Andrew Morrison

Happy Chinese New Year. 2005 - The Year of the Waiter. Be serving you soon!

Uh-oh...now I have a rep to protect. Gimme a beer, half a bottle of Sangiovese and 2 Americanos and out Mr. Walken comes. As for Adesso...wow. I'm sold. I'll be doing a write up later today (here and later in wb) but the short of is that executive chef Travis Williams' plates were simple, straight-forward, and excellent. An old exec chef I used to work for in Toronto had a philosophical mantra that still holds true for me today: The best Italian food should be the simplest expression of the fewest ingredients. Pretty basic, but true. Adesso gets it. As a well-meaning mangiacake, I converted to this approach to Italian cuisine long ago, and last night I found that if there was any dish that could sit side by side and compete with the mythological significance of Neil's hangar steak, it Travis' vitello tonnato. (Ling, I also had the risotto balls and they, too, were delicious). I enjoyed myself. The vibe of the place is completely without pretension. The bar is literally at the kitchen's edge, so as you sip you can't help but watch Travis work. Mr. Maw's pizza looked delicious (but that's his business... ). Great wine list with an overt italian focus, but not at the expense you'd find in the more shishi Italian joints in town. Very well chosen for the price points, I thought. Above all, the hospitality was beyond reproach. This is very much a family affair, with Travis, Joseph and Lucas playing the role of the well-loved adoptees. Thanks to Gianfranco and Travis for a great evening, and to Mr. Maw for the company. Ciao, Vitello Tonnato! I'll be back soon.

Cin Cin's new dessert menu came out this morning... It includes...wait for it Ling...take home, handmade chocolates by all-star pastry chef Thierry Busset. Have a glass of pinot at the bar while you wait... Find me a chocolatier that offers that in this town.

Luckily, I'm just that swank. That is, despite being an idiot and a drooler as noted elsewhere. I've always enjoyed temple but I make a point of avoiding it after 9pm and especailly on the weekends simply for the reasons you state above. The food is excellent and the concept is indicative of the potential victoria has to really start putting itslef on the map. I did a lot of growing up there in the restaurant world, and so did most of my friends. It's a tough gig. The place just dies from November to April. Since Zambri's, Brasserie L'ecole, Brio, and Temple opened I've been hoping for more interesting places to spring up, but I'm still waiting... In the meantime, these 4 represent a move in a very positive direction. Didn't Saltaire open up a location in Vic? How's that coming along?

What about Foo Hong's in Chinatown? Awesome food. Service so incredibly bad it's almost entertaining to be subjected to. Perhaps the restaurants that are skipping out on DOVic have lurkers on staff who read our threads of this past month with trepidation (written listening to Fleetwood Mac sing "You can go your own waaay....") Is Temple in or out?

If I have time I'll swing by afterwards and bring you some bengay and tums. Oh, and I'll pick up your walker from the shop (got bent on the line during DOV -- damn lowboys!). PM me any perscriptions you need filled, old man. Seriously, I need a night off. What better way to spend it than in restaurants?

I'm also rather unattractive and a bit of a drooler.

Twas off to the side, far removed from the urinals. Silly person.

Deborah, I think I used the cfd word because I was so impressed with the decor, the layout, and the vibe. It would be a small leap for these guys to get into the "fine" category. Everything is in place for that transition except the food. It wasn't bad. It wasn't excellent. It was just good. It's the fault of the demographic that they are trying (and I imagine they've had immense success here) to capture that they skimp on excellence from the kitchen. I presume they just want to please a growing culture of dumb -- dumbed down tastes, dumbed down expectations, and an under-appreciation of the elevated dining plane. I had a feeling that the guests would much rather eat their fajitas than sup from the genius of Senor Hawksworth. That's fine. In other words...just gimme a burger and allow me to feel cool as I gargle my Wolfblass. Is that my phone? That dude in the mini better not scratch my hummer... Still, I was impressed. The look and feel is so far removed from any other Cactus Club i've seen. Very swank.

