Andrew Morrison

I'm still struggling with the image of the manager walking past with his staff meal...someday that guys first day is gonna end. Reminds me of the Watermark staff members once overheard in Yaletown boasting about how much money they'd made. Jerry Bruckheimer makes top-grossing films, but they still suck. How would I handle it? Keep in mind I'm wearing my waiter hat as I write this... My first instinct would be to blame the late guests and then make light of their hunger: - "I wished you'd called ahead! With the fog we had a very slow evening so we shut down earlier than expected. You might not want to subject yourself to my cooking, but I'll do what it takes to insure you enjoy yourselves. Let me get you a wine list..." Seriosuly, though...A good manager takes the neo-con approach to pre-emption. In this situation they should first express flattery and regret. "I'm sorry we can't meet your request, but we're happy that you thought of us on such a special occasion." And then go into action and earn their tip-out: "There are a number restaurants nearby. Can I make a few recommendations and perhaps arrange a table for you? I know the maitre'd at such and such and I'm sure I can get them to squeeze you in" Lastly, to insure this never happened again, I'd post photos of restaurant critics in the staff training manual. Now, don't jump on me for that, everyone. I never want to be recognized when I'm reviewing, but's ridiculous that someone like Jamie Maw, a very recognizable public figure, can walk in with an 8-top and have his party get treated so off-handedly. It simply shouldn't happen. Maybe at a low-end ma and pop, but at a multi-million dollar beachside bohemoth? Hell no. It's just loopy. It's not uncommon to find a binder hidden in the hostess stand that holds headshots of all the restaurant critics and prominent concierges. Truthfully, I find it mind-boggling someone on staff didn't recognize you, Jamie. I know you wouldn't expect them to call their chefs back or do a little food dance in the hope a shower of canapes and amuse would fall, but it would be difficult to argue against the fact that things would have been different if they'd known who you were. The lesser crime is that they didn't. Anyway, thanks for saving me $100

Premature evacuation...nice. I was having dinner at Cassis last night before they lost power, too. Just moments after I paid my check, out went the lights. They were getting packed (twas the start of the dinner rush), but they handled it with aplomb. Candles were distributed and the show went on. The west side of Beatty was all out, but the east side was lit up just fine. I popped into Chambar for a quick Stella and things were purring as per usual. A walk up through Yaletown, dodging cars unused to the absence of traffic lights, found the restaurants up and running again. I think it couldn't have lasted more than 20 minutes, which is a lifetime when you've got a grill full of steaks and a deep fryer filled with squid. Up at Araxi a couple Saturdays ago, I was having dinner with Eric Pateman and Jack Evrensel when Jack was pulled away from the table by a phone call. The fire alarm at Cin Cin was tripped. Bwa Bwa Bwa Bwa!!! Right at the start of their evening rush. They had to shut down the restaurant for the night - on a Saturday no less. All this when Cin Cin's GM, Sebastien, had made the trip up for Cornucopia and was busy pouring us wine as his dear patrons on Robson were subjected to mega decibel screetching. I would have loathed to be the "manager on duty" left in charge of the restaurant when that went down. Yikes. Similar things have happened to me before while working the floor. I've had fire alarms go off, sprinkler systems soak diners mid-meal, and even a naked man wander into one restaurant I worked at. The GM, a delicate gal, completely lost it, and the unclothed, picturesquely endowed man was ushered out by two beefy customers who had their dinners accordingly comped. The worst, though, was on September 11th, 2001. We were just starting an early lunch for Paramount Pictures (or Miramax or 20th Century Fox) at Prego during the Toronto Film Fest. As the news trickled in of the days horrific events and it became clear that it was a terrorist attack, the eating came to an understandable standstill. Busboys would return from the kitchen (where the radio was) to deliver morbid updates like "It's confirmed, they did get the Pentagon, but no news yet on the Capitol". Everyone was freaked out. Many guests just rose and left to get to the nearest television (most of the guests were Americans from New York). Needless to say, the rest of the Film Fest was cancelled. Rumours flung around the room about Toronto skyscrapers being evacuated (they were). I couldn't get ahold of my wife on the phone (she was pregnant with Jack) and I became very afraid. A feeling of dread pervaded the restaurant. It was the most awful, fear-ridden, and unforgettable shift I've ever worked, and though my experience of that day were a mere molecule to those who were front and center, it was still so terrifying that I continue to have workmares about it.

