Jean and I can crank out one adventure after another and usually end up with the most bizarre stories about people or things we encounter. Although we have traveled the world together, these days we are down to around one day-long adventure per month. Never satisfied with mundane activities such as a shopping trip, we hit up the highlights of Vancouver like good ol’ regular touristas.
Our February adventure started off harmlessly enough downtown in Vancouver on a sunny Sunday morning. After encountering fur protestors yelling into the windows of the restaurant we wanted to eat at, we decided on a more affordable, less controversial restaurant and opted for the tried-and-true Kalypso Ouzeria on Robson Street. It was only three years ago when I filmed Jean chewing her food here. *Single tear*
What a delicious mess.
Jean had done some baking the day before and so dessert was homemade cupcakes…that got a little smooshed in the container. But still yummy.
Our journey was up to the peak of Vancouver, Grouse Mountain. The only downside was, it being February and all, that we were competing with skiers and tourists for parking and tram space. Jostled together, up and away we go! Yippee!
When we got to the top, it was snowy, a bit chilly, and full of snow people.
We went to the theatre in the sky and watched a scenic film about BC and a wooden eagle head mask. It was kind of boring but then we went to the gift shop and I met a new friend.
Turns out he knew Sis’s friend from this post and, as you can see, we became fast friends.
Within 45 minutes of arriving, we were done. Since we weren’t there to ski or eat at the excessively expensive restaurant, we had seen it all. We queued in the now-quite-long line to board the tram to head down.
After about a 20 minute wait, we finally arrived near the tram building. A man with a party of five starting walking through the crush of people and then stopped immediately in front of us to wait for the tram. Jean politely told him that the end of the line was back there to which he immediately starting yelling that they weren’t going back there to wait as he had is 85 year old mother along and over his dead body were they going to wait in the snow. Then he retorted, “You must be Canadian!” What does that mean?! Jean thinks he said, “You must not be Canadian!” but I don’t know if that makes much sense either since he was, from our estimation, South Africa. They continued to be obnoxious and wait in front of us like nothing happened for the next 15 minutes. Jean and I were stunned into silence and that was that. Before we knew it, we were standing on the tram in horrified silence heading back down the mountain.
The walk back to the car was filled with words and thoughts that shall not be repeated here but let me say – they weren’t very kind.
We headed back into downtown via the Lion’s Gate bridge where I always enjoy an extremely scenic and calming view.
Fast forward to exactly one month from that day, March 15. Jean and my next adventure involves what was supposed to be a celebration as I’ve finished writing an extremely difficult exam and that is cause to spend the cash. Unfortunately, I did not bring my camera…but Jean did.
Our first stop was the re-opening celebrations of the Museum of Anthropology at UBC. We watched some shows of First Nations dancers and storytellers which was quite interesting. We also viewed the gallery on traditional tattoos. Seriously painful-looking. They would tattoo all into the butt cheeks and everything. All I can say is “eep”.
After picking up some cookies at Capers, our next stop was to be our dinner celebration at Yoshi’s on Denman. Unfortunately, the restaurant didn’t open for another hour so we moseyed on by Stanley Park and sat in the car chatting and people-watching. Suddenly, a big black Escalade pulls in behind us and honks with the driver making all kinds of strange motions to say “get out of my way”. We were quite confused but thought maybe it was a parking cop guy since the spot we were in wasn’t really a spot…so I slowly started my engine and pulled away. Turns out the guy was just a douche bag who parked, unloaded his groceries and walked into a nearby apartment building. It was a small thing, but I’m still irritated and infuriated by it. I’m working on letting it go.
Yoshi’s was…well, we were supposed to have shabushabu but the waitress told us it needed to be ordered the day before (though the website menu did not say that). We debated just ordering menu items but were intrigued by the kaiseki menu. Kaiseki is a set menu of courses wherein you eat an appetizer, a grilled item, a fried item, a stewed item, etc and it is all chef’s selection. We decided to take a chance and ordered the mini-kaiseki which, at $53, had eight courses. Let’s view and eat them together and you can guess my reaction to this experience.
It started off with the three mini-appetizers.
So, here we have some daikon radish with tofu, cucumber and seaweed salad, and a slug on top of a bed of spinach and mushroom. Yes, a slug. Sick.
Seriously gross…is this because of my history of not eating slugs? Well, I was feeling particularly adventurous (and kind of like I’d not be getting my money’s worth if I didn’t try it) so I took a nibble.
It wasn’t good. It had the consistency of octopus and chicken skin rolled into one. Before I chuck, let’s move along.
This was a soup that kind of tasted like ocean water. I can’t eat shellfish, so I swallowed what I could of the “broth”.
Here is our sashimi dish. How do my teeth look? If they look kind of rotten, then I may be suffering from the horrendous disease of “sashimi teeth”. This was the first time I ate sashimi that I actually finished. As far as sashimi goes, I’m sure it was very good – soft and melty-in-your-mouth. However, it was a bit too cold.
Next was a completely normal dish of grilled salmon that followed with a dish of battered and fried prawns. They looked like candy!
Again, I can’t eat shellfish so I limited myself to one small creature. Next was the Japanese stew, oden.
Looks harmless enough – I thought I was getting a big chicken McNugget in a bowl of soup…I was so wrong. It was a gelatinous fish cake. When I was in Japan, all convenience stores served up a big batch of oden on a giant open table and the place usually smelled of the broth and fish. Truthfully, it kind of made me nauseous.
Next course was the main item, zaru soba, which is cold soba noodles dipped in cold broth. Since I love it and make it at home, there was no complaints from me! When it arrived, we knew the weirdest parts were over. What relief. Dessert was a traditional bit of black or red beans with ice cream and a bit of fruit.
Jean said the fruit tasted of ocean creatures and I guess it kind of did. Time for the restaurant to obtain two fridge units.
I didn’t know what to expect going into the meal, but I know now that I will never, ever, order kaiseki again. I’m happy though that I did try it and got to experience everything that came along with it. Thanks to the pictures (courtesy of Jean) I can relive kaiseki again vicariously – and I think that will be enough.
Read more...
