Keith Talent

We went to Shanghai Wind last night. What a find! The Talent Family has a new local. Started with soup buns, or juicy pork buns as they're called on the (english) menu, or xiao long bao which I can bring down the house attempting to order in Shanghai-ese. Buns arrived quicky. I've done some stupid stuff in my day. I'm pleased to add letting greed entice me to cram a whole soup bun in my mouth. The distance at Shanghai Wind between your table and the steamer is about ten feet. Do the math. It was greedy and stupid. My tongue hurts. They were full of soup, had a tender skin yet resilient enough to hold in the soup. Seems every table starts with an order of these. The correct way to eat is to cradle the juicy goodness in your spoon, nip the top of the bun off with your teeth and daintely suck the soup out, then eat the rest. At least that was the fashion last night, maybe the place was full of farmers born in barns with open doors and that's the completely wrong way, I dunno, I do know it's better than putting the whole thing into your gaping maw. Then we had the beef roll, pretty standard, with the exception that the beef looked and tasted like corned beef that had a few sichuan peppercorns thrown into the corning solution. Next was fried beef noodle, the only dish that wasn't a total hit. Seemed more cantonese to me. Fried crispy egg noodles, bok choy and that strange beef you sometimes get that is waaay too tender, almost toi the point of being mushy. Fried dumplings, stuffed with chicken. Again excellent. Slightly greasy, but very savory filling. Last came the oddest dish, and maybe the best. Turnip cake. Recommended by our waitress. Three balls show up, slightly smaller than a tennis ball. Out come the scissors and they're cut in half. They're wrapped in a pie crust so flaky that Aunt Bee would take to blue ribbon in the Mayberry 4th of July Apple pie contest. Sesame seeds are on the outside bottom of the balls. Inside is a weird savory mixture of pickled turnip (or maybe daikon, or some other turnip-ish asian vegtable) slivers of ham and green onions. This is a case of perfect synergy.Doesn't sound like much on paper, but in reality is so delicious that you're jabbing chopsticks at your dining companions to get the last one (kids included!) Add a bowl of steamed white rice for the monsters, who proceed to ignore it and cram the old mans dumplings into their kool-aid stained mugs and you have a pretty good dinner. Twenty-six bucks, with tax! The place is tiny, and very busy. As denziens of the Richmond Chisnese restaurants, we're accustomed to eating alone. Pretty much everywhere is empty at six. Not here. We were hungry early last night, rolled up at about five thirty, place was damn near full. Tables turned quickly and frequently. We saw something I've never witnessed outside Paris, two groups being seated at one large table. Anything to avoid a wait. I'll admit, I'd not be too keen, but now I've seen it done here, it wouldn't bother me. Sometimes the North American sense of personal space is a little odd. Dumplings are all made and cooked at the front of the restaurant, everything done completely by hand. Client base is one hundred percent Chinese we were the only caucasians. It's an old chesnut but still seems to hold up.

If I was unscrupulous I'd suggest parking at Richmond Centre and hoofing it a couple blocks, maybe check out new trends in khaki at The Gap on your way out if you need to assuage your guilt. There's also Save on Foods half a block to the north with convienent parking, but it may be unethical to suggest parking there, going in the entrance, then out the exit, watching closely for the distinctive red Imperial Parking employee windbreakers the whole time. I'll go to Shanghai Wind this week one night for dinner, report pending. It's somewhere that's been on my try soon list for ages. There's a new restaurant called Shanghai River on the north side of Westminister Highway, just west as opposed to east of Number Three Road. It has been busy since the moment it opened, three or four months, reasonably large on the ground floor of a new apartment building. I've meant to go for lunch, but the crowds milling around always dissaude me.

The market is on Westminster Highway, 2 blocks east of Number Three on the south side of the street. Beware - This place has the most butal parkade of all time, be there before 11:30 or don't go at all. There is metered street parking around the market, cruise it before entering into the pit of darkness and ultimate despair that is the worst designed parkade in the universe.