Crime Lab has locked the doors and awaits a wrecking ball.

I'm sure Mr. Goethe would agree cursory glances seldom result in worthwhile judgements. But then again, my life has been greatly seasoned with the mighty flavours of the Gullet. And, of course, I'm a freakishly sensitive and very wicked nerd.

If you promise not to put a bounty on my head for the next 12 months, you have a deal. Again, welcome to eGullet, Andre. It's wonderful to have you posting and I'm sure everyone in the Vancouver forum is pleased you've become a member! Have a wonderful winter up there.

First, welcome to eGullet, Andre! I'm sorry your first foray here isn't a sunnier one, but under the circumstances, I don't blame you. Second, my mention of Araxi wasn't a comparison, but a clearly stated contrast (as I wrote). Third, I think anyone who knows me would attest to my love affair with all things remotely Saturnalian. I like a good party, and yours was without doubt a most extraordinary affair. You're work for charity speaks for itself, and you do British Columbia and Canada as a whole a great service by aiming for the moon with Bearfoot. It was my first time up, so I hope if you forgive me for anything it will be for the fact my impressions were those of a tourist. Cornucopia was a wonderful food and wine festival, but everything was peripheral to your Masquerave, where food and wine took second (or sixth) place to carnal excess. The totality of what I didn't like about it was distilled into just one or two graphs for my story, but I could have gone on. Kudos to you for a throwing a big party, but it wasn't my scene (though it was clearly others) and it's my job to tell it how I see it. I'm not saying you were playing disco while I was trying to become one with Mozart, not at all. But when you turn the volume up so damn loud (tigers, naked women, sex shows, spotlights, circus people, etc...), it tends to drown out the larger symphony. You have a beautiful restaurant Andre, and I'd love the opportunity to go again, but I'll opt for the table service and relative tranquility of a February evening rather than having to weave through an army of bouncers and middle-aged drunks with boners in perpetuity going ga-ga for go-go puffs. Next year I hear rumours of a Mardi Gras theme for Masquerave and an expenditure of over 1.5 million dollars. I can only imagination what kind of Caligulaic fun that will be, and thus primed with my first experience, I will be better armed to handle the second. If I offended you, my apologies, and If I don't get an invite back...I knew what I was getting into when I wrote: I am tasked with being frank. I write not just about what I eat and drink, but what I feel and think. And stovetop, I like to get down. I like to shimmy and groove and get silly with booze. At times, I like to fall flat on my face and writhe like a gecko caught in a maginfying glass. If Bearfoot's Masquerave was a Western, then I am John freakin' Wayne. I just thought it was poorly juxtaposed against a wine and food festival, and that's what I wrote.

I've removed the copy of my hard to link column for I remembered this is Gill's thread, not mine. Edited so to stay OT.

Throughout, I spied just two buff boys meandering around in dental thongs, but the only thing I saw them carrying was embarrassment. Perhaps they were overzealous guests.

Thanks for the report, Jamie.

From waiterblog this morning. Just got off the phone with one of the up and coming chefs who won the seat lottery for last nights Charlie Trotter dinner at Lumiere. By his account, it was outstanding (and not a little inspirational). The surprise capper? One of the six winners won a stage with Trotter in Chicago. Who? Adesso Bistro’s Lucais Syme. Congratulations! As far as I know, none of the guests were eGulls save Mr. Maw. How'd it go?

double post - sorry

I know it's OT, but snacky cat is awesome. Very well put with the metric assload.

Kudos to Ms. Gill. For those who made mention of her fish bladder hiccup there was this correction: "Mea culpa! In last week's column, I scoffed at the suggestion that wine might be filtered through fish bladders. Actually, many wines are fined with small drops of substances that contain animal products to clear up cloudiness and sediment." Read her encapsulating Cornucopia column here here.

