Where in the world am I? (hint: it’s not Vancouver)
I’ve had a roller coaster of a ride today meeting lots of new people and walking all around this big city. It’s such a huge place that I doubt it’s possible to see everything! According to the locals, it’s a pointless to try because the entire city is constantly changing. And for the record, all of the people I’ve met today have broken the stereotypes of this popular destination by being really friendly and helpful. Guess where I am?
When kids play restaurant they think that by using pretty plates and tablecloths, describing their dishes in fancy ways, and charging higher than average prices, their establishment is automatically chic, upscale and worth every penny. They don’t usually think about what the plastic food tastes like because in pretend land, food is as good as the imagination. Sadly, reality isn’t quite the same.
Mystery seasonal soup; We don’t remember what was in it.
Phil selected Refuel Restaurant for this month’s Dinner Club outing. Its website motto is “honest food relaxed atmosphere” and I don’t agree with either of those statements. The restaurant seemed to be suffering from an identity crisis; flipping between glorified dishes that all “taste beautiful” according to our server who was sporting a low-cut shirt displaying her breast tattoo, and over-priced bottled sodas paired with miniature dishes that were either over-salted, over-cooked, or tasted like broccoli (even though there was none in it). Based on taste alone, the dishes should’ve been served in take-out containers and with double the amount for half the price.
We started with seasonal vegetable soups, wild arugula salad, and warm spinach and mushroom salad. The salads didn’t taste beautiful or ugly, but they also didn’t garner much feedback either. They were ordinary salads on pretty white plates. Nobody remembers what was supposed to be in the soup, but nobody could tell either. Phil’s initial reaction was “tastes like broccoli” but we were certain the server did not mention any broccoli. Morten and I thought the soup was too watery and while Ang liked the croutons that garnished the plate, I thought they could’ve been crunchier.
Confit duck leg
For mains we ordered dry aged beef burgers, mushroom and crème fraiche ravioli, a foie gras croquette, and confit duck legs. Phil ordered the fois gras croquette on top of his burger and was very happy with it. Morten didn’t have a fois gras croquette but burned his tongue on the first bite of his burger when the oil from it squirted out. Ang, Kenny and I all thought the confit duck legs were overly salty and too skinny. It was as if they cooked duck legs in a pan and added salt thinking it would be the same as curing the duck, washing off the spices and then cooking the duck in its own fat (a proper duck confit). These ducks were probably on a diet before they were overcooked. Morten’s taste buds were muted from his cold, but he still complained that his fries were over-salted. For me, the final straw was the pickled apples that were served with the duck but didn’t taste pickled or fully cooked; they tasted like thin apple pieces that were added to a pan as an afterthought and added to the dish as little more than a weak garnish alongside mini onions taken straight from the jar.
Refuel Restaurant: 2.5 out of 6
There’s not much worth writing about at Refuel Restaurant so I’ll stop here. If you want honest food served with an unpretentious atmosphere, try another restaurant.
Overall Food Group Rating: 2.5 out of 6
The Good: The dishes and décor looked good.
The Bad: Nothing tasted great.
The Ugly: Unless the restaurant is a super casual place with homey hearty food served with paper napkins, or even a really hip joint with fantastic well-prepared dishes that are so great nothing else matters, patrons shouldn’t be able to see the server’s breast tattoo.
Vancouver is still atwitter with debate on which gender sucks more in our tepid dating scene after last week’s Vancouver Magazine article, and it got me thinking about some of the dating faux pas I’ve made in the past. One tragic date began with an invitation to a homemade dinner. Trying to be polite, I brought a bottle of white wine. When I arrived, my date pointed out that it was the wrong kind of wine for halibut and felt slighted when I didn’t compliment his cooking enough; so slighted that he pointed it out.
Booze at Metropolitan Bartending School
The date ended as awkwardly as it began, and much later than it should have. Since then, I’ve been quite adamant about not accepting first date homemade dinner invitations and spend a little more time in the liquor store when trying to pick out a proper wine.
