The Red Wagon

Second visit to East Van's Red Wagon and no doubt about it, the food was great.  I was thoroughly satiated as the generous portion of butter from my Croque Madam seeped into my bloodstream. This may be pre-emptive, but I consider the Pulled Pork Sandwich the best in the city. It has a light, tangy sauce with a nice about of kick, and the bun is nice and soft for soaking up the sauce. The Reuben is bang on the money, and if I'm gonna pick favorites, it's better than the one at Acme Cafe.


I don't wanna tell you how to run your business, but...


The seating in this place is awkward, the fact that there are twice as many four-tops as needed and no two-tops causes unnecessarily long wait times. It is frustrating when you arrive at during non-peak hours, wait 20 minutes to be seated and can see that there are multiple tables that still need to be cleared, the five-top has two people seated, and the six four-top tables each have only two people seated. I like the style and the relaxed, family-friendly atmosphere, they just need to cut some of their tables in half and organize things a bit better at the front of house because I would definitely go back for the food.

Tavola + Nook = Ten Pounds of Pasta

Recently I was cutting weight for a fight and restricted from eating carbs for six weeks.  This was painful because I love complex carbs. I live for them, I dream about them, I plan my meals around them and one of the main reasons I work out so often is so I can consume them daily. Therefore the bread, burrata, pasta, potatoes, perogies, pastries, and pizza were all put on hold and my will power was put to the test. For six weeks I sweated my ass off for those ten pounds. The night before my fight I successfully weighed-in and BAM! I was like a fat kid in a candy store. Where did I go to carb-load and celebrate this grand occasion? Tavola. And the next night, Tavola. And two nights after that, Nook. Not even shitting you, it only took two days for my gluttonous ass to gain back the weight in pasta alone.
Previously I have raved about Nook and my infatuation with the Burrata. Coming from the same family and formerly Tapestree, Tavola has more seating, house-made pastas, sans pizza, and the kicker being - wait for it - a version of my beloved Burrata! Just around the corner from Nook, Tavola is a place you bring people you love, a place you meet with friends, share plates, and fight each other for the last heavenly mouthful. Just go, or I'll kick your ass.

The margarita pizza from Nook. Definitely making my top ten.

I'd Eat That.

Apparently Davie & Howe is getting a Philly Cheese Steak sandwich shop. Way to take over a crappy Mr. Sub location.

Meat & Bread Update.

The meatball sandwich! A little bit of spice, a little bit of parmesan, a little bit of sauce, a little bit of crumbled meatball action. Take it. Take it, and go.

Mexican Brunch at the Waldorf

I love Mexican food whole-heartedly. My addiction to La Taqueria, my annual Mexican!Burrito!Birthday!Bash!, and my zombie-apocalypse stockpile of refried beans are all evidence of this. Not surprisingly, I was excited to try the Mexican Brunch at the recently renovated Waldorf Hotel. Mexican brunch is a fantastic idea, it has such great potential, which is why I was so sad to see it executed poorly. Maybe things aren't running smoothly yet, or they were having an off day, or our server was missing her frontal lobe; whatever the reason, it just didn't quite come together. The Leeteg room is cool-ish, I guess. The 50's design feels cold and uninspiring. Especially compared to the ultra-rad Tiki Lounge downstairs, (where I can fully imagine having an exotic, albiet blurry, night of festivities).


As for the food I had the Molletes, an open-faced Portugese bun baked with black beans, bacon, and cheese, and topped with eggs. Other than the bacon being both over-baked and burnt, it was generally tasty.

This is the Mexican Hangover Cure, Chilaquiles: crispy corn quarters with cheese, black beans, green and red chile salsas, and chorizo. Even though I fully understand that in an authentic preparation the tortilla-esq chips become softened in the chile salsa; on the menu they are described as being "Crispy Corn Quarters!", and are nothing of the sort. Even if I take into consideration that the color comes from a combination of the red and green salsas, I can't get past the fact that it looks like vomit. The texture of the soaked tortillas was not the least bit appealing and it was an unnecessarily huge portion that inevitably got wasted.

I am acutely aware that I am a terrible blogger; absenteeism, inconsistancy, and digression being several of my major transgressions. Not that I'm saying I plan on being back on pace for a 50-point season, just that I feel like writing again. Here's the thing, I originally planned on eating at all the places on Davie and Denman, (genre by genre) but after 20+ sushi places I was bored. Instead; I preferred to try out new places recommended by friends, or be surprised and taken to a place that I would never have chosen on my own, or I would just go back again and again to the places that I love (ie La Brasserie, Nook, La Taqueria). I also have a tiny problem with self-control. As soon as my food arrives I just mow down, having absolutely no patience for lighting and photos, and thus ruining my attempts to blog about The Red Wagon, Tavola, Adesso, Cafeteria, L'Abbatoir, and so on.

