jamiemaw

Lesley (and others), I read Jacob's reviews and thought I heard, if not an actual standing ovation, certainly a hearty round of applause. I found them balanced and thoroughly descriptive of both the food and the experience. But the test for me remains this: Had I not dined at any of these three restaurants and had read the reviews, would I have sought them out? In a word, yes. Best regards, Jamie

It's pretty much retro-traditional new-tsunami post-ironic redux Japanese, Sam, except, as Peppyre explained, when it's not.

If it's the same one, 181 East 16th Avenue; 604-874-5173 Here's a link to Tim Pawsey's review here Jamie

Looks like January but I'll get a more exact date shortly.

from the desk of: F. Morris Chatters, Communications Director, Chatters Restaurants 2004 Ltd., "Where Exciting Urban Professionals Come to Meet, and then leave." Mr. Talents, you will no doubt be thrilled to know that I am back on the burners since Sven, our chef for some 27 years, has caviled with my wife, Eunice, and taken her back to his native Lithuania. I was, almost needless to say, shocked if not surprised. Although I fully realize that you have referred to Richmond as 'charm-challenged', 'IKEA-Ville', 'Steve's Town', or even just plain 'D-ick', I wanted to alert you to this: There are many superior dining (and value-laden) opportunities to be had here beyond Korean sandwiches. To wit: Our very own Chatters' Combo Platters. Although Sven's rapid departure has necessitated some abbreviation, we can now proudly announce that our autumnal Turning Leaf Platter ($19.99) combines Breaded Scallops with Mild Ladner Blueberries; Skewered Giant Thai Prawns with Kiwi Surprise Salsa; Breaded Salmon Steaks with salmon jus; and 'Sven's Famous' Rice Pilaf with Special Lithuanian Spicing (testosterone). Melange of vegetables is just $4.95 additional (we recommend sharing) and water, as you know, is complimentary. Wine pairings of Turning Leaf, currently available in both of the major colours, are just $5.95 per three-and-a-half ounce pour. Mr. Talents, I can assure you that although Chinese restaurants may be 'busy 365', we here at Chatters are not and are happy if not quite overjoyed to see you and the lesser Talents for whatever your dining requirements may actually turn out to be and then some. From time to time that can be quite a lot. All day Friday we offer our American guests complimentary flu shots which I can tell you has been a real shot in the arm for us too. On Wednesday nights we feature the belly-dancing stylings of mother and daughter team Andwar and Melinda Skavange accompanied by Lars Skavange (Sven's brother, with whom I remain on good terms) on electric zither. Happy Hour cocktails during this time period (4pm to midnight most nights unless otherwise advised) also remain on good terms with our favourable clienteles. I must say, after a busy year as Communications Director for, serially, The Skybar VIP Lounge and then The Capilano Suspension Bridge ("Suspending Disbelief Since 1934"), it's good to come home again. I was, truth be known, getting a little tired of the waddling tourists and charm-challenged locals. To say nothing of my cheating wife. We look forward to servicing you and your wife in the near future or at your current or sooner convenience. Pardon the shameless touting but Beychevelle appears to be taking a day off. By the way, Beychevelle in Lithuanian means "Place of Mayonnaise". Yours etc., F. Morris Chatters Chatters Restaurants 2004 Ltd.

You must have wandered into the wrong sub-forum, Bux, because it's Toronto and other eastern cities that suffer the frigid winter temperatures and unholy summer humidity so similar to New York City, and, for that matter, Plymouth. The wine harvest is only just beginning here, but we usually let the bananas stay up until the First Nations Summer has run it's course--usually around Christmas. We then go to our favourite suburb, Maui, for two weeks and come back for the tradional start of summer on January 15th. While I had some superb lotus roots here at Phnom Penh only last weekend, I wasn't aware that New York is a citrus-growing area (I thought that took place closer Dangling Chad, FL aka Hurrican Alley), but then again, before I ate in New York I thought you had a legitimate restaurant culture too. And, for that matter, a baseball team.