Since I still don’t know how to properly pair wines and beekeeping is not an option in the winter, I chose to take a Wine Workshop at Metropolitan Bartending School with Samba Days. When I phoned to book a spot in the class, the new owner recommended that I take the Bar Chef class instead because in his words “it’s a lot more fun.” So I thought, “why not? I’d much rather have fun than study for a potential date with a guy who I probably wouldn’t hit it off with anyway.” The owner at Metropolitan Bartending School is pretty easygoing so using the Samba Days card for a class that wasn’t listed wasn’t an issue.
Micah showing some flair
Our class began with an hour-long introduction to the basics of mixing drinks and an abbreviated history of cocktails. Our instructor, Micah, was enthusiastic about his profession and likened becoming a bar chef to a doctor deciding to become a specialist; every bartender can tend a bar just as every doctor can treat a patient, but bar chefs create cocktails using fresh ingredients that you would find in the kitchen, whereas mixologists focus on creating drinks that differ by their chemical structure, and beer pub servers know how to pour a lager. There were some amusing anecdotes thrown our way, but I did find myself wondering when we were going to start making drinks in this three and a half hour class.
After a half hour break, we each picked out a cutting board, knife, hawthorne strainer, regular strainer, muddler, cocktail shaker and glass to set up our stations. We were instructed to make whatever we wanted using the various fruits, vegetables and sauces that Micah had picked up from the supermarket ahead of time, and were left to our own devices. Micah walked about the room making sure all our questions were answered, and we basically played with food for the next two hours.
After each drink that we made, we would present it to the class and everyone would taste a sample. We each made three drinks which each contained only half a shot of gin / whiskey / rum so nobody even got buzzed, and we learned things like dragon fruit is difficult to muddle, more than a quarter of a Thai chili pepper in a drink will make it burn, and pear mixed with carbonated pop can end up tasting like detergent. It’s a good class to take if you enjoy experimenting with foods, and want to spend an evening with friends doing something different.
Thanks to Samba Days for letting me try this class!
Pepper Brown taunts me with her gingerbread house
I like sweets. I blame Mum for this one. Every time she sees me looking bored, she suggests having a piece of pie or cake, or a sweet bun. One day she asked what I wanted for dinner (I think I was in high school) and I said “cake” (as a joke). She kept asking and I kept replying “cake!” Eventually she gave up, left the apartment, and returned with an entire cake from the bakery downstairs. It wasn’t even a tiny cake; it was at least a 16″ traditional Chinese sponge cake with a layer of fruit and cream inside. I ate half of it for dinner.
I don’t think I eat as much dessert as I used to, but my friends still think I consume more than the average person. Not so long ago, Phil asked how many cupcakes I ate and I replied “I only had two.” “Only two?!” he asked “in how long?” That’s when I realized he was talking about the cupcake eating contest I took part in a while back. “Oh, I thought you meant how many I ate today!” “You ate two today??”
On a monthly average I probably consume one pie, half a cake, two donuts, half a box of cookies, two bowls of ice cream, 1/2 a jar of sweet spread, 35 spoonfuls of sugar (in coffee), a couple of sweet buns, maybe one or two Twinkies or other spongy snack-sized cakes, and a few handfuls of chocolates. Nothing crazy.
Two days ago, I started to wonder how long I would last if I didn’t eat any sugar at all. Denis has been off of it for a few years now and tells me that he feels much better as a result. I decided I’d try it.
It’s only day two and I’m floundering! I’m now using honey as a sugar substitute in my coffee and trying desperately to avoid all the cake, boxes of chocolates, and decorated gingerbread houses in my apartment. It’s not easy. I ended up eating a piece of 70% dark chocolate but it just wasn’t enough. I might have even broken down tonight while playing Rummikub directly across from two very yummy looking gingerbread houses. Ang got scared. I don’t know how long this can go on for…
I’ve listened to this song hundreds of times over the past year and it’s still my favourite: Fuel Up by Stornoway. I thought you might enjoy it too.
The first photo of Bee and me in 3rd year. We haven’t aged much. Yay, Asian genes!
How do you measure time?
Up until I finished my degree at SFU, I would recall events by what grade (K-12) or year (1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th) I was in. After there were no more school years, I remembered things by whether they happened before or after Russia, my stint in Australia, the US road-trip, or Peru. I’ve gotten so used to measuring things by grade levels or international borders that not boarding a plane between Montréal last summer and Vegas this summer made it difficult to remember what happened in between. This memory-lapse phenomenon might be why people make annual summary newsletters or blog posts; it’s why I’m doing it.
