So Whole Foods — or Whole Paychecks, as it’s not fondly called in Vancouver — has always been too expensive. I know that, going in, I’m paying for the ambiance, the noticeably higher quality and the service, right? A pet peeve of mine is that I’m a willing conspirator in this Whole Foods conspiracy, so I expect the high-end service I’m willfully subsidizing. But in some places in Canada, service ain’t what she is in the U.S., mostly because many stores are unionized so the employees can never be fired. They can be as rude, as unhelpful, as incompetent as they possibly want, and it doesn’t matter. They’re there for life. Or death. Where they join the Dante’s Inferno ring set aside for postal workers. I blame the rotten service on 1) the tender age of their workers and 2) their incurious minds. Whole Foods Vancouver doesn’t have the wide array of fish and seafood that one usually sees in their U.S. cousins, because, I expect, the Vancouver branch is a bit more strict about over-fishing. At least that’s what I’m giving them credit for. It could be a lazy buyer didn’t get to his distributor early enough (gotta get my Tim Horton’s first!) and the restaurants beat him/her to best of the catch. Variety of fish in the Vancouver area is quite wide, so I got cranky just by the Vancouver Whole Food’s paltry (but beautifully presented and iced) selection of halibut, salmon (naturally) and sablefish (black cod) with shrimp, mussels and scallops pulling up behind as Team Shellfish. I was shopping for cioppino, a wonderful Italian soup meal usually brimming with a variety of fish and shellfish. The two types of mussels on display — Honey Mussels and Salt Spring Mussels — looked pristine and delicious. But I’d never had a honey mussel, so I asked the “fish-spert” what the difference was. She stared at me perplexed — apparently, no customer has ever asked her such a question before — and replied “the honey mussels are sweeter”. Really, I asked, had she tried them. Uh, well, not exactly, well, uh, no. No? So based on the mussels ‘sweet’ name, i.e., honey, her informed opinion was they were “sweeter”. Now, I completely understand if somebody has an aversion to mussels or clams or oysters or other gooey mucas-y globs, but he/she shouldn’t be working in Seafood. Put ‘em in, I don’t know, natural hair shampoos, but get ‘em out of fish. In the U.S. Whole Foods — and trust me, I ain’t their champion (I was told by their wine buyer that it’s a great company to work for because the customer pays employee benefits by the mark-up) — persons working in their particular department are experts in what they’re mongering, so the fish monger knows exactly what a Honey Mussel tastes like and why it’s better — or not — than a Salt Spring Mussel. But my Vancouver gal didn’t know and apparently didn’t care to know nor did management care that she didn’t care, and that makes me crabby.
Guest blogging on Kat Trip Blog
http://kattrip.wordpress.com/2010/08/05/bella-gelateria-a-must-for-visitors-to-the-city/
Since tasting my first gelato in Roma, I’ve never really been able to pass American-made gelato between my lips. The real thing — at Giolitti in Roma — is light airy creamy intensely flavored, while what is sold as gelato anywhere else is an emulsified, pale-tasting and watered-down. Today I discovered Bella Gelateria in Vancouver next door to the Pacific Rim Hotel and was introduced to the proprietor/genius “Gelato James”, a gregarious Tim Gunn-esque creator of the daily 24 flavors served in his shop. James is actually the only gelato chef in North America certified by the gelato culinary institute in Italy, and he uses all of the time-tested and authentic recipes and methods for creating his gorgeous concoctions. Being a first-timer to Bella, James graciously guided me on a tour of his current 24 flavors — he changes them daily depending on the fruits/nuts he can get in season. So like any chef, he began with the sorbetti (kiwi is particularly outstanding) then moving to milder flavors (latte, thai coconut milk, vanilla), then the nut flavors — pistachio, hazelnut — and culminating in the chocolates with the silky 85% chocolate sorbet as the climax. Then came the time to actually choose which flavors for my “two-flavor” cup. Pistachio and the divino lavender. But the adventure didn’t end there, because James wanted me to enjoy each of those robust flavors individually without them melding together. James started with a dab of the Tahitian vanilla, then a dollop of the lavender, then a dab of the espresso, then a dollop of pistachio, topped with his gorgeous BC cherry. He had created a sundae palette, which allowed my palate to experience each flavor individually and as a whole. The man is genius, and if you get to Vancouver, check out Bella Gelateria, tell James I sent you, and he’ll guide you on your own personal gelato tour.