So I’m all a flutter at work about website troubles and a myriad of other things that pick away at me like staccato taps of 20 fingers on a strung out banjo that’s seen better days. I get 4 tables on a slow night. I leave early. My wife and I are in the midst of a move from a one bedroom apartment to a three bedroom house. We share a 3,000 volume library and have been moving it, one painful carload at a time. After that comes the various pieces of ornamental bric-a-brac, such as our couch, bed, 10 book cases, dining set, etc…you get the picture. I’m a weak, little man. Moving sucks for me. I’ve enlisted the help of three of my colleagues (our bar manager and two servers) to help move the heavy stuff (in exchange for beers at the pub and sweet-ass karma) and so far I’ve only lifted about 500 books in progressively crumbling boxes. But as a consequence, tonight I’m dead tired. My back aches. I’m hungry. I’m stressed. Choice A: get on with the packing, the editing, the manifesting, and so on. Choice B: go buy more coffee and get a bite somewhere in West Vancouver. It’s 10:00pm. After a bodum ground pound of Starbucks’ Sumatra is paid for I slip back into the car and cruise down Marine Drive towards the Lion’s Gate Bridge. Cindy’s? Closed. Marecelo’s? Closed. Beach Side Cafe? Closed. What are my options? Fast food… Hell no. Instead, I turn right into the new development in the south part of Park Royal that boasts a Lululemon. a Cafe Artigiano, a Starbucks (maybe 6 of them) and a Whole Foods. A pretty ambitious set, like the Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse. In the midst of this new monument to purchasing, nay…at it’s nexus, is a brand-spanking new Cactus Club. Now, I’m an idiot and a snob. Though I’m piss poor, I don’t value good value. But after tonight I’m as close a convert as I’ve ever been to the Church of Casual Fine Dining. Again, it’s 10:00pm. Everything appears to be closed except the Cactus Club. I’ve walked passed the place on my way in and out of shops. I’ve been curious, but also suspicious. My years in fine dining have stifled my appreciation for things more ordinary. It’s embarrassing. But it appears now that I’ve always mistakenly categorized the Cactus Club as uber-ordinary. I walk up and take a fresh look. From the outside it looks like a suburban 60’s highschool designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and a hand-picked group of kraftwerk fans and cubists on coke. I walked in and wanted to slap myself for my foolishness. It’s a gorgeous room. The layout is literally breathtaking. Is that an Andy Warhol print of Chairman Mao over there? Wtf? It is! This is a Cactus Club? What’s Next? The Castroburger? Hipster politico aesthetics goes mainstream…who knew? Awesome artichoke shaped chandeliers hold court over the dining room. I see Chef Eric Foskett’s smaller plates going out on the arms of servers. I sit at the oval bar with 25 seats and survey another 50 seats in the lounge. Behind me are 70 seats in the dining room. Think deep red leatherette banquettes, under-lit lounge tables low-hung for casual martinis and comfy draping of the languid lululemon set. Beyond the dining room is the patio which gets de-flowered soon. It’ll hold another 75 people. I checked it out. Bubbling fountain (the Trevi it ain’t. More like something from Naboo), heatlamps, and thoughtfully placed plants are suggestive of the long, summer nights just around the corner. Not bad for a space in the newest strip mall. Not bad at all. These guys spent some coin getting this place so well dressed. What’s more, there are people here. Again, it’s 10:00pm on a Monday night—in West Van. What’s going on here? They’re mostly young guys. A few dates. A gaggle of girls drinking cosmos and crantinis. A cacophony of cellphones play the discordant tune of the twenty-somethings that abound. I spy a six-top of older guys doing business (explains the two Ferrari’s I saw in the parking lot—sorry about the ding on your door, buddy.). There’s a group of guys watching Lakers highlights on several strategically places plasmas. But it’s much more than a place to watch the game. Contributing to the relaxed mix is the drinks list. It’s very well considered. You get the feeling that there were actual meetings (complete with laptops and takeout coffee stained blueprints struggling to stay unscrolled) to discuss at length what should and what shouldn’t get put on the list. It’s that well-chosen. 20 wines by the glass, from low-level and mid-range goodies such as Wolfblass and Blue Mountain. Their “reserve” list sports cultish wines like Conundrum and Caymus’ Cabernet ($150). The wine-snob in me was pleased to see that much thought get put into so few wines. They even had a Brunello (Frescobaldi)! From an inside point of view it’s a server’s paradise. It appeared to be a good team atmosphere. Small sections (4 tables per waitron is their magic number). Lots of young staff. Excellent training. The management team of GM Todd Pocklington and AM Ryan Proctor run a tight crew. I was certainly served well. Friendly folks to the bone. The food? Chef Eric Foskett’s crew prepare some imaginative dishes with notable consistency. Kung Pao Chicken with soft rice noodles, peppers, cilantro, broccoli, and a spicy cocunut sauce pleasantly lit my taste buds on fire. 4 different burgers (including 2 veggie options) – try the one with the Jack Daniels BBQ sauce. Quesadillas and Fajitas galore. Lots of sharable dishes. Quality? No pretensions here…this ain’t fine dining. It’s good food at good value, but I suspect their business model steers their motivation towards the margin, rather than excellence in the kitchen…and that’s ok. The food was good. The menus were interesting. We should be grateful for what they’re trying to do: provide us with affordable alternative to fine dining. They serve unique and simple food in an uber-cool atmosphere that makes you feel as if your plates are costing $30 bucks a pop rather than $10. Inarguably, it’s a goldmine location and a promising amalgamation of some interesting concepts. But above all, if they can help West Vancouver stay up a little later, they will have contributed to the greater good of society at large. One final note: they’ve got just about the coolest bathrooms I’ve ever seen. Plush red carpet. Overstuffed leather chair. Personal tv’s in the stalls. Soaring black and white canvas of bison on a windswept prairie. They’ve caught on to a little known trade secret, that the first time you usually catch your breath at a new restaurant to even consider judging it always occurs in the solitude of the bathroom. Like I said, well-thought out.