Let's bring it back on topic by adressing Bux's distress: Rare burgers are available at The Fairmont Waterfront Hotel but you have to sign a liability waiver form. Culinary Tourism is an engine of growth and as we've alluded to on this thread, will, over time, deliver even better restaurants. The BC Restaurant and Food Services Association has recently empanelled a commitee to organize a Route des Sauveurs type of culinary trail such as that very successfully rolled out in Quebec and other jurisdictions over the past few years. Further, Cuisine Canada's recent conference, Northern Bounty, held a two hour pleneray session to address the issue. The whole concept has gone well beyong lip service, if you'll excuse me, into the type of mainstream marketing that find industry and tourism assocaiations can sink their teeth into. That's in some part because the marketing of hard assets (Queen Elizabeth Gardens, Canada Place, Science World et al) is saturated; the marketing of soft assets such as dining has lots of legs. Just look at the success of Dine Out Vancouver to know how willing they are now to promote what we eat and how we eat it.

From the desk of: F. Morris Chatters Communications Director Capilano Suspension Bridge and Ye Olde Souvenir Shoppe "SUSPEND DISBELIEF" North Vancouver, BC Dear Mr. Salmon, We were shocked and appalled to read your denigrating remarks regarding our clientele. I'll have you know that we are an Equal Opportunity tourist trap and are in no way predjudiced against either the picayune or the morbidly obese. In fact we have little control (whether they be Jumbos or merely garden-variety Double Wides) over who walks across our not inconsiderable chasm. Speaking of chasms, we are always on the lookout for new business opportunities and would be very interested indeed in building a bridge to assist you in connecting your logic. Although, truth be told, our engineers remain unsure that even Kevlar would be sufficient. With your permission, we thought we might name it A Bridge Too Far. We believe that it would easily qualify as the longest (unsupported) suspension bridge in the world but first we would want to ensure that you would be comfortable in becoming a major tourist destination. Although many of your aquaintances inform us that you are a chap of even disposition, i.e. a chip on both shoulders, we rush to assure you that we remain amused by your Small Earth theorems. We would very much like to convince you as to both the veracity and the beauty of our operation, and would be very pleased to host you for a guided tour of the Bridge and an up-close view of the canyon. My colleaugues and I are confident that you will find it the thrill of a lifetime. Wishing you only the best and sending congratulations on the occasion of 25 years of successful living in Kitsilano, until we meet again . . . Salmon chanted evening, We remain, etc. F. Morris Chatters c. Ms. Enid Plews, Director of Communications, CN Traveler

Love the double negative, Sam! Enough said.

Hmmm, let's see: Barbecue, beer, potato salad, football. Got any sisters? Up here in PC Cascadia though, we call it a First Nations' (or, alternatively Indigenous Persons') Summer. Just so you know . . .

I disagree with everything you have said here, especially the 'hard shell' that you ironically disdain in others while semingly tolerating in your own remarks by way of your salutation to Andy. Andy lives in Brighton and works in London; both are popular tourist destinations; London is obviously one of the most popular in the world. Somehow the locals have come to terms with the fact that we really love them (to paraphrase Sally Field) and enjoy visiting their city. Thay have found a way to co-exist with us for several centuries. You make the classic case of the NIMBY--I live here but don't want to share it with you. Further, I can assure you that most Vancouverites (and epecially the restaurant industry) do indeed benefit hugely from tourism, whether the tourists are fat and waddling; trim and fit; or merely the curious shoppers whom you cite. To say otherwise is ignorant of how British Columbia's--and this city's--economy works. For every anecdotal case of a local being rude to a tourist, I have seen a hundred cases of kindness to strangers here this summer. I'm sure that you too are helpful, pausing from your routine to give directions or offer advice. This city is renowned for its friendliness and, I dare say, this was just one reason why CN Traveler subscribers saluted us. Culinary tourism is a large and growing component of the city's carefully planned growth. I say that the more tourism we enjoy, the more interesting and cosmopolitan our city will be, and ultimately the better our restaurant culture will become, both for us and for our visitors. Count on it. Jamie

