The Alibi Room

Vancouver's Gastown District is charming with an old-town feel emanating from the brick sidewalks and boutique stores lining the quaint streets.

Tucked into a neighborhood just a little off the main drag is a hip little place called The Alibi Room.

In our quest for all things gastronomic, we came across this highly recommended restaurant known for an extensive beer list as well as for pretty good food.  Of all the great meals that we had during our week in Vancouver, this was toward the top of our list.  Extra points for their sustainable philosophy.  Of course, the top of the list is like the results of a 50m swim meet in which the difference between first and eighth place is still less than one second.

Items of note: Everything, including the stellar burger Eric ordered and that I failed to photo because I thought, it's just a burger.  But it's the Captain America (er, in Canada) of burgers.  Perhaps that smoky onion mayo?  Who knows...

The Wild Salmon dish was rich in mouthfeel and in Omega 3s, I'm sure.  The roasted vegetables were notable, but not as much as the black rice.  Black rice has been creating quite the buzz recently.  It's also known as "Forbidden Rice" because back in China's heyday, black rice was set aside for the Emperor, forbidden to anyone else.  High in nutrition, nutty in flavor, but still kinda expensive, I love the texture and the fact that my first actual eating experience was in this down-to-earth, progressive hangout for the hip and young in a developing area of Vancouver.  This town rocks!!

But the surprise and delight for me that evening was the Free-range Chicken WINGS.  That's right.  Admittedly, I expected some Buffalo Hot Wings, being that I'm so American and naturally ethnocentric.  These were crispy on the outside, piping hot, moist, and tender on the inside, and tossed in a honey, garlic, chili, and herb concoction that blew my mind in its utter simplicity.  I almost drank the sauciness at the bottom of the bowl, it was so good.

Finally, the molten chocolate cake was truly molten, which is surprisingly messed up 50% of the time, but it was also more voluptuous than others, and Eric threatened to lick the ramekin regardless of the fact that we were in public.  It was served with their homemade cashew brittle that was amazingly light and airy, yet solid and crunchy.

The Alibi Room - it's so good, it's criminal.

Guu-dness Gracious!

When visiting Vancouver, one must bike along the Seawall.  A dedicated bike trail meanders around the perimeter of Stanley Park and Vancouver's downtown.  It's flat, and therefore perfect for any fitness level.  But regardless of whether it's your first time on a bicycle in several decades or you're training for the Tour de France, the views are spectacular and the fresh cool air breathtaking.

Afterwards, there is no shortage of great eats.  As we leisurely worked our way back to our hotel diving in and out of the number of boutique stores that decorate Robson Street, we found ourselves perfectly timed to begin waiting outside the doors of Guu, a Japanese Izakaya known as much for its Japanese tapas as for its wait to get in.

The moment the minute hand struck 5:30PM, the door opened, and the growing line of patrons were shuttled in and efficiently placed along the bar if you were a small party, and at a table for a larger group.      All the while, the servers and chefs behind the bar are screaming "Irashaimase" or Welcome! to everyone who walks in.  The reviews on FourSquare comment exhaustively on the yelling and noise, mostly negatively, but I rather liked that all the orders were loudly reviewed with the chefs.  The hustle and bustle give the intimate joint a lot of energy, so what's with the desire to oppress it?  Besides, the food is so good, who cares, anyway?

The beauty of a small plates restaurant is the ability to try out a number of different dishes.  If I had my way, I would want all the restaurants to offer some kind of customizable sampler plate.  

This is the Kabocha Korroke - Pumpkin Croquette.  Kabocha is my favorite pumpkin because its flesh is so sweet and tasty that often times, people think I've added sugar.  It's not a very attractive pumpkin, what with its warts and oft times misshapenness, but the flavor is unparalleled.  The core is a hard boiled egg, and it's all deep fried to create a crispy shell.  Sweet and savory, with a smooth texture offset by the egg and crispy shell.  Lovely.

This is the Pork Cheek.  Some might describe it as "tough," but that would misrepresent what I would rather call the toothsome texture that lends an interesting chewiness that I quite enjoyed.  The flavor was outstanding and it was our server's favorite dish on the menu.  

Speaking of chewiness, I also ordered a dish of Pork Intestines.  Eric will eat anything once, and I appreciate that.  So I can't complain when he doesn't want to take another bite.  I did contest that the dish was quite exceptional versus other intestinal dishes I'd had in my life, of which had been many.  He claimed that it tasted too... "natural."  Interesting.  Interesting that he can eat a plateful of Scrapple's "natural" flavor.  I mean, if you think about what's in Scrapple, this is a pretty close cousin...

But the star of the evening was unanimous - the Miso-Glazed Black Cod.  Oh, Black Cod.  What would I do without you?  It began as a second-class citizen in my life, a begrudging replacement to my beloved Chilean Sea Bass.  But now, it's become quite a coveted menu item.  And this did not disappoint.  I'm sure I had much more than my half of it.  A big part of what makes our marriage work is that Eric is remarkably kind about letting me eat more than my fair share of things in which I find particular enjoyment.  What a guy!

