I had considered writing a long post, about all the different oysters I’ve tried at various places. I’ve conscienciously jotted down all the names and my thoughts on each. But let me simply cut to the chase.
There is always a trade off between price, ambiance and quality. I love a dive bar with great food. I love to save a bit of money, particularly on the road. But there are times when the most upscale, seemingly expensive establishment is the way to go. And it may be no more expensive than many other options.
After nearly a week of smoke and heat, combined with stale cooking odors and no sleep, I desperately needed some self care, and for me that often involves a good meal. I’d scoped out the seafood restaurants in town and had at least a mental list of those that I’d like to try if they worked into my itinerary.
YEW Seafood + Bar was one of them. And it just happened to be located in the Four Seasons, just across the way from the Gallery with the Monet exhibit. And it just happens to be wonderfully air conditioned and a refuge from the smoke outside.
The downstairs lobby is busy with people coming and going. An escalator leads up to the main lobby, and tucked discreetly off to the side is YEW. Their mantra:
Modern. Coastal. Social.
Yew’ll be hooked.
And hooked I am.
Oysters at YEW Seafood + Bar, Four Seasons, Vancouver BC
I sat at the bar (what’s new!) and perused the menu. But of course, oysters to start. If this is to be a decadent take-care-of-myself-luncheon, it calls for oysters.
Six perfect oysters with lemon and mignonette. I need this. I feel the soot and the heat that have settled in my throat. But the cool brininess is taking over, one oyster at a time, and life is feeling good again.
It’s beautiful; it’s cool in the restaurant. The bartender is friendly and helpful without being intrusive. The restaurant has the hum of a well run, happy establishment.
It’s not inexpensive, but not overly expensive either. Either way, on this hot, smokey day, I do not care. It gives me respite from that nasty condo where I am supposed to sleep.
After six perfect oysters, leaving is still not on my agenda. I’m hungry and it’s hot and smokey outside.
I order a Salade Nicoise.
Salade Nicose for me is both health food and comfort food. It has many of my favorite elements: greens, eggs, green beans, Mediterranean olives, potatoes, and of course tuna. Perhaps a hint of anchovy. To sing, it needs to have the ingredients drawn together with just the right touch of richness and tang in the dressing. Each item has to shine, yet happily compliment all the others.
This salad can be bold and peasanty, or more elegant and refined.
The Four seasons version of the salad arrives. It is beautifully constructed and arranged. It falls somewhere between the peasant version (which I usually make at home) and Riviera elegance. I dip my fork into the greens.
Perfection.
Salade Nicoise, Four Seasons, Vancouver BC
The egg is perfected boiled, a bit on the soft side; the black olives are pitted and not too salty; and just the smallest bit of perfect white anchovy is interspersed in the greens.
Four large pieces of barely seared tuna sit atop the salad.
I realize I am starved. With each bite, I get another combination of lovely ingredients, prepared and presented perfectly. The quality of the tuna is outstanding It’s so fresh, and fork tender. I consider repeating this meal every day until I leave for Whistler.
The perfect end to the perfect lunch at Yew, Four Seasons, Vancouver
I finish off lunch with an espresso with lemon peel. Just the way I like it. It’s real espresso, done right.
Life is good again.
I love nice surroundings. I am comfortable there. I recall the vast sitting areas in the Madrid Ritz with the glass ceiling high above; the (formerly) shabby chic of the Algonquin; the grounds overlooking the Aegean at Lagonissi, where I spent many a summer.
Then it hits me.
Hard.
I haven’t done this for a while. Since, well, cancer.
This simple meal speaks volumes to me. About my life trajectory, my expectations and my experiences of recent years.
The stock market and real estate market tanked, just as I was starting my first round of treatment. I went from a paper net worth of millions, to not so much. Out of fear and a need for cash for cancer treatment, I pulled money from the market. My investment advisor fired me. I realized later that he didn’t make a commission on anything that sat in cash (and his “firing” me was probably illegal). I should have known that, but at the time I was consumed with a diagnosis of incurable cancer. I faced an uncertain future on so many levels. The antics of my investment advisor who had just lost half of my portfolio were hardly my major concern.
Like most cancer patients, I felt helpless. Helplessness over the uncertainty of the entire situation; helplessness over the outcome of treatment and the after effects of the drugs; helplessness over the mounting costs; helplessness as the tech creeps walked off with my hard earned intellectual property.
Sitting in the Vancouver Four Seasons having this perfect meal, I realize that I deserve many more perfect meals. I deserve a different life trajectory than the one of recent years.
A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
The Price of Perfection
I also realized that by “indulging” in this perfect meal, it cost me no more than many not so perfect meals of late. Some of the establishments that I visited pitched dollar oysters, then did a bait and switch. The type of oyster offered for a dollar was hardly a Kumamoto. I often ended up with a plate of very mediocre oysters that cost me nearly as much as this perfect lunch.
So where’s the moral in the story? To paraphrase the famous Cyndi Lauper song:
“And girls they wanna have lunch Oh girls just want to have lunch…”
Preferably at the Four Seasons.
To the Four Seasons Vancouver and Yew, my heart felt thanks on many levels!
Seldom do one’s travels go exactly as planned. I’d anticipated getting outdoors a good deal during my stay in Vancouver, but that was not meant to be. The city was shrouded in heavy smoke from the British Columbia wildfires and experiencing an unusual heat wave.
