Clearly, this blog hasn't exactly been going gangbusters of late. So I'm going to try mixing it up by taking this show over to tumblr. Part of the problem here is I feel compelled to fill space and carry on at length, and I don't think that's my strong suit. Tumblr is more suited to the short, I daresay, bite-sized content that is more my speed. Enough about my artistic travails, though: head over to the new, minimalist and chocolate-y La pluie et le pain for what I hope will be at least monthly servings of content.
Bon appetit.
Lady Marmalade
The first thing you notice about Marmalade Kitchen and Bar is its picture-perfect location overlooking False Creek. We discovered this place quite by accident on a bike ride along the seawall back in spring. We were pulled in by the expansive patio, which is ideally positioned for maximum sun exposure and offers a prime view of Vancouver's most ridiculously attractive as they jog, bike and rollerblade to and from English Bay. Since that first serendipitous visit, I've returned to Marmalade's patio whenever the sun beckons. But a man cannot fill his belly on sea breeze, so it's fortunate that Marmalade's menu acquits itself well.
The surest way for a brunch spot to endear itself to me is with a quality eggs Benedict. On that score, Marmalade has won a place in my heart (and arteries). The generous slathering of hollandaise is thick and lemony, the eggs nicely poached (by hand by the looks of it) and the slabs of ham are crisp and flavourful. The light English Muffins play a supporting role, providing a solid base but never upstaging the hammy-eggy-hollandaisey stars of the show. The hash browns are golden with a crunchy exterior that gives way to a smooth and soft inside.
Other notes:
- The banana French toast comes in a bit on the dry side (in jarring contrast to the molten hot bananas on top), but is tasty nonetheless.
- Lunch-wise, the cheeseburger featured a juicy and flavorful patty, but was awfully light on actual cheese. The accompanying frites, on the other hand, are bistro-perfect: thin and crisp and begging for a mayo bath.
- On the service front, the floor staff can be a bit on the slow side, but when they do get to you, they are as friendly and attentive as one can hope for. Price-wise, Marmalade is good value (you'd pay the same at Milestones or some such chain chowhouse). Though the patio is the main feature, the interior is clean and modern, all dark wood, white walls and geometric shapes.
- A final word: do not under any circumstances order the drip coffee. It's the kind of weak, watery stuff I'd expect from Denny's. Stick with something espresso-based or better yet, order a big, crisp Stella Artois and let your cares drift a way on a tide of suds and sun.
Faux gras
When it comes to real knowledge of food, wine and the restaurant business, I can't pretend to hold a candle to professionals like Andrew Morrison (aka the Urban Diner). I must, however, take issue with this recent defense of foie gras that he penned for the Westender.
Like Morrison, I can take or leave the stuff. Like Morrison, I agree that people should be allowed to consume what they please without the threat of interference by militantly puritanical busybodies. I just wish his argument was better.
Note: all italics below are mine.
Morrison continues:
The bottom line here is that it's possible to defend one's right to choose to eat what one wishes, but to still be conscious of the ethical implications of those choices.
Like Morrison, I can take or leave the stuff. Like Morrison, I agree that people should be allowed to consume what they please without the threat of interference by militantly puritanical busybodies. I just wish his argument was better.
Note: all italics below are mine.
Cruelty is a loaded word when it comes to consumption. It suggests guilt when there should be none. Killing a pig to slake malice or madness is surely cruel, but doing so for bacon is decidedly not.It's a purely consequentialist argument and certainly a convenient one for someone in Morrison's line of work, but it's still specious reasoning. It's almost Catholic: by consuming the flesh, they sins are forgiven.
The means of death are irrelevant as long as the animal is eaten. If we had to strangle a cow to make it taste better, we most certainly would.
Morrison continues:
As long as an animal is killed for more than just its skin, fin, or fur, diners should be allowed, without let or hindrance, to consume it.It's interesting to note the inclusion of fur in there, since there's ample parallels between fur and foie gras. Both fur-farmed animals and foie gras birds live short, nasty existences in often unspeakable conditions. In both cases, the end product is not in any way essential to survival. Rather, fur coats and foie gras are luxury items. Given that, it's hypocritical to defend one but reject the other.