Only in Canada you sya? Pity! Until I read this thread I hadn't realized that we live in the nexus of quality chip making. Although truth be told, Japan and India sound terrific too. I was a little surprised not to hear our Hawaiian neighbours chime in though--or maybe they just want to save all the Maui Chips for themselves. They've been a treat since we started going there as kids and we indulge ourselves still.Thick cut, thunderingly snappy, a little salty and great potato flavour. The only known antidote to full-on addiction is beer served precisely at 33 degrees. Feel the burn. Back here, and although not strictly speaking chips, Rain Coast Crisps (available through Lesley Stowe Fine Foods) are delicious, but, let it be known, actually good for you. It's a fibre thing. Maybe that disqualifies them out of hand. What with the tightly held opinions/favourites on this thread, good thing we didn't get into dips.

Coop, I tried to look away but it was already too late. Besides, one of my favourite expressions is counter culture seeing as that's where I live and all. And you know Coop, that's why they pay us the medium bucks . . . to keep the ads from bumping into each other. Now how's that vertical of Olde Fireweed Mead coming that you promised for November 5th? Cheers, Jamie PS--I'm a very big fan of the full page glossy for Oakridge this month.

Shhh, Sam. Don't tell the hoteliers and restaurateurs of Vancouver. Last time I looked they kinda liked those Yankee greenbacks. What was it that made your love go away? And besides, I thought "shallower, more pretentious and lame" referred to the Zagat guides. Or at the very least, O--the Oprah Magazine.

There are indeed still tickets for both events--please tell your friends. Some of you, who had earlier offered Silent Auction items (Coop, to remind--the vertical of Ch. Margaux; Keith Talent the horizontal of industrial detergents et al), have already responded. Many thanks. It would warm my chilly heart if the rest of you would confirm by PM by Monday if possible. A number of you have mentioned that you would like to purchase copies of Vancouver Cooks for Christmas presents, for self, relative or friend. We've arranged a special one-time discount price (through Barabara-jo) of $32.50 (plus taxes - versus $40 retail) available the evening of November 5th. It would help if you could let us know how many copies you would like and we'll arrange to have them there the night of. By the way, we have no control over the retail price of the book and it's possible that there will be similar or greater discounts available elsewhere. This one simply allows a slightly higher amount (a buck or two per book) to flow through to the Chefs' Table Bursary Fund. Hope it works for you. Thanks from Arne, Neil and me for your support all round, Jamie

It will come as no blinding revelation to you that Vancouver scooped a Conde Nast Traveler award as "Best City in the Americas" at their annual ceremony in New York. We've written here at length about the outside validation that Canadians seem to require (wine awards, wayward actors et al) from that, ahem, slightly larger market to the south of us. I mention this award because--after a summer frequently dedicated to hosting American food journalists, the city is reaching the tipping point of culinary acknowledgement as well. In fact, some of them wouldn't leave, maybe because we're about 21% happier to see them. My point is that this award is at least somewhat due to Vancouver's (and other parts of the province's) emergent reputation for culinary tourism, and not just because we're beautiful. Anyway, here's a much-abbreviated rendition of the Tourism Vancouver press release. OCTOBER 8, 2004 "Vancouver voted Top City in Americas by Conde Nast Traveler" "VANCOUVER, BC: Last night Condé Nast Traveler magazine voted Vancouver the "Best City in the Americas" at their annual Readers' Choice Awards ceremony held in New York. Vancouver won the top spot over Victoria and Quebec City. The poll divides cities into five specific geographical divisions including the Americas, which covers Canada, Central America and South America. Cities are scored on ambience, friendliness, culture and sites, restaurants, lodging, and shopping, to give a final ranking. Last year Vancouver was ranked second in the same category. This award is at the top of a long list of accolades that Vancouver has received in recent years. The city has also been honoured with top rankings by groups such as the American Automobile Association and the International Air Transport Association, and consistently ranks as one of the most liveable cities in the world. Also recognized at the ceremony were Vancouver's Fairmont Waterfront Hotel, which was voted the best hotel in Canada, and Vancouver Island, which won the "Best North American Island" category over Nantucket and Prince Edward Island." (Edited)