It’s been HOT, HOT, HOT!
And no place has it been hotter than in the Airbnb that I stayed in.
No air flow to speak of through the condo, and worse yet, no air conditioning.
Seriously?
Apparently in Seattle and Vancouver hot weather is uncommon enough that it is somewhat common not to have any central cooling.
In the future, this is a question I will be asking of any potential places I stay. Because my accommodations, in this very nice condo, have been miserable.
Under normal circumstances, I’d recommend this Airbnb. It’s located in a relatively new building in Chinatown on Keefer street. Great location. It’s within easy walking distance of Gastown and there are two parking garages on the street, one of which is modern and for an urban area, fairly well priced.
The entire Airbnb experience started off well enough. The “owner” (I suspect she was managing this particular unit) was kind enough to meet me a bit early at the property. We chatted. She babbled about the number of properties she has and how the city wanted her to get a business license. She was obviously proud of her growing real estate empire via Airbnb. And capitalizing on what has been the skyrocketing Vancouver real estate market, no doubt. Good for her.
She ran me through the basics of the condo. The keys; how to use the elevator.
I asked about the air conditioning. I am a bit of a utility whore. I can’t stand being too hot.
Suddenly her perfect English disappeared. “Fan, fan” she said, pointing agitatedly to a free standing fan unit in the corner. She turned and practically ran out the door.
I watched as the door closed behind her and the heavy curtains moved in the smokey, hot breeze.
A fan. Really.
I’m pretty adaptable, but the sweat was starting to pour out of me. Rivuets of moisture ran down my face and back as I surveyed the situation.
The sun struggling through the smoky haze was beating its heat into the condo.
The only possible sources of ventilation were two small windows, each in a wall of windows, in the main room and the bedroom. Each window cantilevered out about three inches, barely catching any passing breeze. And there was a door to a small patio.
The patio overlooked the rooftop of a restaurant next door. And on the rooftop were a series of six massive exhaust fans that obviously served the kitchen. I say obviously, because the odor of used cooking oil and Chinese seasonings rose up though the hazy air and into the condo.
Surveying the situation, I guessed that opening the patio door during the late evening into morning, and closing the unit during the mid day heat would offer the best strategy. It would be a tradeoff between sweltering heat and the wafting odors of stale cooking smells.
I got on line to see what my cancellation options were, and what else was available. The cancellation procedures were rather byzantine and definitely not in my favor. The only hotel rooms in town seemed to start at $400-500 dollars per night. Plus parking. Plus taxes. Plus the cost of this Airbnb. Leaving was not really an option.
Ok, let’s see if I can’t manage this. I’ve been through much worse, although at the moment, I can’t recall when.
The first night I simply roasted in the putrid air. There is no relief, just more claustrophobic heat and the wafting odors of dead cooking oil from the building next door. The exhaust fans on the roof below create a palpable hum that reverberates through everything from the air to the mattress.
Here is my review for the Airbnb site on this Vancouver condo:
“The unit has no air conditioning. In the winter with closed windows, this would be irrelevant. It is a very nice unit. But in a smoke filled summer, in a heat wave, this is appalling. The stench of the fried food coming off of the kitchen fans that dominate the roof of the building next door is revolting. The noise is deafening. Even with earphones on, the relentless strumming noise still reverberates through the apartment.
The lack of transparency by the host to note the noise, the odor and note the lack of air conditioning is not ok. It’s particularly not ok for me: I have both asthma and cancer. This is a high heat, noise filled, odor horrific experience I don’t need.
Bottom line, ask a LOT of questions, including surroundings, utilities and refunds under adverse conditions. If you don’t have to open the windows, this is a great place. If you do, be prepared for the gentle squawk of the morning seagulls to give way to the reverberations of massive fan units on the roof next door, followed by stale cooking odors that waft upwards and linger in the condo indefinitely. And should you care for a glass of wine, BYOC (bring your own corkscrew). The kitchen is poorly equipped.”
But finally, 4 nights later, the heat wave is beginning to break and an offshore low is bringing fresh sea air and rain to the area. I have finally slept at least a good part of the night. Well rested (compared to the rest of the sweltering week), I set off to explore Chinatown in a bit more detail.
Vancouver Chinatown
A view in Dr. Sun Yat-Sen’s Chinese Garden, Vancouver, Canada
I am a very visual person. I think about sight lines and patterns as I put together a room or an image (the latter is a fledgling skill). When others show similar thought, I notice. And a place of note for exquisite balance and beauty is the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden and the attached public gardens.
The art and design of this property integrates yin and yang; references to other world, human and earthly elements. Much like the Bill Reid Gallery, the elements of design have great depth, complexity and often ambiguity which is one of the things that makes them so interesting.
The integration of the past with the present, with an eye to the future evolution of a garden such as this is a monumental task. All great gardens have a timeless depth to them. I once stayed in a bed and breakfast on Cape Cod with a garden designed by Olmsted. Through the tranquility you could feel the love and care that went into its creation. It was a sacred space.
What makes a sacred garden space? I think it’s a space that suspends us in thought, time and place. Its an ageless, soulful experience, that moves through time, day by day and decade by decade.