2011. I remember going into the year thinking that it couldn’t be worse than 2010. It wasn’t.
The WordCamp: Developers Team
I started the year by taking a full-time contract administrative position at an engineering firm, while working part-time at a medical clinic doing their billing, and taking on two new clients as a freelance copy writer. I remember being in Victoria when my friend called about the first client, and then in Bellingham when another friend called about the second client. I was working between 50 and 70 hours a week for the first four months of the year and I was in love with my busy schedule. So in love that I filled any time I had between working hours with volunteer shifts at the PuSh Festival, snowboarding on Grouse Mountain, and organizing the WordCamp: Developers conference. Even my lunch breaks were spent either on the phone with clients, with MSP billing services, or reading one of the five books I got through in the first four months. I drank a lot of coffee and developed a very bad habit of eating chocolate whenever I entered or left the apartment or my car (I always had a box of chocolates by the door and in the car), but I was having a good time.
PuSh Festival with a guy named Ryan — there’s a great story behind this photo
Though I loved my schedule, I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever and I had come to realize a few things along the way about what I really wanted. And so, it was a fresh new start. My contract at the engineering firm ended, I trained new hires at the medical clinic, and focused on my clients and the WordCamp: Developers conference. The conference went so well that I was beaming for days afterwards. But once the conference was over, I suddenly had all this free time and I didn’t know what to do with it.
This is where things got tricky. My close friend asked me to be a bridesmaid for her destination wedding in November (which I accepted of course!). There was also a stagette in Vegas and a bridal shower to plan, a birthday trip to Tofino for another close friend, and a trip to Squamish with the two — all spaced a month or two apart. I wouldn’t be able to travel or take a permanent full-time position until after the wedding, so I was in a bit of a limbo with a lot of time to fill between engagements, and a lot of upcoming costs. I started to worry a bit (and then a lot), but I consider myself a very lucky person so I knew things would work in the end.
Live at Squamish with Bee and Lisa <3
An old classmate then contacted me out of the blue and offered me a temporary summer position with flexible hours, a client referred me to another company who contracted my copy writing services, and a company in the UK offered to sponsor some blog posts. Things started to slowly fall into place, and I spent the summer making day-trips to the states where I sorted some paperwork for American citizenship (I’m now officially a dual citizen), and to the island where a company arranged a sponsored caving trip for me. The PuSh Festival had long ended by then, but the 12x12 Vancouver Photo Marathon was just revving up for its third year so I worked on that with Ang and Morten, and then started volunteering at other events like SPCA’s Paws for a Cause, and updating First United’s Raiser’s Edge donor database. I also wrote my first short novel during the 3-day Novel Contest. This relaxed do-whatever summer was a huge departure from the frantic pace of the first third of the year. I had fun but I wasn’t sure I enjoyed having quite so much free time, so I decided to fill it with something else in the fall: school.
Halloween with the girls
I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to continue taking classes! I love learning new things. 8 ) I enrolled in two classes at UBC as a political science major, another class outside of university to pursue a passion in the arts, and ended up taking sword fighting lessons for kicks. When I was at the UBC bookstore to get my student ID, I overheard a first year student who didn’t want to buy a used textbook even if it was in perfect condition just because it was “used.” I remember thinking the same thing in my first semester and then realizing by the second semester that new textbooks are a major money pit. I really wanted to tell him what I knew — what he would eventually learn but would help him to know now. I couldn’t very well approach every first year student on campus to give advice, so I pitched a student life column to Vancouver 24 Hours and was positively thrilled when the editor-in-chief read my sample article and offered me a paid weekly column!
In Mexico with Bee. We bring Vancouver wherever we go!