I concur Marlene. All-Incs are not our proscribed style either but the RH offers the option of eating very well on site or heading into Playa. And that water . . . Interesting restaurants and bars pepper Avenida Cinca. The little Hotel Deseo, although far from muy autentico is an amusing place to begin the proceedings. We watched cashmered Italians rearrange themselves on their bar stools. As is El Beach Bar at Hotel las Palapas (where we also stay, it's Swiss Family Robinson meets Gilligan's Island and absolutely lovely), where Happy Hour begins promptly at 4pm and ends vaguely at eight. Both are good crossroads for conversation. We saw the new DNA of the Mayan coast at Casa del Agua, where the second generation (German chef marries local beauty) shows up in the children's startling green eyes. At Bar Cabalova, a hybrid sushi/sports bar run by two mad Frenchmen, we took good fish and icy cervezas on the sidewalk while chatting up Austrian and Scandanavian folks, as well as the charming Mayan locals. And that's the merest whiff of great beginnings . . . Jamie

Robyn, I would second Marlene's recommendation of The Royal Hideaway, just south of Playa del Carmen--easy for you to get to as well. Playa is just the right size right now and has a certain charm cast in its distinctive feel of Europe brought to the Mayan coast, especially along its main walking street. There are lots of restaurants specializing in Yucatecan and Veracruzan cuisine. The Hideaway itself is an elegant property fronting some very beautiful azure water. The other resort that we particularly enjoy (and in fact are visiting soon ourselves) is The Palmilla in Los Cabos. Although Cabo has no where near the charm of Playa del Carmen, the town of San Jose, close by the resort, retains some native soul. The resort itself is gorgeous, quiet and interesting, with kitchens specializing in indigenous-inflected cuisine but watched over by Charlie Trotter. In Hawaii, we had an exceptional stay at the Fairmont Orchid on the Big Island. Some very good eating right on the property (terrific Japanese restaurant)--gotgeous walking and beaches. Up the volcano in Waimea, more good eating (Peter Merriman's longtime restaurant started it all) from the local farms. It's stunning to compare the black lava at sea level with the lush greenery above--it looks like Ireland. Those are just three recent entries, but we think them all worthies for the sort of thing that you're contemplating. Bon Voyage, Jamie