Here a just a few images of shifting shadows, beautiful vistas, bridges and paths from from Dr. Sun Yat-Sen’s garden:
Bridge in the public garden
A view into the garden from the teahouse
Chinese Garden, Vancouver
This is a magical garden that is well worth a visit. And it’s a great starting point for a walking tour of Vancouver’s Chinatown. From the brochure, allow me to provide a bit of background on this wonderful oasis in the midst of the city:
“The Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden is the first classical garden constructed ouside of China. Its financing and construction represent a unique cooperative effort between Canada, the People’s Republic of China and Vancouver’s Chinese and non-Chinese communities. It is modeled after the highest standards of private classical gardens in the city of Suzhou during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644).
These Suzhou-style gardens represent the apex of Chinese architecture, philosophy, art and calligraphy.
Note the detailed pebble design in the main courtyard
A team of 53 experts from Suzhou spent 13 months constructing the Garden. Working with them were Vancouver architect Joe Wai and the landscape architect Don Vaughan. The materials, tools and techniques used were nearly identical to those used centuries ago. Most of the architectural components were shipped from China; hand fired roof tiles, carved woodwork, lattice windows, limestone rocks and even the courtyard pebbles.
Construction of the Garden began in March 1985. This labouroflove cost $5.3 million (Canadian) and was officially opened in 1986. In June 2004, the $1.9 million new wing, designed by Joe Wai Arcitects and featuring the Hall of One Hundred Rivers, was opened to complement the existing garden spaces.”
On this day, just around the corner, a street fair is taking place. Booths line the streets; vendors inhabit the booths; and people browse.
Street fair in Chinatown, Vancouver
In one booth, a potter brings clay to life:
New Town Bakery in Chinatown, Vancouver
I browse the streets, looking for a Chinese bakery I had passed the other day. Since no cruise through Chinatown would be complete without some Dim Sum, I stopped in New Town Bakery and Restaurant. The shrimp dumplings are simply perfect. I tip my imaginary hat to Eva as I enjoy these delicate morsels. Dim sum is available to eat on the premises or to go. The dining facilities are limited, and many people place large orders to go.
This bakery and dim sum restaurant is not an unknown find I can take credit for. It’s been discovered by others as well:
2012 : CNN Travel | World’s best Chinatowns : “Must-visit restaurant” in Vancouver Chinatown
Be sure you discover it too, when you visit Vancouver.
Vancouver Lighthouse Park
In my continued attempts to find relief from the heat, I plotted trips to places near the water, using my (air conditioned) car. This both kept me out of the smoke ridden air and heat, avoided the parking meister in the parking garage (who found countless ways to pad my parking bill), and at least partially avoided the horrifically hot, odorific condo. It also expanded my explorations.
Urban Poles revolutionize the walking experience.
Naturally I drove through Stanley Park. I wish it had been clear enough to see the surrounding hills and mountains. But even in the smoky murk, it is spectacular. I had planned to get my Urban Poles out and walk the perimeter, but it wasn’t meant to be this trip. (If you decide to try a pair of Urban Poles, use the discount code in the right sidebar just for readers of CancerRoadTrip).
Lions Gate Bridge connects the Stanley Park to North and West Vancouver. I can imagine what the city must look and feel like in good weather. But all I can see is smoke and haze.
Map-Lighthouse Park
Even under such conditions, Canada is so beautiful. Even the currency is gorgeous. I shall come back for a more extensive trip. But this foray into the northern and western suburbs was wonderful.
A view of the lighthouse in Lighthouse Park. Note that the smoke totally obscures the view of Vancouver
While still hot, being near the water and in the densely forested walk down to the lighthouse helped still the heat somewhat. And the smoke was slowly starting to break up as the first suggestions of a low pressure system moved into the area.
The park is situated in a rain forest that receives over 50 inches of rain per year. Numerous trails wind their way through the grounds and on this day, a park ranger warned everyone of a bear that seemed to be wandering about as well. Perhaps he too was seeking some relief from the stagnant weather.
Vancouver Maritime Museum
Another heat avoiding possibility presented itself: The Maritime Museum, across the Burrard Street Bridge. In addition to the museum, the walking paths along the water are worth a trip unto themselves. And it was a good 5 degrees cooler, especially in the shade.
Everywhere I go in Vancouver, I am struck by what a human city this is. It’s clean; spectacular; the people are great, and it’s very walkable. The link to the Canadian outdoors is an integral part of life here, even more than in the Seattle area. Vancouver is truly a world class city with world class amenities. And oysters. But that’s another post!
Northwest Passage, an imaginary inland waterway that appeared on maps for many years
The museum turned out to be an absolute delight. For those of you that read this blog regularly, you know that I collect and am endlessly curious about rare maps and the exploration of North America. One of the most interesting aspects (for me) of this museum was the fact that it was the Canadians that finally managed to navigate a Northwest Passage. This museum is dedicated to that effort.
Originally, the Northwest Passage was a 18th century myth made up about a way to navigate from the east coast to the west, via an inland waterway. This myth persisted for years. But an actual Northwest Passage was finally found by the Canadian ship the St. Roch (pronounced ROCK), a Canadian mounted Police Schooner, made of thick Douglas fir, and lined with Australian eucalyptus. In 1940–1942 she became first vessel to complete a voyage through the Northwest Passage, an arctic route, winding through ice blocked passages and an archipelago of islands, in a west to east direction.
The museum features a fully restored St. Roch, right at waters edge. Which means it’s a spectacular location with cooling ocean breezes. I think I won big time with this expedition.
