jamiemaw

Travel is broadening and eating out abroad more so. If restaurants are barometers of local economic performance (the famous Economist Big Mac index being one bellwether), the calibration of the local dining culture--in its relative profusion and diversity of restaurants, markets and shops-- precisely speaks to the calibration of local culture. Food is the perfect porthole. Of course we can travel to the food, or let it find us, in the most recent wave of immigrant-fuelled restaurants in our home cities. Unfortunately, I don't assume that travel will become easier and cheaper. For North Americans especially, currency and security issues and rising fuel expenses mitigate against that notion, both for now and in the forseeable future. For every traveller, there are 10 tourists. It's the tourist who has his nose pressed up against the pane of safety glass of all-inclusive or cruise dining, but the traveller who gets lost in order to become found.

The posts upthread seem near-unaimous in praise of the sexy room and food at Nu. Last Tuesday, following the mid-day meal, however, one couple apparently took matters into their own hands while simultaneously taking the meaning of Nu to another level. "It must have been a great lunch." So began a report regarding said couple having relations (actually, each other) in the women's washroom. Management handled the matter discretely, and--much like the television ad--the toilet seat was safely returned to its preferred horizontal position. What to call this spontaneous reaction to quality food and drink? Short Rib Viagra? Second Marrows Bridge? Tarte Sátan? No, staff, it seems, are happier with an appellation that references both the romance of aviation while also paying homage to Nu's older sib: 'The C-Level Club'.

Just imagine a chain of more than 50 restaurants, conveniently located and pleasantly decorated. The greens program is 100% organic (and has been for a decade), the wine list is a model of clarity and value (designed by two outstanding wine experts), the servers are tested frequently on product and service knowledge, and the development chef is a former head of both his country's Bocuse d'Or and Culinary Olympics team. There is not a microwave to be seen and the deep fryer only fires frites. There are few commisary foods, with the exception of soups--their clam chowder though, is a superb meal and fresh. While cynics might call Earls only the best and brightest of the concept bunch of three-ring binder chains, I think they do an extraordinary job in serving flavourful, good quality food for all the citizens. Earls, Cactus Club Cafe, The Keg, Joey's Global, Saltlik, Red Door, Milestone's and OPM are useful examples of how good chain dining can be. But it is also, depressingly, proof of your point. There are few American chains that have been able to get a toehold in western Canadian markets because the standards of sourcing and distribution of quality ingredients, service training (a story in itself), decor and the cooking itself are simply too high. That being said, there's hope: I've noticed on my frequent American travels that the line-ups are longest at the best chains: a recent report indicates that the average line-up at PF Chang's is 57 minutes and that, as a result, the chain is now taking reservations. Salty, sweet, sour, and bitter seemingly resonates more strongly than factory Alfredo, and even more so than the vacuous (and now bankrupt) Planet Hollywood and Rainforest Cafe chains.

Jason, thanks for your intriguing and illuminating post. This is eGullet at its best--views arriving from around the world to describe regional variations on a universal theme. Could it be that you and I are products of Asian fusion? You part-Asian with an occidental surname, me with an Asian (sounding) surname who is still an occident waiting to happen? Jamie