In the end, robbing a few restaurants of fattened duck liver in this troubled day and age is like fighting raindrops in a terrifying monsoon.This is a classic false dilemma with a strawman mixed in. First, I'm not sure anti-foie gras activists would claim to have cornered the market on ethics. Second, whether or not you agree with their position or tactics, it's a fee country and what issues they choose to focus on is their prerogative. There's certainly nothing stopping anyone from lobbying against foie gras and for protection of endangered species. In fact, both share a common philosophical foundation which states how we treat animals is a measure of us as a society. Likewise, destroying vital habitat to build McManisons, hunting rare animals for sport or factory farming pigs, cows and ducks are different manifestations of the same hypercapitalist impulse for profit and self-gratification at all costs. Given that Morrison seems to be a big supporter of the burgeoning focus on local and organic ingredients, both of which include a strong ethical component, his defense of foie gras seems rather out of place.
...
If (anti-foie gras activists Liberation BC) had cornered the market on ethics, they’d be concentrating on far more vital and immediate concerns, like saving creatures facing immediate extinction.
The bottom line here is that it's possible to defend one's right to choose to eat what one wishes, but to still be conscious of the ethical implications of those choices.
The Citizen
I just returned from a few days in Toronto for the North By North East music fest. Among the highlights of the trip were two visits to The Citizen, located on Queen Street East. I can't say we were anything but blown away by chef and proprietor Rodney Bower's creation in the heart of the still-sketchy Riverside area. The Citizen's light hearted atmosphere belies the richness of its fare: new interpretations of Old World classics like schnitzel (a favourite, judging by the fact it was unavailable on our dinner visit) and pasta standards. Brunch (or, as Bowers dubs it, "Lupper") is simply a revelation: the braised beef hash, rich with tomatoes and topped with a poached egg was a popular and universally prised selection. Bowers himself is impishly affable, emerging from the kitchen to chat up guests and bus tables. During our brunch visit, Bowers told us he wanted The Citizen to be known as a destination spot. I know I'll certainly make a point of heading there whenever I'm in the Big Smoke.
Cascade Room
This is the Cascade Room, a relatively recent addition to the Main Street scene. Brought to you by the folks behind Habit (located next door), The Cascade successfully brings together solid pub fare, exceptional drinks and a hip-yet-accessible aesthetic.
The room itself is a open and warm space; the hokey Queen Victoria lampshades, exposed beams and prominent World War Two-era slogans exhorting us to "keep calm and carry on" all flirt with pub kitsch, but the effect is offset by sleek black vinyl, polished wood, the now obligatory heavily tattoo'd front of house staff and an overall air of sophistication that sets Cascade apart from the run-of-the-mill Plastic Paddy joint.
Once ensconced at a table, the bar or in the small dining area in the back of the room near the kitchen, one is immediately presented with the Herculean task of choosing from the enormous cocktail menu that is the Cascade's centerpiece. I found the eponymous signature cocktail underwhelming, but the martinis consistently hit the spot (read: my liver). You can stick with a standby or experiment: chances are, you'll find something on there worth ordering again. The gargantuan selection tends to overwhelm the other beverage choices, but once you get past the need for an aperitif, the compact wine list and sizable selection of beers will give you something to pair with your meal (the house draught Cascade lager is a good choice for a very good price).
The food menu offers few surprises, but some nice twists. The organic greens are as good a salad as you'll find for eight bucks these days. The calamari is crisp and delicately spicy and, when paired with the outstanding polenta fries, make an ideal nosh for a small group or a hungry pair (portion sizes are not an issue here).
Yum.
As far as entrees go, the venison bolognese is hearty with a slight gamey taste offset by lemon and subtle tang of capers. The lamb sirloin sandwich and Cascade burger are good, albeit a bit heavy on the bread front. I've heard good things of the pizzas, and they certainly look good, though my personal preference for thick crusts over thin has held me back from sampling them.
A couple of warnings: service can be spotty, particularly when it's busy as it usually is on weekend nights. I doubt it's a coincidence my best experiences with Cascade have been on Sunday-Wednesday evenings. And if you are sensitive or want an intimate chat, you'll be disappointed: the open room, abundant alcohol and often ear-splitting music create a din that can make conversation a chore. Personally, I don't mind a little bit of a racket in a watering hole: if The Cascade leaned further to the restaurant side of the coin, we'd have a problem.
Overall, nothing about the Cascade will blow your mind. It's an excellent place for drinks and a solid-but-unspectacular dinner option (I hear they are adding a lunch menu, FYI). It's certainly as close as you're going to get to a happening neighbourhood pub-type establishment here in No-Fun City and a refreshing break from the ubiquitous "small plates" focused places that seemingly make up 90 per cent of new restaurants in Vancouver. For those reasons, The Cascade stands near the top of my default dinner-out options.
Digression
With our manifesto out of the way, I thought I’d spare a moment to talk about this dreadful faux populist piece from the dreadful faux-populist newspaper, The Vancouver Province.