Throughout the term at UBC — part three of my year — things got a bit rough on the relationship front with the strain of my friend’s wedding taking its toll on everyone. There was one point after my birthday where I was ready to throw in the towel as a bridesmaid and forego the money I had spent so far on wedding trip deposits and payments (over $2,000 at this point). Like I said, it was a rough patch. We ended up talking through it all though, and the Vegas weekend stagette, the Vancouver stagette, the bridal shower, and all three parts of the wedding in Vancouver, Mexico and then Vancouver again went on (almost) as planned. The week in Mexico was an incredible disaster as far as a destination wedding / “vacation” goes (LOL) but because it was so awful, it ended up being one of my favourite trips to date! I learned the most in this third part of the year thanks to my enabling friends, and I wouldn’t have changed our time together even if it was an option.
And that was 2011! It was like living three years in one, with some better than others and a lot of learning done along the way. I’m looking forward to 2012 and plan to make the most of it! 
Here are some photos from 2011 that sum up the year (maximum one photo per event). There are lots of memories that I didn’t get to capture with the camera, and others that I did but wouldn’t post online out of courtesy to family and friends.
Dissecting the oden assortment at Guu Izakaya
I’ve been busy with very little lately which is why this Dinner Club review is a good two weeks late. With the holiday season upon us though, I didn’t think anyone would notice. Did you? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Morten picked this month’s restaurant and we were all surprised that he picked a Japanese izakaya since he doesn’t eat fish. We went to the original Guu Izakaya on Thurlow Street. Since they opened in 1993, they’ve opened five other locations in the Vancouver area. Kenny has been to a couple of the other locations, but this was his first time at the original restaurant and noted that the menu is completely different.
We split up the menu and all ordered from different sections to share. Our bill included:
The dishes aren’t made for group sharing but with an expert knife-handler like Ang at the table, we each got a bite of everything.
In general, the meal was underwhelming. Nothing was “bad,” but very little was considered “good.” Most of our group (myself excluded) liked the kabocha korokke which included a boiled egg in the middle, my favourite dish was the aigamo salad made with roasted duck on greens (I know, how boring), and everyone agreed that the dishes were all about texture.
Ahh texture. I’ve never experienced so many levels of gooey, mushy, gloppy, sticky, jelly, and slimy in one meal. You could tell that everything was prepared the way it was meant to be made, but that didn’t make it taste better. There was a lot of “what’s this thing?” and “I can’t figure out which one this is supposed to be” going on — especially when the oden assortment arrived because it’s hard to tell a fish cake apart from a squid rolled fish cake when you don’t know what they look like. In just that one bowl there were at least four very different textures ranging from a tougher grey dotted block of something to a gooey sticky rice thing in a tofu sack that looked like it was taken off the set of some alien horror flick.
When the food is technically correct, I can’t give it a straight thumbs down; it’s what it should be. But, when the food isn’t great, things like the atmosphere and overall value can be influencing factors on a vote. We were seated at a table in the back with very narrow benches that were placed in a small allocation of space between the table and the walls. The restaurant requires reservations and puts a time limit on your stay which makes the meal feel rushed if you’re used to some post-dinner conversation. And in the end, everyone (including Phil!) was neither satisfied or full. We ended up going to Cafe Crepe for another meal.
Overall Food Group Rating: 4 out of 6
The Good: If you’re looking for traditional Japanese izakaya dishes and like a variety of gooey textures, Guu is great. The service is also very good.
The Bad: The seating arrangements are terrible. There’s very little room, it’s not comfortable to lean back against the wall (and when Ang did she felt something sticky on her back), and the time limit on meals is unappetizing.
The Ugly: I couldn’t stop staring at the door to their washroom area. It’s this old door made for the exterior of a house that’s literally falling apart (there are splits down the door) and every time someone walked through I worried it would fall off completely because it was already partially unhinged.
HP had been whinging about not being included in Dinner Club, so for his birthday I took him to a restaurant that I would’ve chosen for Dinner Club if it was my turn this month. We went to Toko Restaurant and I wish we hadn’t because that was probably the worst birthday meal we’ve ever shared. I had thought Toko was a Japanese restaurant, but they include everything Asian from kimchi to Szechuan — that is, everything except sushi. It’s one of those “generically Asian” places that no Asian would actually go to and there was enough salt in each dish to make a dog sick. Bad choice. Sorry HP!
Toko Restaurant: 0 out of 2
Since he wanted the full Dinner Club experience, we voted at the end of the meal. This is our third attempt at getting a picture but they’re all blurry because I didn’t have my flash on and HP hasn’t mastered the art of holding his thumb straight or in one position for longer than half a second. 
