasted potatoes, caramelized onions, arugula and smoked applewood cheddar. I don’t see a lot for vegetarians except perhaps the grilled veggie antipasto. However, on the breakfast menu, they could opt for the Libanais (soft boiled egg, chickpea salad, baba ganoush, tabouleh and fried pita).

Average cost of dishes are in the mid-teens but the waffles (one) go for $3.15 and $1 for each topping.

Shuermans says that in the evenings Medina can be used as a private party room (own music, servers, menu) which would be ultra cool. He’s also going to offer beer pairing meals twice a month starting this month. “We’ll have half pints so people can try more and we’ll have richer food to match the beers.”

Before summer and family vacations began, Medina hosted a once-a-month Freedom Night where parents could drop off their kidlets who were treated to kid food and entertainment and fun babysitters. That will probably start up again in the fall.

© The Vancouver Sun 2008

 

Michi Sushi plays into the hands of people looking for a tasty and healthy meal on the run

Mia Stainsby
Sun

MICHI SUSHI

1513 West Broadway

604-736-4244

www.michi-sushi.com

– – –

As far as I’m concerned, the looks-aren’t-everything platitude doesn’t apply to food. The eyes get hungry, too.

After working as a bartender in glam restaurants like West, Lumiere and Chow, Kenneth Cho couldn’t help but have an eye for food. So when the young man (28 years old) decided to start a business, he went the route of fast-food sushi.

Michi Sushi (which means “street sushi” in Japanese) is right in the thick of pedestrian traffic at Broadway and Granville; it’s made to eat on the run. Michi sushi rolls aren’t cut into bite-sized pieces — they’re single rolls and you eat them like “burritos,” in Cho’s words, no chopsticks required. They’re displayed just-so in attractive trays and they’re not the same old, same old.

Of course, sushi is best made fresh, but if you’re more interested in speedy sushi, you can point and pay and run at Michi. I once went around closing time and truth to tell, the pre-made sushi (in a cooled display case) wasn’t at its best, albeit, discounted.

“Obviously Vancouverites love sushi but convenience foods can be well-presented and healthy,” says Cho, referring to the brown rice in about half the choices.

“Everyone’s been talking about the prawn and avocado sushi with lemon mayo,” says Cho, suggesting that might be a good one to try. Other Michi specials are the beef sukiyaki roll with marinated short-rib meat, enoki mushrooms and green onions; and wild sockeye salmon with cream cheese and cucumber. Vegans return for the marinated tofu with red pepper, cucumber and avocado roll and the marinated yam, shiitake mushroom, spinach and asparagus rolls. Sushi rolls are $3 to $3.50 or three for $9. There are 12 to choose from, as well as a sashimi salad of tuna and wild salmon with soy ginger vinaigrette. The soy sauce is packaged in mini plastic fish squirt bottles, the kind you’d see on Japan and Cathay Pacific airlines.

Cho says if business keeps up, he’d like to open more Michi Sushi outlets. This one is tiny, with three window seats and dressed in clean whites with a mirror wall and lime green floors.

“If Vancouver likes me, I’d love to open a few more and see people with Starbucks coffee in one hand and a Michi sushi roll in the other.”

Michi is open from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m., Monday to Saturday.

© The Vancouver Sun 2008

 

The best lunch I’ve had . . . go ahead, just ask Peter Lorre!

Mark Laba
Province

CAFE MEDINA

Where: 556 Beatty St., Vancouver

Payment/reservations: Major credit cards, 604-879-3114

Drinks: Coffee and tea.

Hours: Tues.-Fri., 8 a.m.-5 p.m. (lunch served until 3 p.m.); Sat.-Sun., 9 a.m.-4 p.m. (brunch served until 3 p.m.); closed Mon.

– – –

Europe is famed for its cafes, especially those of the Parisian persuasion. You know those places where, once they’ve glommed onto the fact that you’re a tourist (easy to do when you’re wearing a fanny pack the size of France), they charge you thirty bucks for a coffee that comes in a doll house-size cup and pop open a Pillsbury Croissant tube in the back (or, as its known in France, Le Dough Boy Amis avec Sodium Benzoate). That is after you’ve tracked down a waiter, which could take days, sometimes weeks. You could spend your entire European vacation sitting in a café waiting for service. If you want your bill, that takes another month.

Now many places in Vancouver have attempted to emulate the European café traditions, minus the attitude, without giving up the quirky personality traits and atmosphere that just doesn’t grow on North American trees no matter how many you cut down to furnish the place. But along comes this eatery, care of the same folks who brought you Chambar. Like Chambar, it mixes the best of European tradition with inflections of North African and Middle Eastern sensibilities. Walking in I could imagine bumping into Peter Lorre and Sidney Greenstreet mulling it over in a corner plotting to get their hands on the Maltese Falcon.