Annals of Food Anthropology Expurgated from Ministry of Food Public Advocacy Bulletin: MOF/04-B4U-I812 Province of British Columbia ROCKET SCIENCE: THE ARUGULA PARADOX The emerging science of food anthropology reveals more about us than we might care to know, writes F. Morris Chatters, recently appointed Associate Research Level II Assistant to the Associate Deputy Minister for Food During the culinary Dark Ages—that time now universally known as the Pre-Arugula Epoch to food anthropologists—certain sinister dilemmas faced early food adventurers, foragers and risk-takers. Just one such dilemma: Whether it took more courage to eat the first oyster or the first dessert. Food anthropologists now pretty much agree that the oyster was the more daunting—it was typically harder to open and required specialized hardware such as a rock and a hard place. A rump group of contrarians, however, forcefully maintains that the mega-dessert known as “Death by Chocolate” (1978) was, by right of its very name alone probably equally frightening, especially if you’d just eaten a lot of oysters. But now much larger issues confront leading food anthropologists. Debate rages in university food departments, although locally, both University of BC and Simon Fraser University food professors have recently lost their faculties, mainly due to government cutbacks or unfortunate local wine pairings. That fierce debate is focused on the precise chronology of iconic food events, both Pre- and Post-Arugula, and even during the actual Arugula Epoch itself. The debate began at England’s University of Wessex (not incidentally, the British refer to arugula as “rocket”), fomented by the controversial food-denialist Dr. Ewan Auger in his seminal essay, A Brief History of Fennel. In a footnote to the essay, Auger categorically states that both rocket (that is, arugula) and restaurant patio heaters were invented in Great Britain. Not only did he get it badly wrong, but little did he know the trouble he would soon unleash the world over. To set the record straight, the Pre-Arugula period (1971-1978) is characterized by certain iconic benchmarks in time, such as, “Hi, my name’s Brad, and I’ll be your waiter tonight” (1972), salad bar sneeze-shields (1973), Kressman’s screw top wine in the handy one-litre format (1974), and the advent of pepper mills the size of outdoor chess pieces (1971-present day). Culinary historians now largely agree upon these dates. What remains more controversial, however, and what has yet to be settled by accurate carbon dating, was the introduction of uncomfortable hotel-banquet chairs and pink nylon napkins into high-end Chinese restaurants. Dr. Baugh Lam, dean of UBC’s Faculty of Food and Modern Living, says “We know now that the plastic grocery bags [that the pink napkins were recycled from] went into production in 1976. Unfortunately carbon dating has proven wildly inaccurate, though, likely because the bags themselves were recycled from leisure suits. And any hope for accurate DNA sampling appears a dead-end too – what little chop suey actually adhered to the napkins is either virtually untraceable or simply petrifying.” When we confronted Dr. Lam with the clear evidence of pink nylon napkins in a 1975 brochure touting the Double Ecstasy Fulfillment Gardens Restaurant in Richmond, he replied, “Well there you go—this is never easy and it’s far from being an exact science.” During the actual Arugula Epoch, which lasted a scant two decades beginning in late-1978, some issues have recently been clarified while others remain clouded by time. For instance, lengthy menu descriptions (1992-1998), noting the provenance of each ingredient, its organic growing methodology, its harvesting procedures and the maiden name of its mother arouse not a whit of controversy. What does raise a bone of contention though, especially amongst steakhouse anthropologists, is the advent of sautéed spinach (as opposed to the undeniably Pre-Arugula creamed spinach) as a side dish. “The 2001 fire at the head offices of Hy’s Steakhouses on Davie Street wiped out any definitive proof,” says Dr. Sybil Kronick of Simon Fraser University’s Department of Culinary Anthropology and Food Styling. “Although we’re quite sure it was 1995, I said more or less the same thing about the baba au rhum/apple crumble changeover date, and just look at how out to lunch I was there,” Dr. Kronick continued in her usual self-effacing way. “But we’re missing the real point here, anyway, because the whole missing link controversy is of much greater importance.” Dr. Kronick was, of course, referring to those dining items that positively link the epochs: Hy’s Seasoning Salt, supersized pepper mills, and bratwurst. “Hy’s Seasoning Salt clearly connects the dots,” Dr. Kronick said brazenly. “But if you want the real missing links, look to quality bratwurst, especially the ones that don't split when amateur grill-dads barbecue them. Because they definitely connect the epochs too,” she said. Dr. Kronick makes a strong case, and even her most out-spoken critics seem at least in tacit agreement on these points. “Now, you could argue that vertical presentation in general, and the addition of high-rise rosemary spears to roasted garlic mashed potatoes in particular, were important Arugula-era icons,” says chef Todd Ling of Vancouver’s renowned fusion house Beige Ling. “Equally, you could make the valid point that short, cryptic menu descriptions like ‘Recent Veal’ and ‘Regional Haggis’ are definitively post-Arugula. On the other hand, ‘Blackened Group’ is clearly Cajun and therefore pre-Arugula. But clearly, quality bratwurst—especially venison with minced prune — crosses all the boundaries.” And as for Hy’s Seasoning Salt, we asked? In response, Ling pulled a yellowed copy of the September, 1968 edition of Vancouver Life magazine from the cookbook shelf in his tiny office. He pointed to an advertisement for the legendary financial district hangout known as Hy’s Encore. Pictured in the ad is the restaurant’s founder, Hy Aisenstat, doctoring a fowl with Hy’s Seasoning Salt, a large peppermill and a lashing of cognac. The caption reads, “At Hy’s, no tern goes unstoned.” “Clearly Pre-Arugula,” Ling said, “but a technique still much in evidence today in finer steakhouses.” * * * “By-catch, sustainable, and fly-caught, zeez are the buzzwords for the Post-Arugula generation,” says devoutly heterosexual Kitsilano bistro proprietor Alphonse d’Aprés-Toi. For once he is referring to his ingredients and not his libido. “At Chez Alphonse we really concentrate on these things,” he says as he fondles the generous lobes of a nubile foie gras. “To be sure, bratwurst will always remain important,” he says, playing the French card, “but only ze way we make it here—browned off in ze quick sauté and zen napping in the sauce of low morels.” Meanwhile, University of British Columbia’s Dr. Lam and his colleaugues aren't so sure. “Blindfold some restaurant critics and then ask them to tell the difference between a wild, line-caught, quick-bled winter-spring salmon versus the traditional farmed product and I guarantee you that nine times out of ten they’ll be 50-50 or so,” Lam claims. Lam claims that he and his fellow academics are also seeing ample evidence of a new trend, called Retro Pre-Arugula, showing up on menus. “It’s sort of a guilty pleasure, but also a finger in the eye of your Arugula-obsessed parents,” Lam says. “Cut an iceberg lettuce—about the size of what Mayor Larry Campbell stuffs in his fedora—in half and slather a pint of Thousand Island dressing over it. Lighthouse brand is a superior product. Then my wife and I like to open a case of beer and turn out the lights.” Interestingly, however, "the distinctions between the three periods are most clearly evidenced when examining restaurant service, not food,” Dr. Lam said in italics for emphasis. It’s soon clear that Lam is referring to the notorious “Quality Check” question that has seemingly adapted to changing times. “Pre-Arugula,” Lam says, “Brad, your waiter, would stop by to interrupt your carefully rehearsed entreaties of seduction by asking ‘Is everything all right?’ But these days, his name is Ethan and he’ll ask ‘Is everything meeting or exceeding your taste expectations?’ This is much worse, of course, because it can make your date think she's buying into something much more than dinner.”