In other words, there is no New York style along similar lines to the Vancouver or California styles, which as Jamie pointed out aren't considered "fusion" anymore, but normal. That said, I'm sure Vancouverites, like Californians, enjoy "authentic" Thai food very much. ← Perhaps I should have used a different word than "craving." I'm sure there are Vancouverites of all persuasions who crave an authentic Thai meal just as much as any New Yorker, but do they insist on its authenticity all the time? Do they spurn it for not being authentic? Do they make a fetish of finding the most reputably authentic replica of home cooked Thai food in the manner of breeders of show dogs or bluebloods searching for the perfect mate for their heirs, or can they sit back and enjoy the amalgam that's developing. I certainly enjoy finding vestiges of authentic food the way I enjoy finding vestiges of any old civilization. All the better to find a living vestige. I am also a sharp critic of fusion food having had so many dishes that offend my palate. Nevertheless, I am excited by the new and by the flux in our culture. I am learning to understand why I should not be offended by western vegetables in dishes in Chinatown, nor by bok choy in French restaurants uptown. ← First, perhaps 'fused' is to individual dishes (and failed home ec experiments) as merged is to menus, restaurants and then whole regional cuisines, or at least to clearly identifiable elements of them. Those elements are largely ingredient driven, although technique (and often, large woks, tandooris and curry pots) are involved too. Chefs arriving in new cultures often struggle to find facsimile ingredient for substitution in their 'authentic' repertoire. Voila: something new evolves. That might be why the newer cities of the Pacific Rim have such rapidly evolving cuisines: Authentic skill + new ingredients = excitement. That's underscored because those failed home ec experiments won't last long on a menu. As Bux points out, spaghetti with tomato sauce was fused, but has now merged into the mainstream. Deconstruct the ingredients, and you'll see tomatoes that originated in the Americas and Durum wheat grown in Canada and exported to Italy to make the pasta component. The basil is probably local. As for the steak frites, if it's eaten with Dijon mustard, the mustard seed was also likely grown in Saskatchewan. The nature ('authentic') vs. nurture ('evolutionary') goes on. Of course, fusion, in its most base sense, has transpired since early Neanderthals fused (literally) fire to mastadon loin. Back on point, here in Vancouver it's also possible to eat, say 'authentic' Chinese (and very well and reasonably), or to do the CSI thing and investigate the vestigal culinary DNA interwoven into what has emerged as a distinct regional cuisine. While some might find that warp and weave fascinating, I just think it tastes good. The same can said to be true of the many other culinary laboratories of the Pacific Rim, such as Melbourne, Singapore, Seattle, and Auckland, but especially Sydney. (Although Sydney is half a world away, and despite using widely disparate ingredients, Vancouver and Sydney share a great deal of culinary similarity.) We have to bear in mind a cultural difference between Commonwealth countries and America. If America is branded a 'melting pot', Commonwealth countries tended to think more in terms of a 'vertical mosaic', where elements of mother cultures continue to be celebrated, but also where, certainly by the second generation, there is confluence. The same is true for the way we eat. To prove the methodology of these culinary laboratories, and their 'trickle down' effect, I look no further than the hybridized menus in any of the highly successful concept chains that began in Western Canada: Earls, The Keg, Cactus Club Cafe, Milestone's et al. Each offers themes and variations on imported dishes. Let's look at Earls, which really started it all. Outstanding development chef Michael Noble (ex-Four Seasons, The Metropolitan Hotel, Culinary Olympian and captain of Canada's Bocuse d'Or team) helms a flavour-forward menu, which, in addition to a very good occidental menu, also offers these dishes: Sushi Platter: self explanatory Thai Chicken Salad: crisp romaine and asian slaw, grape tomatoes and peanuts in a spicy Thai lime dressing, fresh cilantro and mint topped with 1/2 breast of grilled curried coconut chicken Sunfish with Panang Curry Sauce: firm fish low in fat and sweet and mild in flavour, with spicy panang curry sauce, brown rice and wilted greens Jeera Chicken Curry: tender chicken in an authentic Indian curry, served with jasmine rice and fresh baked naan bread Hunan Kung Pao: wok fried noodles and seared vegetables tossed with spicy ginger soy sauce, topped with peanuts **Add pan fried chicken or sautéed shrimp Abundant foodstuffs for all the citizens! At about US $10 per entree! Are these individual dishes made better and more 'authentically' elsewhere? Yes, at individual restaurants. But at Earls, families and casual diners can sop up these flavours effortlessly, alongside a stunning one-price wine list, 100% organic greens and incredibly well-trained servers. That, I think, illustrates how what might have been novel a decade or more ago, and was born in fused flavours and ingredients, is now irretrievably merged. I celebrate it daily.

Excellent point, Chris. Just look at the explosion of izakaya dining on the west coast--easily supplanting sushi restuaurants in terms of new, casual restaurant openings. It is, after all, the bistro food of Japan exported here, and is very accessible and cheap, and appeals to a younger demo in rooms that pulsate with energy. Here is just one example, in the cleverly named Hapa Izakaya. As for Asian fast food, well it's endemic too. As the article above also states, ramen and pho are also pervasive; terrific, fast and restorative, both take much less time to eat than to prepare. But look no further than a local local supermarket to amplify the observation. Over the past decade sushi has become a generic foodstuff, widely available as takeout in grocery store deli cases, but in Vancouver (and I'm sure in many other cities)—subbing in for those nasty triangles of egg salad on white—even at gas stations. Many other Asian foods have also become ubiquitous to the point of cliché. Salted edamame show up as pub snacks; won tons (aka pot stickers) are staples on starter lists in casual, white guy restaurants and deli cases or frozen for snacking at home. Dim sum vies with eggs Benny as Vancouver’s civic brunch icon. Chains such as Earls, Cactus Club and Joey’s Global do a credible job with hijacked Asian noodle dishes, quite often punchier, in fact, than Asian restaurants at the same price point. So many Asian ingredients and preparations (such as black bean, soy and oyster sauces, ponzu, wasabi, bulgogi, kuljon and lo mein) have crossed the divide that it is now the norm to see Asian references on most western-based Vancouver menus. One dish, Vietnamese-styled garlic and chilli-spiced baby squid, is now so widely available as to be unremarkable. All speak to a simple fact: there is a wide difference between 'dumbing down' and convenient accessibility. I believe that the consumer--in an effort to deal with diminished at-home preparation or dining out time--is becoming more savvy, not less. Cheers, Jamie

Parkside and the Bins are popular industry hangouts later.