Aged brick and wood rise to lofty heights, steel bistro-style chairs and a long nifty banquette seat bordered along the top with antiquated gold-flecked mirror for grounding, some spiffy and eclectic artwork hanging that evokes both times gone by and modern living and a clock over the coffee bar that looks old enough to have been checked by Napoleon before he set off for Waterloo.

The menu is not big and it’s only a breakfast and lunch shindig, along with their great Belgian waffles, but what they do they do with aplomb and exquisite flavour. In fact, it’s the best lunch I’ve had since I came out of my Hostess Ho Ho coma and wolfed down three-day-old cold Chinese food.

I tried the Les Boulettes ($13), spicy Moroccan meatballs lolling in a kind of ragout of roasted veggies and tomatoes with a dollop of yogurt in the centre, and a hummus-and-cucumber salad riding sidecar. It arrived with all the pomp and circumstance a Moroccan meatball deserves — that is beneath the funnel-shaped top of a tagine dish. The flavours were transporting with all the rich textures and aromas of an Arabic marketplace — like taking the taste buds on a magic carpet ride.

Peaches zeroed in on the Fricasse ($15), consisting of two fried eggs atop braised short ribs with roasted potatoes, caramelized onions, arugula and smoked apple-wood cheddar. I, of course, took liberal stabs at her food, too. It’s all seemingly simple on the surface but you can’t judge a short rib by its egg cover. Together with the globs of melted cheddar, tubers for texture and onions cooked to sweetness, this dish was phenomenal.

Food as haunting as the Muezzin’s call, this place begs for a return visit to try the flat bread-wrapped merguez sausage with baba ganoush, haloumi cheese, grilled eggplant and tabbouleh or the curry roasted chicken with orzo rice, cherry tomatoes and veggies. All in all a great mix of European charm with North African and Middle Eastern exoticness, without the alarm of being a stranger in a strange land.

© The Vancouver Province 2008

 

Maybe I caught popular spot on a bad day

Mark Laba
Province

SWEET CHILI CAFE

Where: 5438 Victoria Dr.

Payment/reservations: Cash only, 778-371-8092

Drinks: Soft drinks

Hours: Tues.-Fri., lunch 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m., dinner 5:30 p.m.-9 p.m., Sat.-Sun., 5:30 p.m.-9 p.m., closed Mondays

Incongruity is the key to having the senses slapped silly in the face of mundanity. Which means you’re going along with your usual day, nose to the old grindstone when suddenly a man waltzing with an inflatable pig emerges from the Skytrain, winking as he glides past you moving to the inaudible lilting harmonies of “The Blue Danube.” There’s not much that’ll make you look up from your Starbucks, but this might do the trick.

A bit extreme, you might say (if he were waltzing with, say, a walrus wearing a chiffon prom dress, you might look the other way yawning), but even the minor incongruities can send shock waves through the brain. So it was with Peaches and me as we approached this tiny (and by tiny I mean about as big as an organ grinder monkey’s underpants) eatery. Peaches spotted a place across the street that was both a convenience store and a fish shop. By fish I don’t mean the fish you eat but rather pet fish like the kind you take for a walk on a leash in your bathtub.

“Who would buy aquarium fish from a convenience store?” Peaches pondered. At that moment two people came out of the shop carrying a large container imprinted with the warning, Handle With Care, Live Fish.

“They would, I guess,” I ventured.

Our next vexing vision occurred at the counter of the restaurant. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place — well really two holes in the wall being as there’s one to get in and one leading to the kitchen. With this type of venue you expect the most rudimentary of attire when it comes to your waiter or, in this case, counterperson. So when a young man with a rather elaborate Indonesian-style headscarf accented with gold designs emerged from the back room, Peaches and I were both taken offguard. There was a kind of regality to the head adornment that seemed out of place with the meagre surroundings, like putting on a tuxedo to mow the lawn or catching Prince Charles in a pay toilet.

Not that the attire didn’t make sense. After all, this was an Indonesian restaurant, but essentially there’s nothing in the place besides four tables with nice batik tablecloths, a few paintings, a plant, a floor-model air purifier, a microwave and a cash register. Not enough room to swing a cat or a Balinese shadow puppet and in the décor-department a little off the mark, albeit sincere in its determination.

I was hoping this bit of panache would also be evident in the food. So off we went with two starters — chicken satay ($6.95) and spring rolls ($4.95). Both were excellent with a wonderful homemade and spicy peanut sauce for the chicken skewers and the veggie and shrimp spring rolls done to a perfect crispiness. So far, so good.