"Good luck, fresh meat" said the combat weary Private Waiterblog as he limped awkwardly towards the Huey. He still bled from the corkscrew shrapnel wound from the previous night's patrol. The boy with the clean uniform stared wistfully skyward as the chopper climbed slowly up over the jungle canopy, his fatigues fluttering in the rotor wash.... Waiterblog was almost home...his tour was all but over. He stared back at the sad sack just in from the world as he floated further up, closer to a place farther removed from the DMZ, oops...I mean DOV. Good luck Victoria...make sure everything is bolted down.

I'd like to hear more about Chi and Adesso...but Pair sounds yummy. Never been.

I sense an eGullet gathering coming on...

Hmm, risotto balls sound excellent. For the benefit of the Kits uneducated could you please translate the location for me? Is it sketchy? Out of the way?

Whoever thought of risotto balls? Elk is where it's at, baby! Bjorn (Matt terror of Nordlundesntrume High School -- Grad '88) Thanks again to waiterblog for letting me use his account.

New Kits place I haven't seen mentioned on the boards yet called Adesso. Opened 20 days ago sans fanfare al a eGullet. I feel foiled! Seriously, the chef is Travis Williams formerly of Blue Water and Cin Cin. Anyone been? What's it like? The menus look intruiging...vitello tonnato....ooooohhhhh!!!!! Address: 2201 West 1st Avenue. Here's the website, gimme the skinny.

Awesome. So true

Are you kidding? Harry Snepts and Gary Lupul made a visit to my hometown of Ornskoldsvik (100 miles north of Stockholm) and went on an elk ball binge after the collapse of '82. They were the toast of the town. When they left (to go fishing in the fiords around Narvik) they were carried to the snowmobiling station on the backs of wolves. Harold in particular was a sweet man. He taught my wife, Olganskishva, how to properly trim her moustache (hard to do when the sun is down for 3 months a year). He also showed me (i'll never forget this, so help me Thor), how to throw an elbow. Chef Sven-Chen still talks about the time he cooked for Snepts in Shanghai, during a seniors exhibition game a few years back. He apparently stood a clear 3 feet above all the local geriatrics who came to play against his travelling team (the Bengay Tigers) and chewed on a ginseng stub for the entire 3rd period (half of which was spent in the box). Damn People's Army refs! He endeared himself to the locals rather easily, so the story goes. I think therein lies Chef Sven-Chen's penchant for the game. Me, though I've been a hockey lover long before I served my first tray of elk balls in Canada, I still yearn for the outdoor game of my youth in Ornskoldsvik, when we used penguins for pucks and old Russian bolt-actions for sticks. We'd light bonfires of peat and eat seal meat, fresh from behind the blue line. Those were the days (and nights!), I tell you.

our government needs to subsidise Canada's role in the missile defense program. Yes, I believe they do. I think if it inspires one out of every 25 DOV customers to return at other times during the year it's a success. As for regular patrons feeling put off by DOV, most diners know the score -- January and February are difficult months for us. That being said, I think just doing the DOV menus exclusively is just a raised white flag of surrender. Where's the showcase when you do this? Again: give us your tired, you poor, your huddled masses... I'm glad to hear that West was able to accomodate your needs. Having your server "quip" about DOV, cokes, and pulling 3 turns sounds a tad unlikely at West, but I'll take your word for it. After 3 turns I'd probably shed some decorum, too. As for your experience at Brix, it sounds like you lost the lotto on the wine flights which is really too bad. Shit happens. Every time I've been there it's been top notch from top to bottom, especially in the wine department. I hope you have better luck the next time you take a trip north. Next time, try the food at Brix...outstanding.

I really, really do.

Gimme the bar any day. I like to perch.

No. Not moose balls! We haven't had moose in Sweden since the Pleistocene, and we called them giant elk, to be sure. The flavours between moose balls and elk balls are decidedly different to even the most inexperienced palate. Besides, Chef Sven Chen would loathe to have anything even marginally associated with Canada (other than hockey on the plasma -- he's a big Snepts fan) in his restaurant. Besides, moose balls are for plebs. Elk balls are so succulent. Now, off to Ikea in my Volvo... Bjorn (Matt, lover of skiing and shooting simultaneously)

Fresh is ideal, but since we live in an area devoid of fresh penguin (this ain't Sweden, my Canadian wife likes to tell me - over and over ), you can get excellent tinned penguin at the Whole Foods in west van, and some of the fancier markets in Yaletown. Honestly, a good, garbage fed crow or pigeon from Stanley Park does the job. Ask petulant princess! She was stuffing our balls in her face so much, I don't think she could tell the difference between fresh penguin and Skageraak beluga with a stunted palate like hers. Too much maple syrup, methinks. Bjorn. (Matt of the Luge)

At least you don't have this job.

Dude, you guys are gettin' off sooo easy, man. Sven is pissed. Matt (the Muscle) - Bjorn Thorsenblorgenstadtlanderen