When you read the link Barolo posted about the cultivation of mussels, and the work and hauling socks up and seeding flats and a whole lot of other work that I didn't really understand, then add the expense of airfreight, it's a wonder that they're still so cheap.

So, what does this mean? Is it going to become some sort of British Columbia AOC laws? Without any further details, it raises some interesting points of speculation, ie. why do we need to assure consumers of quality, what practices will this board change to increase the quality? It's like it's written in code, and if you had the decoder ring you'd see the secret message having something to do with chaptilization or imported juice.

That's interesting Barolo. it'd have probably made more sense if I'd not skipped out of Biology 11 so frequently during high schoool. Strangely Fisheries Canada doesn't discuss mussels on their web page Might as well look, it's your tax dollars paying for it. And I didn't know that Penn Cove mussels were from Whidbey Island, how do they compare to the east coast jet setters we usually see?

That was my follow up, why no west coast mussels sold commercially? I suspect the answer may be intertwinned with why we don't eat them off the rocks.

We need to settle this. We need someone travelling to the island to head onto the rocks at Chesterman beach, gather up a couple pounds of mussels, clean cook and eat and then we see if they still post. Isn't Andrew planning a trip to the island? What about Tofino, he's always there. Stovetop is a short hop away, no? Someone needs to get this done. Have a stomach pump handy just in case.

The underwater thing puts a crimp in my plans. And do you know for certain about the low tide rule or is it speculation/a gut feeling (which you'd probably experience from eating a bad mussel)? We've collected oysters that dry at low tide many times.

We spent the weekend on the island, sans bebes even, and while sitting on the deck in June like temperatures (memo to self, throw another tire on the fire, anything I can do to accelerate global warming I'll do, yeah they say Britian'll turn into Siberia, it'll be nicely offset by BC going Socal) watching the waves crashing over the rocks I wondered why no one eats the mussels on the rocks. Too hard to pry off? Pollution? Too difficult to clean? They taste bad? Too small without enough meat? Why do you never see anyone gathering mussels from the beach? Particularly on the west coast of the island. My love of moules is only exceeded by my love of free stuff, on the surface it seems to be a match made in heaven, or at least in Sooke, which considering the weather this weekend was pretty damn close. THere's got to be some compelling reason. Hell, look at all the people that risk pitching head first into the brier patch just to get some free blackberries in late summer, mussels are about a million times better than blackbery pie.

Deborah needs to change her name, as everytime I see it I think: "i said "lady, step inside my Hyundai" i'm gonna take you up to Glendale gonna take you for a real good meal". Say hi to Jenny for me.

"renascent" Nice job proof reading, losers. Whoever Earls hired to do thier web site should have their net access taken away. "The Saltlik is a renasent steakhouse that speaks to the casual dining market of our times." It's like a WWF submission hold on the english language.

Saltlik *WARNING* Worst web design ever within. Don't blame me if you punch your monitor in because of some ditzy chick leaving her credit card behind. I did have a friend eat at the Calgary branch recently, he enjoyed his meal immensly.

My bad, I defer to your superior knowledge of the music of our youth. In my defence I was never a big Rockford fan.

Newbie - I never meant to to a crack at you, hell taste is subjective, the propreitors deserve a sharp poke in the eye with a stick however. And I see Saltlik is opening on Alberni at Burrard. And what the hell does the A-Team have to do with beef?

Saltlik *Warning - Hyper irritating flash site inside*

I'm not even going to bother. If anyone else would like to take a crack at it, feel free. Post-modernism needs to go away. An adult drink, named for a childrens movie. I want to go back to a time where if you didn't have kids between 6 and 12, you'd have no idea what the hell "Finding Nemo" meant. I assure you, our parents were not sitting around drinking "H&R Puff'n'Stuffs", you know why? Because they were busy being adults, swigging gin, driving drunk and sucking back Pall Malls. Now I'm off the Amazon to see when the hell they plan on shipping my X-Box games I ordered.

You mean more pissed, right?