Now that I only have 12 or so months left in the West End, my plan is to create a West End Top Ten. A list of my favorites before I move to Gastown and have a whole new hood to demolish.

Another failed photo op, mid-mouthful into my Reuben at The Red Wagon.

Why DHM Can Eat A Bag Of Dick.

I hate Donnelly Hospitality Management.

#1. They try to trick you into thinking that they are something special. Like a sports bar, or your local neighborhood watering hole, or the precurser pub to your night at the Roxy, or whatever. When in reality they are all the same boring barf, smothered with flatscreen tv's, and filled with bridge and tunnel douchery.

#2. They have numbers instead of nametags. Really? Is it so that you don't stalk the server? Because on first name alone I'm not sure if you'd recognize her by her slutty facebook profile pic.

#3. If Glowbal and Donnelly got married and made a baby it would be a rapist. A rapist baby with bottle service.

Burrata Update.

Because of wine and lighting, I've never been able to get a good photo of the Burrata from Nook. I finally do and my technological ineptitude prevents me from getting the fucker right-side-up. I gave up because this edible treasure is my favorite thing on the face of the earth, so tilt your head sideways and imagine how amazing your life will be once you've tried it.

This is the American vs. Italian variation. I think that I remember the American one being creamier.

Khunnai Chang Madame Elephant Thai Cuisine

My parents and friends were in town and were keen to try some authentic Thai grub, so my requirements were that it had to be in the neighborhood and it had to accomidate a party of 6. This knocked out Thai Basil, Thai Away Home, and Urban Thai Bistro, my preferred Thai go-to places, simply because of size and location. My friend and amazing hairstylist Justine reccomended Madame Elephant and it fit us perfectly.

Being on Denman near Robson it was within walking distance, it was cozy, the service was adorable, and best of all it surpassed all my expectations in the taste department.

Yellow Curry with Chicken in Coconut Milk.

The Pad Thai.

Stir Fried Crispy Pork with Broccoli.

Stir Fried Prawns with Onion, Chili and Green Pepper.

It looks Authentic right?

Ps. Classic terrible deco made it all the more amazing.

Meat & Bread: A Man-Made Sandwich Shop.

Pointing out that I am blatantly bias, enjoy my skewed opinion!
Jumping right into all the things I hate about this place:

I hate that the space is designed way cooler than my appartment. Kudos to Craig Stanghetta and the team for pulling off a man-cave feel without it being harsh and bat-cave like. There are so many great details but my favorites include the punching bag (for obvious reasons), the terrible taxidermy, and the herringbone walnut bartop.

I hate that it's so conveniently located across the street from my gym at Cambie and Hastings, kiddy-corner to Victory Square Park.  The level of sexy Man-Meat in Gastown just skyrocketed with the arrival of Mr. Jarvie and Mr. Harrington.

I hate that this isn't a sandwich you can find anywhere else. Fuck cold cuts. Fuck deli meats. Fuck re-heated bacon. Fuck toasted subs. And Fuck You subway secret sauce. The talents of Chef Joe Sartor are evident as the insightful and full flavors follow-through with the the man-made theme. Those hands know how handle a big-ol' hunk'a meat in it's journey from freshly butchered-to the carving station-to a mouth near you.

I hate to admit that porchetta beats bacon. One can argue that bacon beats all, but porchetta is pork belly wrapped around loin with herbs, slow-cooked to deliciousness. Crackling is the new crack-cocaine.

I hate that even vegetarians can enjoy the Meat & Bread experience. With the grilled cheese sammich and daily soup and solid salad options (heck yes chickpea + onion + ovenroasted tomato) herbivors don't have to feel like the social outcasts they are. Vegans; you're fucked.
I hate the entire hearty experience, everything from the design to the details to the delivery.  I predict that boys are gonna flock for their fill of Man-Meat and girls are gonna clammor for their view of Man-Candy.



Ps. The good-quality photos I have pilfered from pkmedia.ca

Pho Central

Pho Central easily makes my top-ten list of locations frequented in my neighbourhood, and even though the banh mi was an epic fail, it hasn't deterred my loyalty. Especially since the rainy season is imminent, I predict many upcoming steamy noodle-slurping moments.