Now visiting Vancouver — Emerald City of the Northwest. I never tire of crossing the beautiful Lion’s Gate Bridge, especially at night, when the ugly condos built in the 70′s are obscured by twinkling lights. I was invited to dinner at a well-known and respected orthopedist and his laff-riot wife, who has a Barbara Steisand-ish aura, circa What’s Up Doc? One of their hobbies is making wine from grapes that they purchase from Washington State. They both love showing off their creations, and I have sampled many a bottle of their home-made syrahs, etc., and this stuff could be bottled and sold easily for $20. The couple loves to pair wines — they belong to an elite wine club — with good food, and although “Barbra” isn’t a gourmet chef, she certainly knows how to prepare high-end product with simple seasonings. First course was an array of middle Eastern snacks, followed by a grilled salmon and lettuce-pear-walnut-feta salad. Entree was a chicken breast with a marvelous concoction atop that I had to ask the recipe for. Whole cranberry sauce, Thousand Island dressing and her own seasoning mix, which has so many components it would be impossible without a guidebook to recreate. Lovely fresh vegetables and a rice pilaf were on the side. But an amazing secret was her use of Hawaiian pink sea salt, which added a lovely finish and slight, perfectly balanced saltiness. Another guest brought along numerous samples of chocolate from her shop on Burrard and 8th, called Xoxolad (more on that later), which we consumed with a beautiful port and Cuban rum (does the epicurean gorging ever end?). Topping off the meal, however, was the appearance of an enormous hookah with which we all puffed apple tobacco. No Alice caterpillar high, unfortunately, just a soft smooth finish to a delightful, freshly and simply prepared meal.
There are times when all the pain-staking organization pay off. A regular client in Orange County hired me to help them celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. This client and his wife are fun-n-food-loving people and really wanted to throw a party that all of their friends and family would remember. They have a beautiful home, but 200 people was going to be a tight fit. I brought in event-planner-to-the-stars, the tall and leggy and very blonde Charley Isabella King of Bluebelle Events, and thus the organizing began full steam, which included building a platform over the swimming pool to serve as a dance floor. Charley took care of all the design details, while I shouldered the food and staff planning. I brought in an assistant chef — Jon Higgins — and we prepped for two days, churning out 40 pounds of lobster macaroni and cheese and 84 pounds of baby back ribs. Jon recently graduated from Le Cordon Bleu, and his skills and palate are extraordinary. It was a ton of work, but it was inspiring to riff off each other, testing sauces, checking seasoning, problem-solving how to keep all the food hot and tasty for so many party-goers. I scheduled and planned — maybe micro-managed? — every detail of the prep and party, crossing fingers that nothing unexpected would happen. As we ticked off our work checklist, it all came together like a gargantuan puzzle. So there I was in the middle of cooking the mac n cheese, and I had a Zen-ish moment of complete calm and peace, as the party transformed into a nearly living breathing organism birthed specifically for this special event. Everything had fallen into place. The house and food were gorgeous, and most of the party guests less obnoxious that the usual H’wood to-do. I realized in that moment that despite all the work, it was even possible for me to have a blast.
Well, that’s what this client says about me!
Thanks, Dave!
Today, I’ll start linking the video testimonies of some very satisfied customers.
Pamela_Testimonial-iPhone-Desktop
Pamela tells of Chef Gene’s serenity in the kitchen.
Fantastic advice from the Huffington Post:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/joshua-stokes/cooking-tips-for-beginnin_b_626855.html
Like most reportage these days, the news yesterday that the South is 30% obese was, well, grossly exaggerated. Yes, it’s true that most Southern states are in the 30-100% overweight category, apparently, so is most of the U.S., including New York. Thus I withdraw by prior criticism of Southerners’ eating habits. The truth is, simply, we’ve all got eating issues. Here’s the link with the map:
http://www.good.is/post/this-is-where-you-re-fat/
As reported in the press today. And not just fat but OBESE! But is it really ONLY 30%? What is it with Southerners and food abuse? Too much anger, not enough love? I understand that in tough times families have to make due with what they can get, but the problem seems to be stubbornness not ignorance, especially with all of the TV programs trying to get the fatties to trim down by eating less Cheez Whiz and more fruits and veggies. Yes, prices have gone up considerably everywhere in the US, but almost every grocery store has got a marked down section, where you can buy 2 or 3 day old fruit and veg — it may not be purty, but it’s still edible. I always check out the marked down shelves myself, especially for something that’s slow cooked and/or cooked down. Maybe what’s needed is not telling people they’ve gotta slim down, but educating them more on how to stretch out meals rather than their waistbands. Because obesity can’t all be genetic or blamed on “big bones”. It’s passed down culturally. It’s all they know…maybe. Sure, some of those 300 pounders are unhappy housewives and mothers, but I can’t believe that they hate their children (husbands, could be) enough to kill them with fatness. Cooks like Paula Deen to go far far away, because despite her sugar coating, the food she cooks (have you seen the burger between two glazed doughnuts) is criminal, and she should be booked for Murder One.
