Things I have learned eating in Vancouver for two weeks
There is no good coffee downtown. There is only fair to adequate coffee on
the peninsula that has to be teased out from between the
ubiquitous Starbucks. (I am waiting for the onslaught of
medical conditions suffered by people walking around
stiff-armed with foofy coffee drinks gripped tight like a Lego
hand. Maybe everyone is already inured, though, having to carry
an umbrella all the time.)
Once you cross any of the bridges, going South, I can recommend the place on the corner of Spruce and 9th
and Cafe Calabria on Commercial Drive. Probably any spot on
Commercial Drive with a TV set and clusters of old Italian men
watching football, or Formula-1 racing, is worth visiting but there's only so much
espresso a person can drink in one afternoon so I can't say.
UPDATE:
Heh, alright alright - I will update the post. This is the
second person who's mentioned Coo
Koo. I had no idea what it was called but I found it pretty
soon after I got here in December.
It is good, but that's because all they serve is Illy which
is kind of like cheating. Well, not really but it's not as
though anyone actually approaches this problem rationally.
There are no good baguettes. Anywhere. I'm pretty sure I've tried everything the city
has to offer, now. That doesn't mean
there aren't good breads but the baguette remains
something of an enigma here. It does not occupy the same place of
imagination for people perhaps because they also favour eating
cheese on crackers. Which only adds to the mystery.
There are no good pastries, unless you like Pollack-esque
chocolate swirls on your pain au chocolat and a quarter-inch of
glazed sugar on everything else. Even the bakery at the Culinary
Institute does it so it's best just to think of it the same way
you do, say, "tofu fish".
It is possible to get a reasonable range of good cheeses not
already cut into wedges and suffocated in plastic. At one
store.
Cheeses
from Chapu are not allowed to be exported outside of Québec,
by order of Health Canada; sort of like The Two
Solitudes re-written as a memo by a mid-level
bureaucrat in the chemistry department.
Organic bananas are so cheap here that you have to
believe the prices in the rest of the country are a scam.
No one seems to sell green beans loose, which is just weird.
Korean food. Lunch at a little Korean restaurant, near
Christie Pits, is one of the only good memories I have of the year
I lived in Toronto. I don't know if this is the Korean
neighbourhood, per se, but there sure are a lot of restaurants
and grocery stores nearby. Once I've gotten a little more settled
I am going to learn some recipes.
Vera's burgers, baby. Vera's burgers.
The icing was this
afternoon when the guy behind
the grill looked at my soggy Habs shirt and said :
More people need to wear those colours in this town.
There is no good coffee downtown. There is only fair to adequate coffee on the peninsula that has to be teased out from between the ubiquitous Starbucks. (I am waiting for the onslaught of medical conditions suffered by people walking around stiff-armed with foofy coffee drinks gripped tight like a Lego hand. Maybe everyone is already inured, though, having to carry an umbrella all the time.)
Once you cross any of the bridges, going South, I can recommend the place on the corner of Spruce and 9th and Cafe Calabria on Commercial Drive. Probably any spot on Commercial Drive with a TV set and clusters of old Italian men watching football, or Formula-1 racing, is worth visiting but there's only so much espresso a person can drink in one afternoon so I can't say.
UPDATE:
Dude, you live a bilingual country. What part about café au lait and cafe latte being the same thing don't you understand?
There are no good baguettes. Anywhere. I'm pretty sure I've tried everything the city has to offer, now. That doesn't mean there aren't good breads but the baguette remains something of an enigma here. It does not occupy the same place of imagination for people perhaps because they also favour eating cheese on crackers. Which only adds to the mystery.
There are no good pastries, unless you like Pollack-esque chocolate swirls on your pain au chocolat and a quarter-inch of glazed sugar on everything else. Even the bakery at the Culinary Institute does it so it's best just to think of it the same way you do, say, "tofu fish".
By way of consolation, I have enjoyed some of the muffins but they are not common currency in Montréal so who I am to judge?
It is possible to get a reasonable range of good cheeses not already cut into wedges and suffocated in plastic. At one store.
Cheeses from Chapu are not allowed to be exported outside of Québec, by order of Health Canada; sort of like The Two Solitudes re-written as a memo by a mid-level bureaucrat in the chemistry department.
Organic bananas are so cheap here that you have to believe the prices in the rest of the country are a scam.
No one seems to sell green beans loose, which is just weird.
Gyoza.
Korean food. Lunch at a little Korean restaurant, near Christie Pits, is one of the only good memories I have of the year I lived in Toronto. I don't know if this is the Korean neighbourhood, per se, but there sure are a lot of restaurants and grocery stores nearby. Once I've gotten a little more settled I am going to learn some recipes.
Vera's burgers, baby. Vera's burgers.
The icing was this afternoon when the guy behind the grill looked at my soggy Habs shirt and said :
I clearly need to be eating more fish.