Viva la Canada!
Viva La Canada!
Granville Island
And of course, a visit to Vancouver had to include Granville Island Market:
Flowers! At the market!
All sorts of vendors are present at the market. This pickle company had an assortment of homemade pickles to die for!
The Pacific Northwest has an amazing assortment of great local food. this stand displays the “usual” assortment of local, fresh produce.
This shop offered all things tea and made the perfect almond milk latte for my morning matcha fix.
The water taxi brings people to the island market.
“Our voyage began in myth time…” says the Haida myth maker.
So starts the tale of The Spirit of Haida Gwaii. But to understand the history of this iconic and transcendent work of art, one must reset one’s contemporary clock to myth time, Pacific Northwest. In this time zone, earth merges with sea, indigenous people with animals and spirits, and timeless voyages of mythic proportions are undertaken.
Haida Gwaii aka Queen Charlotte Islands
Bill Reid’s Haida Heritage
The Haida, (sometimes spelled Hydah), are an indigenous people of the Pacific Northwest Coast from Haida Gwaii in northern British Columbia, Canada. They’ve occupied this archipelago for more than 17,000 years.
Like other people of the Pacific Northwest, their heritage is intimately tied to the land and the sea. Of the 150 islands in this archipelago, the largest are Graham Island in the north and Moresby Island in the south. Vancouver lies well to the southeast across the Hecate Strait. Alaska, where the Haida have resided for over 200 years, lies to the north.
Bill Reid was a renown Canadian historian, writer, master goldsmith, carver, and sculptor, and son of a Haida mother and Scottish father. It was his Haida heritage that would eventually lead him to become one of Canada’s greatest artists.
Bill Reid possessed many skills. His communication skills fostered connection and understanding. His gold and silver smithing created spectacular jewelry with a strong Haida influence. And his sculpting skills would lead to a number of magnificent bronzes reflecting his Haida heritage.
The Spirit of Haida Gwaii
He is perhaps best known for his most public bronze, the Spirit of Haida Gwaii. Two casts were made: The Spirit of Haida Gwaii, the Black Canoe resides in the Canadian embassy in Washington DC and The Spirit of Haida Gwaii, the Jade Canoe, is in the Vancouver International Airport.
Other pieces of his work can be seen at The Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art. This gallery is a national and human treasure, showcasing the pride and exceptional richness of Pacific Northwest history.
Much like the Carriers of the Canoe in the Suquamish Museum in Washington, The Spirit of Haida Gwaii melds a diverse group of mythical creatures that tie land, sea and humanity together in a voyage across time.
In the canoe, the Raven holds the steering oar. The Raven is the trickster of Haida mythology, the bringer of change. She is both powerful and flighty. As a steersman, will her guidance bring stability or (mis)adventure?
Mouse Woman, under Raven’s tail, provides a strong moral compass as she strives for balance between earth and her creatures.
Grizzly bear, stares at Raven. The bear represents freedom and understanding, family and stability. He brings comfort and companionship to the others.
Bear Mother, grizzly’s human wife, gave birth to twin bear cubs creating a human-bear bond. Legend has it that she was the daughter of a prominent tribesman. Her two cubs, Good Bear and Bad Bear are distinguished by the direction in which their ears point.
“Dogfish Woman is another powerful figure in the pantheon of beings of the sea. The dogfish is a small variety of shark that inhabits the waters of Haida Gwaii. Dogfish Woman is a crest belonging to many of the Haida clans, and is related to a story of a woman ancestor who could transform herself into a dogfish. It is in this form that she enters into a whole other realm of experience, the undersea world.”
Other figures such as Eagle, Frog and Wolf also inhabit the boat, each bringing their mythological strengths and weaknesses to the voyage. In the middle is the human Shaman who holds a staff carved with images of Seabear, Raven, and Killer Whale.
The sculpture is 20 ft long, almost 13 ft from the base to the top of the Shaman’s staff, and weighs nearly 11,000 pounds.
Bill Reid’s Haida Gwaii is a bronze of unbelievable complexity, both in execution and in its story. For in the story of this sculpture, lies the story of its people. And, indeed, of indigenous people everywhere. The museum has an extraordinarily moving video that explores the various elements of this bronze on the second floor mezzanine . It is mesmerizing. If you go, do not walk by these films, tucked quietly alongside the beautifully sculpted handrail. Be sure to stop and be drawn in by the richness of this transcendent tale.
The Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art viewed from the upstairs balcony
The Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art holds so many wonderful surprises, ranging from jewelry based on Haida Gwaii tradition, to another magnificent bronze-Mythic Messengers- mounted high above the ground floor gallery. (These pictures don’t begin to do justice to the extraordinary artwork in this museum).
Close up of Mythic Messengers
According to Bill Reid:
“this work was inspired by a device often used by Haida artists, an exchange of tongues, whereby power was communicated from one mythic creature to another. At a deeper level, the power of these old forms, born of a mythological past, reinterpreted through new materials and techniques, in a contemporary setting, can still speak to us across time, space, and enormous cultural differences.”
Using these mythic creatures, the bronze tells five stories:
The Bear Family: Mother, Prince and their two cubs
Nanasimget, his wife, and her Killer Whale abductor
Wasgo, the Sea Wolf who feasts on three whales a day, joined by the Frog, his spiritual helper
The Dogfish Woman, a female Shaman with great powers
The Eagle Prince
The piece was originally commissioned by Teleglobe Canada and later donated to the museum.
