Author - Grant
Based In - Vancouver, British Colombia, Canada
Photos - http://www.flickr.com/photos/32017704@N03/sets/72157619036884457/
You’re getting a two stage report on Vancouver as I’ll cover the first four days that we spent there and Kate will cover the next three days when I abandoned her in favour of a football match taking place four thousand miles to the east. In my defense, I did leave her in the very capable hands of two of our friends who have emigrated to Canada...but the reality is that I would have happily left her in Baghdad as the order of importance goes Football, Beer, Pies then the wife. She knew the rules when we got married...
Still, we had four days with which to explore Vancouver and I think we used them very wisely by managing to combine culture, exercise and curry in equal measures. Exercise is something that particularly hard to avoid in this hyper-active city thanks to the Seawall Path which almost completely circles central Vancouver which just begs to be biked, jogged and walked. Even a fatty like me managed to complete the trio during my short stay but the bike ride was definitely the highlight as it encompassed the idyllic Stanley Park. As has been widely commented on in prior blog entries, Kate’s fitness is diminishing as her preggo waist expands so whilst the bike ride was picturesque, it wasn’t much of a work-out thanks to an average speed which saw us being overtaken by rollerbladers and even a skate boarder at one point. We’re just lucky that much of the path wasn’t wheelchair friendly...
It’s always a massive bonus to visit cities where we know people - not only because they can give us the inside scoop on the best places to visit but, because they physically live here, they have a kitchen that I can take over. And that’s how I ended up cooking dinner for nine people in Charlie and Sarah’s 26th floor apartment last Wednesday evening. As Sarah had been give an Indian cuisine cook book for her birthday, she was keen to test drive a few of the recipes (by which I mean she wanted me to cook them and I was more than happy to oblige). It wasn’t completely a solo effort through as I had various sous chefs throughout the evening who helped in less orthodox ways than you might expect such as doing a magnificent ‘midget on a ladder’ routine and another one who managed a full 6 hour rendition of a mentally unstable hypochondriac (probably because she was a mentally unstable hypochondriac). Still, they didn’t impede the end result too much as we sat down for a pretty passable meal involving...
- Popadoms, Cucumber Raita and Mango Chutney
- Pan Fried Paneer, Chili & Cous Cous Cakes on a Fragrant Roasted Eggplant & Tomato Salad
- Beef Curry (unanimously agreed to be about Madras heat and confirmed the following morning on it’s way back out)
- Grainy Mustard Marinaded Lamb Lollipops with Creamy Curry Sauce
- Fenugreek Infused Roasted Asparagus (probably the nicest individual dish and the simplest)
- Coconut Basmati Rice (a bit stodgy but I was quite mullered by the time this had to be cooked)
The only things better than the grub were the company and the copious flowing wine. The worst thing about the evening (for the permanent residents of this apartment) is that it’s five days after the event and apparently the wallpaper still tastes of lamb bhuna. Glad I don’t have to live there...
The final noteworthy offering has to be the Granville Island Public Market which we managed to visit twice - once to collect the produce for the Indian feast and once in full tourist mode to sample the various food stuffs on offer, lounge in the sun and pretend not to be transfixed by one of the disproportionately huge number of street performers that call Vancouver their home. The first trip was a fairly rushed affair but the choice and quality of fresh produce on offer was clearly apparent and go an awful long way to explain the success of the dishes it went on to produce...along with the fact that most people were four sheets to the wind by the time dinner was eventually served. The tourist trip happened the morning after the Indian feast and hence I arrived with the hunger, if not the body, of a Tour De France cyclist. As such, the first stop was always going to be the home made pie shop which I spied the previous day but was in too big a hurry to take advantage of. Pie is a teasing phrase here in North America as all too often it means a dessert (apple, cheery, pumpkin etc) but to me it means a flaky crust filled with something meaty and, ideally, surrounded in gravy. Luckily the particular stall I chose agreed with my definition and hence, just minutes after landing on Granville Island, I was taking the edge off my rampant hangover induced hunger with a peppercorn steak pie. Next onto the main event and whilst the girls came back from their hunt with healthy looking salads and vegetables in rice paper, I came back with an everything bagel smothered in butter and filled with a stack of warm, wafer thin smoked pork. It was pretty extraordinary and even the smokey butter dripping off my elbows eventually got consumed. Still room to squeeze down a home made date bar before finally declaring myself full and remembering that I was due on a flight in a few hours so, for the sake of my fellow passengers, it was time to leave this magical island and pack some pants and a toothbrush in preparation for my trip.
Kate will lead you through the following few days but I’ll bet you a whole shiny Canadian dollars that it involves ice cream...
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