Richmond?

Peppyre, After being sponsors of Cornucopia for the longest time, we gave it a break last year. But here's a roll call of the better events: 1. Varietel Boot Camp with Josh Wesson--in fact anything with JW, the author of Red Wine with Fish and very funny--his dad was a Borscht Belt comedian and you can hear the budda-bing in his delivery. The Wine Guys thing with JW and Anthony Gismondi is good value too. 2. The Farm Trip to North Arm Farm (Jordan Sturdy) always sells out fast--see what you can do. It's very interesting (to me at least) how Whistler's hotels and restaurants (promulgated by Bernard Casavant more than a decade ago) collaborated with Pemberton Valley farmers. 3. The Washington Wine Lunch (Dana Reinhard and Mark Taylor from CRU showing Columbia Crest and Ch. Ste. Michelle) looks good. 4. If you have the bucks, the Jazz Night at Araxi promises lots of good seafood from James Walt--I think the wine rave at Bearfoot is already sold out although no doubt you could gain entrance if you dress up as a naked wine bottle. 5. Anything with Mark Davidson or John Clerides--two of the most lucid and down-to-earth wine guys around. Mark's Oregon--Cool Climate and Aussie Diversity seminars sound tasty; John's doing one on New World Meritage, an arena of strong growth. The most curious (to be polite) "event" is the morning-after "Recovery Room", where, quoting from the catalogue, "Don Genova will be on hand to hear about the previous night's escapades and share morning-after remorse with good humour and light-hearted chuckles." I'll have to let you make up your own mind on that one. I hope this helps. You needn't express your profound thanks as Keith sounds thirsty. Jamie