Part of me thinks I can’t come down too hard on the writer: the right-wing, culture of perpetual victimhood card is played so heavily as to give the piece the appearance of satire or the half-hearted fulfillment of some editorial decree. It’s hard to imagine someone resorting to such transparent pandering in good faith. But at the same time, given the source, it’s hard not to take it at face value. To the meat of the matter:
The implication that hoity-toity eateries are killing off the favoured establishments of the little guy might hold water if the subsequent examples were not simply illustrations of the sink-or-swim ethos that is a fact of life in the restaurant business. That would be the “free market” that The Province faves like the Fraser Institute tout as the solution to all mankind’s problems in all its glory.
A city with a highly competitive dining scene like Vancouver’s will chew up and spit out more than its fair share of eateries-even good ones-over time. "Old standbys” are the exception, not the norm. There’s innumerable reasons restaurants go under (as the author of the Province piece concedes, albeit indirectly), but to take the inherent volatility of the industry and turn it into class war ammunition is, in the parlance of our medium, an EPIC FAIL.
Um…okay. Speaking only for myself, I love a good burger. I’m sure that’s an opinion shared by many a (non-vegetarian) left-winger. And even if one’s tastes don’t run in that direction, most people would probably agree that Big Fast-food’s labour, environmental and health practices are the heart of the problem, and not hamburgers per se. This is ludicrous straw-man bashing barely worthy of any response.
The argument that the success and proliferation of high-end, locally and organically focused restaurants is coming at the expense of more proletarian dining options defies logic and evidence. More than 100 restaurants opened in Vancouver in 2007. If you can’t find a good, cheap meal in this town, you’re probably not looking very hard.
Part of me thinks I can’t come down too hard on the writer: the right-wing, culture of perpetual victimhood card is played so heavily as to give the piece the appearance of satire or the half-hearted fulfillment of some editorial decree. It’s hard to imagine someone resorting to such transparent pandering in good faith. But at the same time, given the source, it’s hard not to take it at face value. To the meat of the matter:
…in my view, all is not well in what some proudly refer to as "Canada's culinary capital." That's because, while high-end dining rooms proliferate for the sake of a privileged few, some old standbys that cater to the rest of us are shutting their doors.
The implication that hoity-toity eateries are killing off the favoured establishments of the little guy might hold water if the subsequent examples were not simply illustrations of the sink-or-swim ethos that is a fact of life in the restaurant business. That would be the “free market” that The Province faves like the Fraser Institute tout as the solution to all mankind’s problems in all its glory.
A city with a highly competitive dining scene like Vancouver’s will chew up and spit out more than its fair share of eateries-even good ones-over time. "Old standbys” are the exception, not the norm. There’s innumerable reasons restaurants go under (as the author of the Province piece concedes, albeit indirectly), but to take the inherent volatility of the industry and turn it into class war ammunition is, in the parlance of our medium, an EPIC FAIL.
The demise of Wally's won't be mourned by all, mind you. The vocal food police -- who tend to rail against anything that isn't organic, local or low-calorie -- must be doing cartwheels over the closure.
And the fact that owners of carbon-spewing hot rods, collector cars and mini-vans packed with noisy children have one fewer dining option should leave politically- correct types snickering with glee.
Um…okay. Speaking only for myself, I love a good burger. I’m sure that’s an opinion shared by many a (non-vegetarian) left-winger. And even if one’s tastes don’t run in that direction, most people would probably agree that Big Fast-food’s labour, environmental and health practices are the heart of the problem, and not hamburgers per se. This is ludicrous straw-man bashing barely worthy of any response.
Where indeed? It seems to me that there’s no shortage of low-end chow in this town. The usual suspects (White Spot, McDicks, Burger King) are inescapable, while indie outfits like the Tempelton or Splitz Grill abound. There’s also a host of equally good value Asian, Latin American and other “ethnic” joints to be found from Point Grey to Boundary Road. Indeed, the sheer number of culinary options from high-end to low-brow is one of the best things about Vancouver.
With summer almost upon us, Vancouver is once again welcoming visitors from around the world, and not all of them will be hankering for foie gras or fugu. Many will be on the prowl for down-to-earth grub served in a friendly setting at a reasonable price. Let's hope they find what they're looking for. Otherwise, value-conscious and snobbery-averse tourists will be asking the same question that Wally's Burgers loyalists asked in the wake of its saddening closure: Where's the beef?
The argument that the success and proliferation of high-end, locally and organically focused restaurants is coming at the expense of more proletarian dining options defies logic and evidence. More than 100 restaurants opened in Vancouver in 2007. If you can’t find a good, cheap meal in this town, you’re probably not looking very hard.
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