Bill Reid was equally adept in numerous mediums. Here is a sampling of his work from the museum:
Bill Reid captured mythic images in gold jewelry.
Haida Necklace. The “rope” is made of ivory.
Bil Reid was also a talented sculptor.
A paper cache mural of Dogfish
This gallery is a showcase of the exceptional richness of Pacific Northwest history through Bill Reids eyes and talents. If you only go to one museum in Vancouver, I highly recommend this one, for its exploration of the past, the incredible quality of Bill Reid’s works and contributions, and just for fun. It is a stunning gallery to visit and to share.
On Bill Reid:
On the collected works:
The Vancouver Art Gallery: Impressionist Exhibit
Vancouver Art Gallery
Impressionists weren’t shrouded in myth. At least not when they started out. If anything these visionary renegades were aggressively shunned by the traditional art world. But their vision would provide to be a pivot point for the history of art, bridging from the traditional portrait painters to the modernity of contemporary art.
The Monet exhibit at the Vancouver Museum of Art includes Monet’s iconic painting that lent the name Impressionist to the painter’s movement. While some of Monet’s more familiar art is present, a great deal of darker paintings from his latter days at Giverny, when his eyesight was failing him, are also part of the collection. The exhibit is well worth seeing, but it falls short of the Impressionist show that toured San Fransicso some years back and little can compare with his Paris displays.
One of the most remarkable paintings in this touring collection is the painting that inadvertently provided the name of the Impressionist movement: Impression, Sunrise.
Impression, Sunrise by Monet
This painting was first shown at the Exhibition of the Impressionists in April 1874. It depicts the port of Le Havre.
The entire collection is accompanied by Stephen Shore’s photographic collection that follows the restoration of Giverny. This set of photographs alone is fascinating, as it chronicles the loving restoration of Monet’s famous house and gardens. All in all, a great exhibit.
Footnote: My original plan in Vancouver was to focus on the amazing outdoor aspect of this Pacific northwest city. But wildfires in British Columbia, plus a heat wave, created very bad air quality, which necessitated a change in my focus. That plus an lodging misadventure (story to come!). The vagaries of travel! Stay tuned for more on my #Vancouver adventure.
I had always intended to go to Vancouver with Eva.
Eva was born in Czechoslovakia and emigrated to Canada. She had lived in Richmond, just south of Vancouver, before moving in next door to me in Connecticut, and she was eager to show me her adopted “hometown”. But the opportunity never quite came together. Between moves, divorces and then sadly, her death, we never got to make that trip together.
Eva died of liver failure. I suspect it was at least partly due to an inordinate fondness for alcohol. But she was a big girl, with big appetites, and that included quantity, as well as sometimes quality. I wish I could find that picture of the two of us. Me in my preppy tweed, Burberry coat and boots. Eva in stretch lycra, big hair and leather and always wearing her big, wonderful smile.
You couldn’t juxtapose two more different women, yet that was a key part of the friendship. She wanted whatever was bright and hot and cool. She could own a handbag for a week and be done with it. I, on the other hand, would carefully choose my classic Coach bag and keep it forever. She adored touristy stuff and chachkies. I didn’t care for either. She was extremely gregarious; I was more reserved.
From New Haven to Newport
Eva insisted on a day trip to Newport, RI to see the mansions. Yawn. I had zero interest. But I got dragged along, as driver and friend.
Eva’s enthusiasm and appetites were always engaging, and Newport suited her to a tee. The more gold, the better! The more sordid the history, the more involved she got. The gaudier the building, the more it pleased Eva.
The truth is, I had a blast. From the Renaissance excess of The Breakers, to the bobbing boats in the harbor, it was a great day. Part of it was the company. Part of it was a simple realization on my part:
Touristy things can be a bunch of fun
Seattle and Mt. Rainer from the Space Needle
Preferably followed by a good lunch to ease the madness of crowds. A recent visit to the Space Needle is a case in point. The view was magnificent, and Mount Ranier was visible in the background. But the elevator opened to the smell of stale popcorn with synthetic butter. And the unrelenting, senseless loudness of people in crowds never ceases to amaze me.
Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt. -Abraham Lincoln
Sculptural orbs line the walkway under the Space Needle
Chihuly Outdoor Gardens
The grounds surrounding the Space Needle were beautiful and the integration of blown glass forms into the outdoor gardens was my favorite part of the Chihuly Garden and Glass exhibit.
For me, the most interesting aspect of this monument from the 1962 World’s Fair was the historic story board that lines the ramp leading up to the glass enclosed elevator. (Note: The elevator is touristy fun. The story board makes the long wait touristy fun too.) As is the history of the fair:
The theme of the fair was modern science and space exploration. The U.S. government was eager to display it’s prowess in these areas and provided $9 million towards funding the event which was held April 21 through October 21, 1962. It drew almost 10 million visitors, including me and my family. And Elvis Presley, who was shooting a movie in the area (I missed Elvis). The fair was opened to 538 ringing bells, 2000 balloons, and 10 Air Force F-102’s overhead. From the City of Seattle Archives here is an overview of the fair’s offerings.