Pan, We live in one of the newest cities on the Pacific Rim, and although we're still known as British Columbia, our population is quickly approaching 40 per cent Asian. That will accelerate as recently announced immigration intakes are increased. It's an exciting culinary laboratory to be sure, closer to the mother DNA of China, Japan, and India than the founding gastro-cultures of Europe that begat us. You won't find it called fusion here though, because those influences have taken on more 'merged' characteristics: they now lie deep (and comfortably) within our regional cuisne while also--in home and restaurants--still serving what begat them. Perhaps that also describes the difference between our two counties and how we characterize the assimilation of immigrants (and also of their cuisines): whereas Americans call that assimilation a 'melting pot', here we call it a 'vertical mosaic'. For the newer, emergent cities of the Pacific Rim such as Vancouver, Seattle, Sydney, Melbourne and Auckland (each of which also enjoys an indigenous wine culture), these flavours are second and even first nature--they are everywhere and very much interwoven in their culinary fabric. By no coincidence, they are also amongst the most exciting (and best value) places to eat in the world. And as surely as the economies of China (and, for differnet--as it's now called--reasons and more slowly) India, will usurp those of Europe and North America, so too will their other cultural exports such as cuisine. Ooops--so sari--that's already happened. Chicken tikka is already the dominant, even iconic dish of Great Britain; sushi has replaced egg salad sandwiches in gas stations on the west coast; and all of these things have already happened. Needless to say, China and India (and other Asian cultures) were culinary super-powers when the French were still full of Gaul. It's only the conceit of our relatively recent 'discovery' of them (largely imported, and largely via our own media) that has validated that discovery for us. The future? Merge Left.

Great ride, Daniel--many thanks. Come up and see us sometime. Jamie

Look for something belying Manny's Portuguese provenance. ← ← Not at all. Poor choice of words on my part TS; I should have said 'speaking to' his Portuguese roots.

Look for something belying Manny's Portuguese provenance.

Had I been the headline writer, I probably would have called it 'Haute Stove League'. As for Wilson's, I'm an Equal Opportunity reviewer and try to keep an open mind. After all, it is packed with screens and the food has improved. And I certainly admire their perseverance--they had a cold and lonely winter. I've had decent pulled pork at Dix recently too.

Home Meal Replacement (HMR) is the fastest growing segment of the Food Service industry. It suits the needs of the two-income family and the many singles (and even couples) who would rather look at their stainless oven than actually get it smudged. The Vancouver Sun ran this article yesterday, detailing quality take away outlets. How important are they to your life--once a week? More often? is the premium charged worth it? Good, bad and ugly, let's discuss.

Hmmm isn't Nu on stilts over the ocean. Now doesn't the crown own everything below the low tide line? ← I'm pretty sure that's Prince Phillip.

In the Globe today . . . That Hammy Boy "Chef's matinee-idol looks attract a heavy puck-bunny contingent."

Intriguing travelogue, Arne. Although Oliver now bills itself as the 'Wine Capital of Canada' it formerly touted itself as the 'Cantalope Capital of Canada'. That's because John Oliver, Premier after WWI, brought shell-shocked soldiers to Oliver for fresh air and hard work. 'Twas they who installed 'the big ditch' (irrigation canal) up from OK Falls and converted the desert to a lush cantalope patch. But I'm sure that Cantalope Annie already told you this. I have no idea I how I know this but I'd like to forget it now that I've shared. J.