The lack of information on foie gras de canard production (for much goes on behind closed doors) prodded me to see for myself in the summer of 2003. The following is a version of a post in the Media Forum which I thought current for placement here. Encore un Foie? I’m certainly no expert on the production of foie gras, and, as much as I love the stuff have become an infrequent eater of it, especially after it became so very ubiquitous, even in inexpert hands (it deserved much better), a decade or more ago. I regret that it lost its purity, became a plaything -- even a cynical hamburger fixing. Whereas in France foie gras is a natural wintertime celebratory food (much is consumed between Christmas and New Year's), in North America it has become commodified, an item for Robb Report readers to add to their iconic lists like a vertical of Petrus, the lists that speak to excess cash flow seeking social validation. But not to sound a snot, for even if this class is bereft of good taste, let's assume that more than one of them knows what tastes good. Although some might say that these type of people only had kids so they could get pre-boarding, I have no opinion on the subject. But not to confuse the issue: most people, especially those with more than a passing interest in food, eat foie gras beacuase it is delicious and because its unctuous texture is like no other. Foie gras may soon join Chilean sea bass, swordfish and Caspian caviar amongst the verbotten for the Prius set, not for reason of endangerment, but rather for perceived cruelty. But what had struck me as I read the little available literature on the subject was the lack of firsthand information. Most people rendering their opinion, on either side of the issue, had not, it appeared, set foot anywhere near a foie gras production facility. It's safe to say that the foie reared in Quebec is exemplary; indeed many Canadian and American chefs who have worked with the three main products (Sonoma, Hudson Valley and Quebéçois) believe it the best foie product on the continent. I had the opportunity to inspect two foie gras de canard farms in Quebec last summer and was even allowed entré into the inner sanctum--the gavage sheds--which, for reasons of disease control and increasing political sensitivity, are usually off limits. The first farm, south of Montreal, was a fairly large scale commercial operation that is licensed to export product extra-provincially and into the US (and in fact supplies many eastern seaboard US restaurants). It was an unfettered production line with all stages of the process carried out in a carefully controlled environment. Diet, heat, humidity and light were fastidiously calibrated and constantly monitored by computer. It was also a scrupulously clean operation; the main fear being, because of the close quarters, a systemic outbreak of disease. As the ducklings matured toward gavage, their pre-migratory instinct to gorge was seemingly tricked into action (no matter the time of year--I was there the day before St. Jean-Baptiste Day in late June) via the steady diminishment of light and heat (imitating shorter autumn days), and diet deprivation followed by a spate of abundant feed; deprivation; feed. The gavage stage (heavily air-conditioned and humidified) was clinical but expertly managed (the speed of the technique is not learned overnight) from a mechanically-forced machine that follows the operator, although the ducks were held in restrictive individual pens within a shed the size of a small warehouse. The actual gavage took just a few seconds. The shed was cold and wet, and the ducks were certainly not running to be fed -- they couldn't budge. The pens were suspended above frequently flushed concrete floors; the shed smelled much as you might expect. Although the ducks did not appear to protest the gavage, which, again, was both swift and expert, there is simply no way—short of inviting Dr. Doolittle to the party—to know. (A little like being at the dentist with wadding and a rubber dam in your mouth when he asks you the quality check question). But neither did we see any evidence of animals squealing or otherwise behaving in an obviously distressed manner. Although I asked on more than one occasion, the precise (mainly corn) composition of diet for the ducks is closely guarded; it would be unfair to speculate what, if any, medications might or might not be added to their feed. But it was obvious even to an outsider that bacterial or viral disease could be commercially lethal to this type of closed facility. What struck me most about this operation though, was the very large size of the finished liver. At over 600 grams, the liver distends below the animal’s ribcage and has an exterior appearance, prior to their trip to the abbatoir, not unlike a human hernia poking through skin. This is the portion of the liver most likely to be damaged or bruised, et voila--pate. All of the parts of the duck carcass were packaged and sold, in large part to restaurants: the foie, trimmed breasts, legs en confit, pate, and the carcass for stock. The second farm, located near Quebec City, was a somewhat different story. This smaller producer, which used smaller, old (and picturesque) wooden sheds and barns, also revealed a slightly different methodology. The ducklings (hatched off-site) were allowed free range in outdoor pens before being moved indoors to the manipulated environment. But even that seemed a little friendlier: at this stage the ducklings were still allowed to roam in quite large rooms. The gavage was similar to the prior operation, but with an important difference: the feed was stopped when the livers were estimated to be at the 400 to 450 gram stage of growth for slaughter, and before any obvious distension had taken place. For regulatory reasons (and much like many of the province’s wonderful cheeses), their product is not available outside of Quebec, the only Canadian province where it is legal to produce foie gras de canard. The chef with whom I was traveling, Jean-Luc Boulay, who operates a restaurant in Quebec City called Le Saint’Amour, visited this operation regularly, as much, I came to feel, for his interest in the welfare of the animals as for the quality of the finished (smaller) product that they gave up. He seemed convinced that the smaller livers were superior—less likely to be granular—and that the ducks knew no suffering. Boulay regularly serves several variations—typical might be a homemade terrine with Sauternes jelly and fig pulp; squab stuffed with fresh foie gras; or foie gras seared with fleur de sel, its pan deglazed with cranberries and mango chutney. One can also order a foie gras plat combining several of these. Without for a minute wishing to prejudice anyone, having seen these two producers, I wouldn't eat from a foie over half a kilo. And because in a restaurant setting that’s nigh on impossible to verify, I choose to eat it no more. But that’s an entirely personal choice, albeit one I regretfully add to a growing list of other much-missed foods, especially that other luxe one, Caspian caviar. In fact, the last foie gras I ate was in Quebec City, early last summer, from the hand of the master Boulay. It was generous and seared quickly in a hot iron pan, with a topknot of good salt and a fresh, barely warmed compote of rhubarb that put sweaters on my teeth. Those perfect combinant flavours, plush under their crust and tinctured with the rhubarb, melted away slowly, and then forever.