Me, my mo, and my half lamb-half beef platter
Choosing a restaurant for Dinner Club this month proved to be more challenging than I had anticipated. We’ve tried organic, Japanese, German, Ethiopian, BBQ, American, Afghan, Sri Lankan, and Chinese on more than one occasion, so I was hoping to find something more Mediterranean like Greek or Balkan to round out our repertoire. There were no Greek or Balkan restaurants that struck my fancy, but somewhere in the search I ended up finding rave reviews for a little mom-n-pop shop in Port Moody called Ben Laila Donair. Advertised as “authentic Jerusalem cuisine”, it had to make the list.
Phil, Ann and Kenny were probably questioning my judgment when we first walked in because we were the only customers in a small shop that could only accommodate six people (the size of our group) with their three small tables. Ang and Morten were also unimpressed with my selection when I announced that it was in Port Moody — far from everyone and everything. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a pointless act to have made reservations.
We puttered around trying to decide between chicken, beef, lamb or falafel donairs / platters so much that the very nice lady who ran the show cut up a few samples of the beef and lamb for us to try. At that moment, all reservations about the place were gone. Both the beef and the lamb were delicious! We ended up ordering: one chicken platter, one beef platter, two lamb platters, one falafel platter, one half beef — half lamb platter (they don’t list this on the menu, but mixed-meat orders are available), and two baklavas to share.
I was starving when we arrived so I wondered how long it would take for the food to arrive considering there was only one person working behind the counter. It didn’t take long at all! We had started talking about the recent deaths and murders in Vancouver (the evening news was playing in the background) and Justin Bieber’s love child (thanks to Ang), so by the time Kim Kardashian’s claim to fame became the hot topic and Kenny exclaimed “Why don’t I have a show?!?”, the food was ready.
Kenny helping out by serving our table
Since there was only the one person working behind the counter, we picked up our trays cafeteria-style and helped ourselves to the fridge for drinks. It felt a lot like dining at someone’s home where the host would ask us things like “does anyone want hot sauce or more tzatziki?” from the kitchen and we’d pass around the condiments, feel compelled to clean up whenever we could, and apologize if we didn’t finish our food.
I didn’t finish my falafel (I’m not actually a fan of falafel), but of all the falafels I have ever tried this one was the best. I don’t know what it means to make “fresh falafel” (which is what they do), but it works. Everyone was pleased with the hot, tender, green melt-in-your-mouth filling surrounded by a lightly crunchy outer shell.
The meat platters were also crowd pleasers. The chicken, lamb and beef were all cooked perfectly and came with generous portions of rice and tabule (salad), and unlimited tzatziki and hot sauce. The only criticism that I have is that the meats were over salted and really didn’t need to be. If it weren’t for the wonderful service and incredible value, I would’ve voted with half a thumb, rather than a full thumbs up. But, the service really was good and it would’ve been rude of me not to recognize it.
Overall Food Group Rating: 6 out of 6
Ben Laila Donair: 6 out of 6
The Good: Falafel, and all of the meats! You can’t go wrong ordering anything off the menu.
The Bad: The location is terrible. If Ben Laila was situated in downtown Vancouver they’d have people lining up the blocks at all hours of the day! But they’re not in Vancouver, they’re in the middle of nowhere Port Moody and there’s little to no foot traffic there.
The Ugly: Ben Laila is more of a disposable plates and cutlery kind of establishment, so don’t expect any frills.
We’re sexy and we know it ;{D
Today’s picture of the day comes courtesy of Movember! Bee and I went to pick up our bridesmaids dresses in our mo’s. Sexy. I know.
Remember to visit our group page at www.mosista.co/mymoisbigger and click the DONATE button! 
As a sidenote, I wore my mo to class for the first time today. My prof. pledged to support Movember because in his words “got to give her something. She’s got hair glued to her face!” Thanks Dr. Baier!
On my way to class, a couple on the skytrain also tapped my shoulder to ask what the mo was all about. I told them it was in support of Prostate Cancer Canada through Movember, and they gave me $4.25 for the cause! Thanks Dave and Paula!