Everything that I know about Pho I have learned from my friends:

Trevy taught me about asking for the meat on the side, especially if you like it on the rare side, that way you get to put it in at your own pace (careful you don't wait too long and the boiling broth turns to luke-warm piss water that won't cook the meat at all).

Jordan showed me the hoisin sauce on your spoon trick, that way your broth doesn't get all hoisin-y.

 Mattchew introduced me to the house-made chili oil (prior to this I was all about the cock sauce in my attempts to increase my spice tolerance).

This little place on Davie between Thurlow and Bute is small, drafty, and generally dingy, but the service is lovely and I always leave feeling warmed to soul. Pho Central perfectly slides into the "dives" category.

Streetmeat: Cartel Tacos!

I am beyond stoked to finally be able to partake in some quality streetmeat from the mobile food vendor program. Located on the corner of Georgia and Burrard, the Korean tacos from Cartel are everything I could have hoped for. The two options, beef and pork (I had one of each), are marinated in whatever combination of  spices and sauces that is delicious. If you don't already know about it, the smell of the sizzling meat will draw you close. The soft 2-ply corn tacos are topped with either the beef or pork, then the onions and kimchi, for a combination of tastes that is close-your-eyes awesome. My only complaint is that there isn't anywhere to sit and enjoy your fare, unlike a hot-dog, a taco is a little harder to shove down your gullet while walking down the street.

Being a frequenter of La Taqueria 3+ times a week, Cartel is a worthy contender for Top Taco. 

Blah Blah More Brasserie

You know, just in case you've missed my blathering obsession with La Brasserie.

The Suckling Pig.

The Friday Boulliabase.

 

 Jody's heavenly Mushroom Ragout over Spaetzle

Screamers!

Slurpee + Soft-Serve Icecream = Screamer.

My newest favorite thing on Davie.

You can get them from Baguette Time (between Bute and Jervis), just don't get their baguettes. Gourmet Sandwhiches MY ASS.

La Bretagne Creperie

What makes a place special? Amazing food? A great first impression? A collection of nostalgic memories of hung-over mornings?

There's this unpretentious little crepe place at Robson and Jervis (don't confuse this with the horrendous Cafe Crepe franchise), that for whatever reason or combination of the right moments, is a place that I have come to love. It's called La Bretagne Creperie and it serves both sweet and savory crepes which range from $6-11. With a cup of tea on the patio, the sun shining, and adorable french accents within earshot, it's a great place to enjoy the last days of summer. This Creperie may not be perfect but I will forgive them for almost anything, including forgettful service. You can't really blame them, it's not their fault they're French.

Jody's Ham and Swiss Cheese. We were both dissipointed with the lunch meat ham, but the crepes are this lovely paper thin texture.

Being a creature of habit, my usual is the #3 Breakfast Special: Scrambled Eggs, Ratatouille, and Swiss Cheese; for a whopping $8.50 it also comes with tea or coffee.

Nook Update

Pre-Birthday dinner at Nook with my favorite Wrangers introduced me to something that changed my life. The Burrata. Apparently it's provolone injected with cream, on top of prosciutto, on top of a soft toasted piece of bread. Basically it's insanely delicious and literally after the three of us polished off one we didn't hesitate to order a second.

I know it's a shitty photo, but as if I'm gonna pull out a flash. Anyways you'll just have to imagine how pretty this melt-in-your-mouth this orgasmic experience was.

The Prosciutto and Buffallo Mozarella.

Apparently I have an affinity towards cured meats and cheeses.

Nook has become my favorite go-to place as of late, it just has this romantic and charming atmosphere that slowly seduces you, bite by bite.

Kintaro Ramen

This is where I explain how much of a retard I am. 

I had several people rave to me about the Kintaro Ramen Noodle Shop, and being a noodle lover I was stoked on trying it out. I even made several failed attempts before successfully hitting it up for lunch recently. 

 

This was  the spicy ginger special. I didn't try it, but the massive dollop of garlic on top was legit.

This is the "Kintaro's Best!!" Miso Ramen with the lean pork and medium broth. I was like, "Are you sure this is what Ramen tastes like??" As it rattled my preconceived notions of Mr. Noodle that my mother used to buy by the case (mushroom flavor was my personal after-school favorite). I'm not sure I was ready for the rich, authentic taste of the porkbone soup and probably could have gone with the light broth. In any case, the handmade noodles were de-licious.