The Federal Science Pavilion, “a virtual cathedral of science”
The fair brought back vague, childhood memories. I recalled some of the buildings; I loved the fact that the monorail was still in use. But overall, I was grateful that my morning would soon be afternoon at the nearby Queen Anne location for Taylor’s Seafood.
Perhaps I’m still a bit of a tourist curmudgeon. Eva wouldn’t have let me get away with that attitude.
The last time I saw Eva was around 1989/90 when I stayed with her in southern California. I visited as I tried to sort out my ex-husband’s infidelities and lies. I wasn’t very good company as I obsessed about events over which I had no control. But at least I was aware of my ranting, and I left so as not to wear out my welcome. This bit of consideration on my part would be one of the key events that led to my learning to fly. Little did I know how life would unfold, or that I would never see Eva again.
So the intent of this trip to Vancouver is partly in remembrance; partly, to fulfill a promise; and, as always, partly for some adventure.
And I shall do some very touristy things.
But I had counted on Eva to show me around. We were supposed to go to the market on Granville Island. We were supposed to do dim sum. This trip I’m solo. Can one even do dim sum alone?
The purpose of dim sum is to visit and browse and explore the many little tastes of the perfect little morsels of food offered during the experience. Dim sum has it’s roots in the Silk Road, where travelers were served small bite sized foots along with tea. For many Chinese, it is a family brunch tradition, although it’s morphed to be served as snacks in China, or even as dinner in some restaurants. Eva and I would have had a blast, exploring the menu and finding our favorites.
Granville Market, Vancouver
Granville Market is another landmark that Eva and I had planned to visit. She was learning to cook, so each food offered new possibilities for her boundless enthusiasm.
I remember when she spilled an entire bottle of soy sauce on a very white wall to wall carpet in her home. Aided by a bit of wine, the recipe got away from her, and portions of the carpet were now a mottled, speckled, ugly brown mess. She was desperate to hide the spot from her somewhat older, domineering German husband.
As I recall, some combination of seltzer/salt and or baking soda was finally fairly effective at soaking up the stain. But soy sauce was now on the to-be-avoided list of ingredients lest the wine get away with the recipe. And when Eva started venturing into raw fish dishes, I stepped in and became the gravlax expert for that summer, hopefully tactfully managing the possibility of food poisoning running amuck through the neighborhood.
Those days were such fun. We were all young and happy and settled (or so I thought); so sure of our paths in life. I cannot believe some of the events that transpired after those years. But memories of my big haired, lycra wearing friend have always been with me, and on this next foray to Vancouver, Eva lives on.
“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.” –Thomas Campbell
So, dim sum and Granville Market. Then we shall see what tourist fun Vancouver comes up with. Because I shall do some very touristy things.
“He was a bold man that first ate an oyster.” – Jonathan Swift
It was in a Versailles restaurant that I ate my first oyster. The year was 1960 something.
I’d watched as waiters delivered tiered plates to the table. On each plate, on each tier, was a different type of oyster.
“Have you ever had huitres?” Horst inquired. Horst was a German business associate of my father’s who lived in France.
“No.” I replied, craning to see what all the fuss was about at the neighboring table.
“Well you must try them! Garcon!” And so oysters arrived at the table and into my life. I was chronologically about eight years old, with the taste preferences of an impossible adult diva.
My first briny taste was awe inspiring. I had a new favorite food.
At the time, it was considered gracious to provide menus without prices to the guests at the table. My father, quickly seeing my ability to find the most esoteric and expensive item on the menu regardless of language or currency, gave me the price list to consider in my menu meanderings.
Not that it really influenced me. Certainly not when it came to oysters.
Oysters in Connecticut were usually fried. Big plates of succulent oysters, with lemon and tartar sauce on the water in Guilford. Or fried and stuffed into a grilled filet mignon at the Griswold Inn in Essex. It wasn’t until New Orleans that I was reunited with my favorite crustacean au naturelle.
And Rockefeller. And in pan fries, and in a hundred other creative combinations. In New Orleans, the combination of culinary creativity and oysters ROCKED! Raw, Rockefeller, fried in a po’ boy. OMG. I’ll have one of each! From In a Half Shell is a look at some New Orleanian takes on this crustacean. And I’ll be in New Orleans this fall. I may just have to revive this particular theme.
Local New Orleans lore held that you only ate oysters in months with an “R”. One studiously avoided eating oysters in months that do not contain an “R” (May through August). Perhaps. But here in Seattle, there seem to be no such cultural restrictions.
Thaiku in Seattle
May Kitchen on Vashon Island
In my quest for oysters, I have to admit I get waylaid. Guay Tiaw Tom Yum Nahm Kon (Wild cod, prawns, salmon stuffed tofu, egg, beanspouts, cilantro, scallion , egg noodles in a rich hot and sour shrimp broth) from Thaiku lured me to Thai rather than oysters. Green curry on Vashon at May Kitchen lured me to the curried side. But now I am on an oyster quest. Nothing will stop me.
There are at least 17 varieties of oysters available in the South Puget Sound Oyster Appellation of Washington State. This appellation ranges from Port Townsend to Bellingham, WA. From the Chef’s Resources, these include:
I put out an inquiry on social media and a number of places were recommended. Two of the most highly suggested were Taylor’s Shellfish Farms where their tagline is “From Tide to Table” and The Walrus and the Carpenter in Ballard:
The Walrus and the Carpenter Walked on a mile or so, And then they rested on a rock Conveniently low: And all the little Oysters stood And waited in a row.