Next up an order of beef rendang ($7.95), a dish I happen to love almost more than my wife and some nasi kari ayam otherwise known as green curry chicken ($7.50). Now if Ron Popeil had been dining with me instead of Peaches, I’m sure he would have exclaimed, “By gosh, they must be using one of my food dehydrators in the kitchen.” I know there are versions of beef rendang where the sauce is cooked away until all that’s left is a spicy and aromatic paste, but the process is supposed to leave the meat tender. This beef was as dry as a well-used saddle and as tough as the guy who sat in it. The chicken was a bit more tender but only slightly and there was no white meat. I always think a mix of white and dark makes for a happy curry plate. I’m not exactly sure what went wrong here. Some folks I know were enthusiastic about the place, so maybe I caught it on a bad day. Or maybe the cook was trying out a new Ronco product and things went awry in the kitchen.

THE BOTTOM LINE:

RATINGS: Food: C Service: B Atmosphere: C

© The Vancouver Province 2008

 

TRATTORIA Revitalized Italian cooking brings out bliss and shows off taste of local ingredients

Mia Stansby
Sun

Recently, I wrote about the hot action around Trattoria Italian Kitchen on West Fourth, where really good-deal meals and super-friendly service created bonfires of excitement inside the room and out the door.

And now there’s Cibo in the Moda Hotel, another great little trattoria. It’s part of a welcome resurrection of French and Italian food in the city, and these cuisines have returned in better form than ever. The focus is on fabulous local ingredients and cooking that opens up their inner beauty. That’s always been the way in Italy, and now it’s the way of the revitalized Italian food here.

Cibo is a little more “downtown-y” and refined — and, certainly, more expensive — than Trat Italian Kitchen (although still casual).

My first visit was just after its quiet opening, and it needed more buzz. The joint was not jumping.

“Maybe a reviewer will come in,” a hotel guest said to the hostess as she checked out the place for dinner later. (That was the one time I really wanted to out myself as a critic, since a neighbouring diner was going on and on about how all restaurant critics are fat. “I’m a Size 2,” I wanted to inform Ms. Know-It-All. But I digress.)

On a later visit to Cibo, we blissed out over many of the dishes. The chef, Neil Taylor, obviously takes pride in what he does. (He has cooked at the celebrated River Cafe in London, where Jamie Oliver was discovered and where fresh, vibrant ingredients are most important.)

Taylor’s skill showed in the first food to hit the table, the bread. (Actually, it was ciabatta.) It was oh-my-God delicious. A nice crunch to the crust, tall and spongy inside. It came with excellent olive oil. Of course, I was nearly full by the time I finished half the basket, but, my goodness, was it ever worth it.

Another surprise was the calf’s liver. I normally take a wide detour around it, thanks to having been tortured with it as a kid. But this was good, its mild flavour enhanced with pancetta.

“Silk pasta sheets” with yellow beans, potatoes and pesto took pasta to another level. It really was sheer, like silk.

Another pasta, lobster tagliatelle, featured lovely noodles, but the lobster was tough.

“Smashed” heirloom tomato and basil salad was transcendent. It was perfectly seasoned with quality salt — so good, in fact, that I tipped the bowl, glug-glugging the remaining juices, cutting loose from civilized behaviour.

Prawn brodo (broth) was delicate and featured very fresh prawns.

My seared scallops were large and plump and fine but didn’t distinguish themselves.

And I’ve never been infected by the eagerness for stuffed zucchini flower (with ricotta, in this case). Although it’s fun to cook with a large flower blossom, the result is too limp and lame. I can’t say it was any different here. I’d rather it were stuffed with something sturdier.

Char-grilled leg of lamb with potato, artichoke, leek, fennel and salsa verde was delicious, and I liked the rustic offering of baked ling cod with potatoes, olives, capers, majoram and lemon.

Desserts were a pleasure. Chocolate Nemesis is a mousse morphing into a ganache; the lemon tart is expertly made, albeit a recurring dessert in many restaurants.

Sebastien Le Goff is the man behind Cibo; he also runs the smart little wine bar, Uva, on the other side of the hotel.

(Actually, Moda Hotel is bursting with designer food and wine. You could easily become weak-kneed over at Viti Wine and Lager Store, next door to Cibo. It has 150 imported beers, endless whiskies and a serious selection of wines. My guy left with bags clinking with bottles of Belgian beers.)

Cibo features many of these delicious beers, as well as a choice list of Italian wines, backed by some bottles of B.C. wine and a stellar selection of prosecco and other Italian bubblies (more than 30 offerings).

The coffee’s worth mentioning too. It’s incredibly good!