I thought so too, but up in Whistler this past weekend she and I were within eye-scratching distance (BTW, beautiful red dress, Ms. Gill) outside Araxi smoking and drinking to our liver and lungs' content. She didn't raise a paw or a glance my way (I was, however, camouflaged in an evening gown studded with the errant doings of my Bedazzler - three more easy payments and it's mine all mine). I love the poutine at Chambar.

I get my copy at Capers in West Van. Thanks for the info, Jamie. What about restaurants? Any volunteered for a stack?

Habit Lounge (warning - website is content light) opened up on Main Street tonight (from the people who brought us Kitsilano's Tangerine. Awesome dinner in an awesome little room). I've jotted down a few pre-review lines down here, but I'd like to hear what you all think of the place after you check it out for the first time. To pair with my 1516 Bavarian? Moroccan spiced free-run chicken wings glazed with orange-chili and pomengranate. Best wings ever, but there were only 7 of them for $10. I'm used to indulging in 25 cent wings of the deep-fried and grim kind (mild, hot, or suicidal - you know the score). It was the only shocker. Small wine list, 5 seat bar with four 16oz pours on tap. Fun and pretty.

Let me rephrase this properly so it isn't so rhetorical: "Do I really want to eat Nigiri with warm rice off the body of a naked woman?" Yes, fud, and I'd even volunteer for the hot beer chaser.

Not to pooh-pooh on the phoenix meme, but when that lease is up on Granville Rise (they have a newish landlord), anyone think it won't go up astronomically? I'm not saying the fat lady has sung, but she's definitely in the room (perhaps busily chowing down on a schnitzel).

You can find the winners here.

Barring any last minute hiccups, Habit plans to open their doors softly this Wednesday.

Just got back in town and will tell of last night later this evening. For now, I am lord of the lego until my boys pass out. At Araxi, the Big Guns used both barrels, no question. One of the finest meals I've had in B.C.

They did touch on over-extraction, but whenever Wesson had the mike he'd just riff hilariously. We tasted the following - no notes, so please excuse spelling and my poor memory: The new Corduniu Pinot Rose (did this just come on the market?) Kim Crawford Pinot Noir from New Zealand (lovely) Moillard Mercurey from Burgundy Valdivieso Pinot Noir from Chile Caymus Pinot Noir (!) Never seen this before Crush last night. Caymus makes a Pinot? Santa Barbara. Lots of alcohol and tannins for a Pinot. Domain Drouhin Pinot Noir from Oregon (awesome) I'm sure there are others, but be gentle with my taxed state. I'm surprised I even made it down to the village today. Edible Eric was there, too. Perhaps he took his notes with him....

Damn, I was going to use the word "Pornotopia" in my story. Thanks for the heads up. Just returned from a fascinating, informative, and very humorous seminar on Pinot Noir hosted by James Nevison and Joshua Wesson. I'd met James before, but never Joshua. The guy is a constant crack-up. Who knew wine could be so amusing? Everyone is very hung over from last night, and to be honest, the last thing I wanted to do today was another eight wines. These guys brought me back to my fighting weight and I'm ready for more. Back to the hotel now for some water on my face before heading down to Araxi for the Big Guns dinner. How the hell to I post photos again? If anyone has the time and the inclination, please PM me some instructions tailored to the technically challenged! Wish you were all here.

No. It's all about Bearfoot and naked women getting dipped in chocolate. I'm not at all being facetious, and it's a sentiment I've gleaned swimming in varied circles over the last couple of days. Everything feels peripheral to Andre's annual ejaculate. Don't get me wrong, I had a wonderful time last night and my eyes were wider than they've ever been. The music was good and the place was hopping, but I've been writing for most of the day and my thoughts keep returning to a point I find tricky to refute. The Cornucopia I had hoped for was highjacked by the glitzfest. There were some wonderful seminars and I thoroughly enjoyed the Araxi after-party. I was introduced to some new vintages at the trade tasting and I was able to share in my delight with some great company, but everything seemed clouded by a child-like fixation with the "excesses" of Masquerave. Even Crush, the gala centrepiece, seemed a mere addendum to it. To me at least, the shebang ended up coming across like a circle jerk play written and financed by reckless adolescents armed with nuclear-powered penis pumps. Not really my scene. Perhaps I'm just getting boring...

Hammered. Jesus. Someone help me.