Yeah, that sounds like a plan, a boring plan but a plan none the less. I suggest we begin a pool to wager on what time the first full frontal shot is. We could devise some sort of bonus prize if the shot is completely gratutious. I'd set the over/under line at 7:23. We could aslo work on the Godiva drinking game, but I always find drinking games slightly juvenille, I don't need any half assed excuse to get liquored. Full frontal - one shot tribal arm band tat - one shot recreational drug usage - one shot a dish served that actually looks good - two shots high strung short tempered chef - no shots gay waiter - no shots gay waiter without tribal arm band tat - three shots a waitress with only ears pierced - one shot a pan of yaletown showing the HSG - one shot a pan of yaletown showing the HSG and Ling is going in the front door - three shots a pan of yaletown showing the HSG an Neil is throwing a patron out on thier ass- three shots Someone parking directly in front of the restaurant - four shots This seems easy.

Isn't the "desk" of Mr. Chatters the hood of a '74 El Camino parked out back of a 7-11 on the King George Highway? Giving it the title "desk" seems like Mr. Chatters is attempting to put on airs, to me. And we all know that this city in general, and this board in particular loves nothing better than to knock down the pretensious. I suggest Mr. Chatters brace for impact.

THe only redeeming feature I can think of this show is that being on Bravo, "the dancer “this close” to making it" will go tits out before the the second commercial break. And that's something I think we all agree is a good thing.

If I was a petty man, I'd suggest the chef would be a tough lunkhead, loveable but gruff, maybe a little thick. When the critics cry type casting, I'd write a letter to the editor of TV Guide suggesting, no not at all. In fact they nailed it bang on. But I'm bigger than that, so I won't.

Screw everything I wrote above, the mere presence of the abbreviation 'hood in a press release denotes level ten suckitude. It'll suck worse than the steak tartare festival at Sammy J. Peppers.

Valid points all, but we need to bear in mind the fact that Mr. Maw is a shamless shill. Just last week I couldn't sleep, was up late flipping channels and there it was; An infomercial featuring the infamous Mr. Tom Vu, everyones favourite hardscrable Vietnamese late eighties realestate speculator telling us how to make money flipping Yaletown condos, and who was wearing a too small Speedo on the deck of Mr. Vu's yacht? None other than Jamie Maw. Sweater from the Cosby collection thrown over his tanned shoulders, Jamie told us, the horrified insomniacs, that he was earning OVER FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS A WEEK using techniques learned from Mr. Vu. His deceipt is apparent to any of us than have seen him tooling around town, returning empties in his rusted out '76 Civic, (gotta give the man credit however, using that coat hangar as an antenna shows real ingenuity). Sam, you have a finned brother/alterego here in town by any chance? And all you open minded individuals might actually want to see the show before forming an opinion, I feel no such constraint. I'll go out on a limb and say sight unseen, it sucks. Much like how I don't need to eat at "Phineas Q. MacCrazypants, Old Fashioned Good Time Food and Drinks Emporium" to know it'll be deep fried lowest common denominator food, with headache inducing decor, the very name and setup lets me know the show'll be horrid. Key words in the shill release that tip me off are "fubky, high-enery, sexy, comedy/drama, uber, 'hood." And that's just from the first couple sentences, no need to parse further.

I'm starting a petition to have Jamie banned until he signs a declaration promising to pun no more. Anyway, next door to the Point No Point is the Fossil Bay Resort, which is superior to my mind. More private, smaller and more importantly, more private. It's as pretty as Long Beach, with out the death march-like commute. Nothing to do in the area, with perhaps the exception of driving to River Jordan to watch the surfers. Plus across the street from the beach is a retaurant/takeaway window with quite easily the worst coffee in the universe. Fries are greasy too. Strangely it seems charming rather than irritating. When you're the only place within twenty miles, you don't have to try too hard. And I'll say it at risk of bring down the wrath of the thousands of Tofino lovers here, the beaches are better at that end of the island. Maybe not quite as scenic, but every bit as rugged, and at this time of the year completely deserted. And I mean completely.