All other things are not equal. Anonymity reduces access and therefore the ability to acquire information of relevance to a review. Not a reported piece -- a review. In addition, the theoretical ideal of anonymity is never achieved in practice. What is relevant to the real world of restaurant reviewing is how these things actually work, and in actuality the reviewers who claim to be anonymous are recognized anyway. And the general attempted use of anonymity in restaurants establishes a negative dynamic between the press and restaurants, and sends the wrong message to the public. Moreover, the requirement of the pretense of anonymity also negatively impacts the quality of writers who will be hired to write reviews in the first place, e.g., David Rosengarten, Jeffrey Steingarten and Alan Richman could never get hired to write New York Times restaurant reviews because all three have appeared regularly on television -- yet all three are far superior writers and would be far superior New York Times reviewers to Frank Bruni. ← I can subscribe to Steven's thesis on this. Anonymity is, ultimately, a poor disguise for objectiveness, clarity, knowledge and a visceral sense of context. While they're not mutually exclusive, being a good reporter--getting the story and setting it in context--is more important than the 'I came, I ate, I left' school. Much more. And that's if anonymity can even be said to exist. What's also important is a disciplined and consistent methodology and the ability to separate the fly shit from the pepper. The main reason anonymity might be prized by some is the notion that service might be upgraded or a meal cooked to a higher level. That's both a conceit and a fable. After a year in the traces, anyone worth his salt can read the service calibrations of a room quickly and accurately. And anyone visiting a dining room several times can also gauge the consistency of the kitchen. Most restaurant reviewing is inward looking: What's on my plate? What a shame, and how mundane. Food requires extrinsic context because it's a reflection not only of who we are, but also of whom we aspire to be. Sometimes the W-5 of what we're eating is also supportive of a higher truth, and making that linkage is precisely what makes for energetic food writing. In other words, an old school restaurant reviewer lets the world come to him, when the reverse, I think, is of inherently greater value. I'm convinced that's why so many weekly newspaper restaurant reviewers burn out: they soon become the napkin-sniffing equivalent of train spotters. Or worse, Michelin inspectors. That their writing is without creation can be a rather debilitating realization (usually in mid-life), especially when writing about others so creative. There's no disguising that this is why the odd restaurant reviewer might choose to cross-dress. Writers able to reach deeper into the sociology of the review stand a much better chance to achieve longevity and to sustain interest, both for themselves and their always intrigued readers. And that, I don't think, happens best in blissful anonymity.

Terrific piece, Andy. With your feature about Vancouver in Olive this month that certainly bolsters your media credentials as 'World's Most Renowned Food + Wine Journalist from Brighton, England.' That's a strong brand and hasn't just fallen in your lap. That was Tanya, 22, from Bracknell. Well done.

Let 'er rip! How do you think touching works in a restaurant setting? Positive and warm? Too familiar and annoying? Your conclusions? Slightly longer touch?[/I] When is too much really too much? or does everyone need the warmth of a touch nowadays? ← Depends entirely on where I’m eating out. Because it's both cultural and circumstantial, isn't it? For instance, it was a lovely warm summer day in Vancouver yesterday. At Wreck Beach, which is a very large (thousands served) nude beach at the end of our street, I observed quite a few displays of gratuitous touching in lieu of tipping as it's hard to carry small change. Similarly, at the other end of our street lies a neighbourhood tratt that we frequent once a week or so. The manager, who is attractive to the point of nubility oblige, is given to hugging favoured patrons. I have learned, over time, to hug back, occasionally with vigour. But in a larger city, congestion might spell a heightened revulsion when foreign bodies penetrate our atmosphere. Like the night in a fabled New York restaurant when the loathsome maitre d' insisted on shaking my hand. I quite rightly saw the handshake as a shakedown: as the offended touchee, I regarded this chap's clammy attempt at familiarity much as one would look upon being touched by a leper in the 13th Century. But shortly afterward, at a superior establishment called El Beach Bar in Quintana Roo, Mexico, my favourite barman, José, greeted me warmly with a handshake. In this element, I took it not just as a sign of friendship, even affection, but as a lead indicator that the next round would be on him. And now, back to bird watching, GG: Falcons vs. Eagles.

Andy, Finally scooped your article on Vancouver--terrific job. I thought that you hit all the marks. I picked up my copy at Barbara-jo's and was told that she has a fair supply. Best, Jamie

If you call tomorrow I suspect you'll be able to get in for either night.

Curious to know what other restaurants did you try out in Vancouver--besides Tojo's and Lumiere, Judith. Next time you're in town you might enjoy the refreshingly casual Octopus's Garden on Cornwall: Sado is amusing but very skilled and proof that angels can fly because they take themselves lightly. Cheers, Jamie

Welcome, j_edge. To your well-compiled list I would add Lumiere Tasting Bar: Jamie's superb constructions (try a Miller's or Hendricks gin--from Scotland-- martini) are very well made, the test being the diaphanous splints of ice after 20 hard throws. But why wait for Nu?

Great blogging Moosh--you're doing the town proud. Thanks so much for the wonderful pictures as well. Looking forward to the Aurora post. Jamie PS: I see Arne's checking in too as he eats and drinks his way across the Okanagan Valley.

We had a delightful meal there last night. The spinach véloute (with chevre foam) and daube de boeuf were revelatory. More Friday in the Globe.