I would be curious to know exactly what elements you find vestigial about Le Manoir? David Hawksworth of Vancouver's West worked there for four years, amongst several other first rate British restaurants, and has used the discipline Raymond Blanc's instilled by teaching to great advantage here: his invention never over-reaches fastidiously sourced ingredients and he certainly knows when to get out of their way. That's a maturity and confidence that isn't easily earned. As for some of the newer UK restaurants that have supposedly passed Le Manoir by, are you quoting the bleating (but proforma) mockney-speak of the gastropub; Gordon Ramsey-rooms; or real B&B equivalents such as the Waterside Inn? In all cases I think Le Manoir stacks up rather well. And it survives and flourishes; one has only to note that Pharmacy, the designy concept in Notting Hill that opened strongly, went dark this week. Bacchus at the Wedgewood is distinguished by several features: a quite formal dining room sits (braised) cheek by (coddled) jowl with one of the most active bars in town. A piano man separates the two. The service is informed but friendly. Under Frank Dodd, who worked for Albert Roux, Bacchus was distinguished by a party up front (smoked salmon pizza, lobster rolls, coq au vin and strong drinks), and business in the rear (classically derived French assertively driven by local ingredients and wines). The lounge and restaurant, neither of which is large, combine as one of the highest grossing rooms in the city. The only challenge most nights is to decide which station to sit in--the servers, like most of the patrons, are disturbingly attractive. My own thought is that Parsons' discipline, like Hawksworth's, will serve the needs of the room and Vancouver diners equally well. Especially when he finds out more fully what he has to cook with.

Sounds like a great menu Viola, but where exactly is 'up here' ? Jamie PS--Can we send up some Tio Pepe? Air drop? Although truth be known, I'll be reverting to form and drinking cleansing ales throughout the afternoon in order to keep my weight up. And the strained relations at arm's length. J.

You can walk-in at lunchtime but a same-day reservation is useful for dinner early in the week. For Thursday through Saturday, give a couple of days notice. Jamie