Next time I go, I'm going to try one of their fried rice dishes, among other things.  They accidentally placed an order of Kimchi Fried Rice in front of us, and I deviously wanted to feign confusion as to what we ordered so I could dig in.  It's just looked so guud.

Battle of the Food Trucks!!

It's Japadog vs. Mariscos 4 Vientos, folks!

 

Japadog is Vancouver's answer to merging the Japanese culture that is so prominent in the city to a good ol' American Favorite - the Hot Dog!

Mariscos 4 Vientos is in the heart of LA and has their own unique Mexican offerings.  Which will win?  

We had a sampling of items at each truck, but I will highlight the best items and pit them against one another.  

So we start with the Yakisoba Japadog.  All of the Japadogs start with the base of a plump and juicy hot dog nestled in a soft white flour bun.  It's how they finish it off that adds the Japanese flair.  In this case, Yakisoba is layered on top, much like one would with sauerkraut, perhaps.  Yakisoba is Japan's fried buckwheat noodle dish.  It's a classic, and I spent just slightly less time in the Yakisoba shops as a student in Japan than I did in the Ramen houses I called my second home.

Here, the hot dog rivals those of New York, dare I say, even more satisfying because of its sheer size and flavorful drippings that shoot out the moment the taut skin is broken by a diner's incisor slicing through it.  And then it gets thrown down by the Asian intruder that seems to mollify the invasion and they both finally meld together into something uniquely, head-tiltingly, strangely as if they belonged together all along.  A happy fusion.

Ah, but then there is this shrimp taco dream.  I was hanging out in LA with my cousin Jake and his fam when he said, "We gotta go get this shrimp taco."  My cousin is a sales guy in LA and he does a lot of driving around, and the dude likes to eat.  I know, it runs in the family.  So without a second's hesitation, we were off, picking our way through the LA traffic for a $1.75 Shrimp Taco that he insisted all along the way was unlike any other shrimp taco I had ever had.  And indeed, he was correct.

Upon laying eyes on this smothered wonderment, I immediately thought, oh great, the whole taco is soaked in salsa.  I can't STAND soggy edibles that should be crunchy.  I was already slightly disappointed.  Underneath the salsa was a layer of sliced avocado shingled atop the taco.  And then there was this blackness on the inside.  Boy, they sure did fry the hell out of this whole thing!  And THEN I thought - how is someone supposed to eat this saturated mess?

I gingerly pinched the shell on one side and lifted, hopeful.  Amazingly, the whole thing rose.  The shell was structurally intact which promised a crispiness that I had written off.  I took a bite and it was absolutely, sublimely crunchy, while the tender minced shrimp concoction delightfully seasoned the tastebuds with its fullness.  Oh DANG this thing was good!  The disappointment I initially felt was buoyed into sheer happiness and gastronomic satisfaction.

So which one is better?  Eric would say he would rather go back to Japadog simply because it's so rare.  But in reminding him that it's not about availability, but taste, he would still go with Japadog.  I, on the other hand, was a hung jury as I thought about documenting this battle in my blog.  However, as I write this post, I have an intense craving for Mariscos' Shrimp Taco experience.  And so I must give it the edge for continuing to make such an impression.  

A Tale of Two Meals

It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.  When it comes to meals, that is.

Our first night in Vancouver, British Columbia welcomed us to an impeccable meal that was fit for royalty.  The space was Middle-Eastern gorgeous, and upstairs, you could even sit Moroccan-style on beds and lounge as you feast on the many delectable small dishes fanned out in front of you.  Then again, I've always had a hard time eating a meal in bed, so we opted for a nice table that formed the divide in their expansive open window.

We began with cocktails, mine the Khira - Sapphire gin with muddled cucumbers and cardamom-infused syrup and fresh lime.  A refreshing drink that disguised the sensuality of the cardamom.

Standouts were the Ahi Tuna over roasted brussel sprouts, cauliflower, bacon tossed in a mustard vinaigrette.  That vegetable (and bacon) medley was so sickeningly delicious, screw the perfectly seared tuna, I say!  The Grilled Octopus is also a scene stealer.  Those of you who have ever said to me, "Oh, I don't like Octopus.  It's rubbery," have never had the tender morsels of that sea creature done right, and boy do they do it right here.

The very next night, we thought, hey, let's kick back a little.  Where to go, where to go?  Yelp called out an Irish pub with stellar reviews and we went all in.  Honestly, I barely even want to talk about it, because days later, I'm still feeling a wave of regret.  It was so bad, in fact, that for the first time ever, I logged in a review on Yelp.  It said,

"I don't understand the draw. Between the awful Guinness Stew, average beer selection, and ditzy waitress, I'm beating myself up for wasting a meal in my limited time in Vancouver.  Okay, the hearty soda bread and decent Shepherd's pie make this meal slightly better than tragic."

In the 1973 short story The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas, the utopia found in that town is possible only because pure evil is concentrated wholly onto one pitiful citizen.  Opposites must exist.  And it does, indeed, in Vancouver.