The Walrus and The Carpenter is BEHIND this restaurant
The Walrus and the Carpenter, named after Lewis Carroll’s famous poem, is a “hot” restaurant. Located at 4743 Ballard Ave. NW, Seattle WA 98107 in Ballard, This neighborhood restaurant/bar is not far from the weekend Farmer’s Market. During the week they offer a happy hour from 4-6pm Monday through Friday.
But first you have to be able to find it.
The restaurant facing the street is NOT the Walrus and the Carpenter. You need to look for the little neon sign that leads to a nondescript corridor, that passes Barnacle (an Italian themed seafood bar owned by the same people) that finally leads to a bright, bustling seafood bar and restaurant.
The entry parallels the open kitchen and marble bar. Baskets of fresh oysters on ice tempt you immediately.
The bustling bar at the Walrus and the Carpenter
The menu is fairly straight forward. My selection of oysters du jour are Fanny Bay, Eld Inlet, Glacier, Houg Cove, Calm Cove and Totten.
Every oyster I eat is my favorite, but the Fanny Bays are really outstanding. Progressing from their delicate flavor to the slightly brinier Eld Inlet, a taste of mineralogy and brine linger with an almost tangy sweet aftertaste when combined with the shallot mignonette.
I’m in love.
I also ordered a very nice Jo Landron, Les Houx Muscadet. There is something about Muscadet and oysters that always seems to work. And this combination simply sings.
I also ordered some fried oysters which were encased in a chunky, slightly spicy crust and served with a delightful cilantro aioli. Warm, soft, crunch: perfect. But the oysters on the half shell are what really speak to my soul.
On such a soulful quest, no oyster should be ignored so my next stop is a local’s favorite, Taylor’s Shellfish Farms with locations in Pioneer Square, Capitol Hill, and Queen Anne.
Taylor’s in neon at the Queen Anne location
The Queen Anne restaurant is located on Republican Street near the Space Needle and the Performing Arts Center. The restaurant has a slightly modern, simple flair. The star is meant to be the seafood, not the decor.
The menu is limited, but unlimited in its bounty. Oysters, oysters and more oysters. There are also steamed clams, three ways:
Classic: Herb-shallot butter, sugar peas, thyme, white wine
Thai Curry: Tomato, coconut milk, ginger, jalapeño, green onion
And salads, soups and even a grilled cheese sandwich that is paired with Macrina Focaccia, Beecher’s Flagship, Provolone and a pickled red onion and arugula salad. And mussels and other seafood.
And oysters. Did I mention the oysters?
The oyster bar at the Queen Anne Taylor’s
Today’s Shucker’s Dozen included Sumo Kumo, Fat Bastard, Pacific, Shikoku and Kumamoto. What can I say other than briny bliss?
I eat my oysters simply with a shallot mignonette. A bit of lemon. No heavy chili sauces for me. I want to taste the oyster.
Taylors is a bit of a local legend. The family has been farming the waters of Puget Sound since the 1890’s. They have a combination of restaurants and retail seafood shops. They also raise and sell seafood internationally.
Here in Washington state, in every town they do business, they make it a point to give back. They’re deeply focused on their community, with an emphasis on youth and community service. And naturally, they’re deeply routed in creating a healthy, sustainable environment for seafood and much more.
The menus vary slightly by location, and of course, by season. At the Capitol Hill location, I added a Dungeness crab to my oyster repertoire. The location in Pioneer Square has more food options, including a fried oyster po’ boy. I would suggest trying them all. And even if there is an R in the month, you can still count on oysters at Taylor’s Seafood Farms.
When I think of oysters in literature, one of my favorite passages is from Anna Karenina where Levin dines with Oblonsky. The sheer joy of sharing a wonderful repast, even if with a somewhat distracted country cousin, has stayed with me all these years. But, perhaps more to the point and not requiring as much context:
“As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.
Port Townsend, Washington via Huntsville, Alabama : The Serendipity of Travel
The van was ready to go. I sat in the first row of seats. There were two other rows behind me that quickly filled with people heading for the Huntsville airport.
As people deposited their bags at the back of the van, they clamored in and found a seat on one of the three benches. After a week at a bloggers conference, I was a bit more gregarious than usual. I greeted everyone as they entered the van and asked where they are from.
Paris.
Georgia.
Port Townsend in Washington State.
“I am going to be in Seattle this summer,” I replied.
“Here is my card,” the woman replied. “I’m Kathy. I’m moving to Portugal, but I’ll be in Port Townsend for the summer.”
I filed away the card, not knowing if I’d follow through, or if our calendars would coincide.
For a while, a rendezvous was hit and miss. Kathy was in Europe. Then a death in her family. I was traveling. Then housesitting.
From Magnolia-Seattle-Bainbridge-Port Townsend
But finally we connected. And I made arrangements to visit this small town on the tip of a peninsula in the Pacific Northwest.
Small towns are interesting cultural experiences. From the outside looking in, they may look picture perfect. Port Townsend is certainly in the running for this award.
I met Kathy outside of the Quimper Mercantile Company. Then we set set off on a tour of the town, and each step was a treat and a retreat into history. Kathy has lived here for quite some time, and she knows every nook and cranny of town, as well as its history and the people that keep it all so vibrant and alive.
Quimper Mercantile Exchange
Take Quimper Mercantile Company. It’s a community owned store with over 840 community investors. The store is built on sustainability , although it’s also managed to turn a profit.
The store opened in October 2012, replacing Swain’s Outdoor which closed in early 2011. Local residents saw the need for a store that sold day to day goods not readily available without going to a distant mall. So Quimper Mercantile Company was founded. It provides basic clothes, toys, birthday presents, housewares and any number of items that when you need it, you need it now! Plus it’s an integral part of this closely woven community, many of whom choose to support the venture and shop local. And it’s expanding.
This was the starting point for our tour and our conversation, which ranged from teaching English in Spain, to the ins and outs of moving to Portugal, to traveling the world.
A stroll down the street brings forth stories and memories about Kathy and her family’s numerous entrepreneurial endeavors, which include a travel website (www.milesgeek.com), a former yarnshop and antique shop, two local bookstores run by her son, and much more. Block after block, she shares a tale of the city, it’s people and it’s future. all intertwined with a bit of her past as well.
Summers in Port Townsend are packed full of goings on, just as in Seattle. There are many highly regarded festivals and events in this small town including Fiddle Tunes, Writers Conferences, Concerts, a Jazz Festival and much more.
The Port Townsend Film Festival , held September 15, 16 and 17th this year, is truly remarkable, particularly given the size and location of Port Townsend (population: 9113). Over 300 volunteers make this annual celebration possible. The festival was founded in 1999 by four film buffs who met annually at Telluride and decided they would create a film festival closer to home. They succeeded. Seventeen years later, over 90 films are screened in seven venues. And numerous notables have graced the walkways of this particular film festival.
Bruce Dern was honored in 2012. He mentioned that his time spent in Port Townsend gave him the insight he needed to create the acclaimed character of Willy Grant.
“What did I know of small towns?” he asked, as Kathy relays the story. “The three days I spent here, submersed in this environment, allowed me to create that character.” True or not it speaks to the graciousness that Port Townsend seems to bring out in people.
The film, Nebraska, directed by Woody Allen, was released in 2013. It’s the story of a small town’s reactions to Dern’s character, Woody Grant, who wins a million dollar lottery.
Port Townsend’s claim to fame extends to some other films, like this fight scene from An Officer and A Gentleman, which was filmed in Port Townsend, outside a (former) popular bar. The bar was something of a local landmark and it lives on in this film.
Part of the bar’s unique history is that it provided rooming upstairs for many of the young people who worked there. To this day, reunions bring together people from that era to share some of their own Port Townsend histories.
The Rose Theatre
The local film festival is remarkable, not just for its history, but because it reflects the deep artistic and cinematic roots of the town. The Rose Theatre, located at 235 Taylor St., offers a curated line up of of world class theatre, including moves, plays, ballets and operas. The building opened in 1907 as a vaudeville theatre. Today, its eclectic mix of film and other performances are often accompanied by one on one question and answer sessions with people connected to the performance.
The movie line up is spectacular, and includes everything from summer time classics such as Jaws to The Hero, an official selection of the 2017 Sundance Film Festival, which caught my eye. I hadn’t heard of it. It stars Sam Elliot. Critics have said that this is a career defining role for the actor.
From IMdb:
“The legendary Sam Elliott stars as an aging actor confronting mortality in the moving new film….THE HERO is a beautiful and poignant celebration of life and the legacies we all leave behind.”
This and dozens of other films, old and new, are offered through this gem of a theatre that, among other little luxuries, offers real buttered, freshly popped popcorn. The experience of Rose Theatre is just one example of what makes Port Townsend so rich and so unique. This theatre is a remarkable experience for anyplace, and it’s one of the cultural and historic icons that makes this town so special to so many.
If you have the good fortune to find yourself in Port Townsend for a show, be sure to put it on your agenda. Or better yet, start your agenda with the Rose Theatre.
Port Townsend
Block for block, Port Townsend reveals itself through Kathy’s eyes and memories. She recalls how the beach used to be wide open at the end of town; how the new center brings new life to this part of town; stories of the former cannery at the end of a wharf (and the story of the delivery truck that fell through the wooden planking into the water); how owning two bookstores (her son’s) in town offers increased versatility for their ever expanding literary collections.
I am barely scratching the surface of this remarkable town, but I hope you’ll put it on your Pacific Northwest calendar. Even without Kathy as a guide, the charm and character of the town resonates in its shops, events, and most of all, in its people.
Returning to Seattle
Heading back to Magnolia, I pass through Bainbridge en route back to Seattle. It is a return to the modern world, Puget Sound island style. I am late for the ferry I had hoped to make; early for the next one. I sit and wait.
The morning commute to Seattle
Eventually the ferry approaches and docks. Hundreds of bicyclists, wearing brightly colored jerseys and form fitting black shorts, with knapsacks strung to their backs, complete their daily commutes. It is a world removed from Port Townsend.
Cars leave the boat, ferrying their owners for an evening at home; and as I board the ferry, the day recedes.
Except for a very warm feeling of a very special place that I will have to revisit. Thank you Kathy for sitting behind me on that van to the airport however many months ago.
Inspiration, joy & discovery through travel. Oh, did I mention with supposedly incurable cancer?
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bookstores (her son’s) in town offers increased versatility for their ever expanding literary collections.
