Tourist in your Hometown - Day 1, Part 1

It was a grey and drizzly day as I left home to drive the shortest distance I have ever have for a holiday.  The James Bay Inn, just outside the downtown core had a cheap deal for the nights of 'Be a tourist in your own Hometown', so I decided to take a mini-break and take a look around Victoria with a slightly different perspective.

The side plan was also try to use as many vouchers from my Attractions Victoria 'playbook' as possible in two days.  Because it always has to be a challenge and a project.

Walking down from the JBI (voucher 1 used), I noticed on the corner of Superior and Government how many different styles of architecture I could see.  The 'free classical' of the legislature building, the art deco bulk of the rear side of the BC museum, the wooden west coast detached buildings next door to a very modern, angular wood and concrete house. Many parts of Victoria seem to have a melange of styles and ages, and there's very little identi-kit housing in the central area.  If you want that, head to Bear Mountain....

I walked into Tourism Victoria to use Voucher 2, a half-priced transit pass.  Not that I used it today, but it's a scratch off, so we can save them up for the future.  A quick trip downstairs, and I pick up some postcards from Oceanside Gifts, and a Canadian Flag patch. Getting 15% of with Voucher 3.  I've been sending cards home to the family in the UK on semi-regular basis recently, so stocking up seemed like a good plan.

Next up, Starbucks in the Steamship terminal.  A space that once had the stalwart of hometown tourism... the Waxworks. Now home to the Robert Bateman Gallery... who I always refer to as 'Lord Bateman' after the British folk song. Voucher 4 got me half-price entry.  I was prepared to be cynical and snarky.  I left being much less cynical and appreciative of the massive output of his.  While I still think his natural art is wonderfully detailed yet lacking in life, giving a mawkish and distance feel, I found his other works much more engaging.  He did a series of more impressionistic pieces in the 60's, and one of a short path in Toronto called the 'Belt Line' really grabbed my attention.  Enough to see if I can find a print.

They also have a display of parts of a forty year collection of letters between Robert and his wife Birgit.  These are lovely objects, collages of art and ideas and objects from places they've stayed, visited and memories they've made together and apart.  They set themselves the challenge to create a letter to each other every three months, and kept it going this long.  It reminded me of the Griffin and Sabine books and images from Nick Bantock.

Still, onwards to the Legislature to use Voucher 5 - a free tour and Voucher 6 - 10% of in the gift shop.  Voucher 5 is not worth the paper it's printed on, as all tours are free here, all the time.  Thanks, Attractions Victoria for the padding.  That said, the tour itself was a good use of forty five minutes.  It combined information about the building with history of the province.  The building is officially called the BC Parliament Buildings, as that was the act that paid for it in the 1890's.  The architect, Francis Mawston Rattenbury, looks like Matt Damon with a big moustache.  He was twenty five when he designed it, on the strength of a forged resume. There are some rather nice stained glass windows, especially the one of the twelve areas of study.  That, and the four traditional jobs of BC, have sparked off a couple of ideas.  We also got a background on how the legislative assembly works, both the ceremony and the business.

Next, I walked over to Miniature World, just as I learned the news about Leonard Nimoy's passing.  So it seemed appropriate to have a minute of silence in the space section.  Which is a delightfully camp corridor with strange models of space stations and asteroids, with a voice over talking about warp tunnels and holidays in space.  Voucher 7 got me free entrance.  The best part of this museum is the large display showing the Trans-Canadian railway from coast to coast, with the  sound track telling you all about how it got built.  The rest of the displays are an assortment of items, which if you like miniatures of stuff is interesting but otherwise not so much.

Most curious is the new section, with a series of models telling the tales of Camelot, King Arthur and the Round Table.  With a very annoyingly loud soundtrack.  I have no idea why this is here. The models aren't that exciting, the buttons to animate things are laughable and the 'history' lesson is based on multiple, bastardized version of the Arthurian legends.  Still, I am sure kids love it, so that might explain exactly why it's there...

Voucher 8 was lunch at Dog-Gone-It which  serves the finest in gourmet hot dogs. I think that is the claim. My voucher got me a free bag of chips.  I ordered the Labrador Dog.  Hot dog, maple bacon, grated cheese and crispy onions with hot sauce.  Something smelled weird about my food.  Or the place.  The staff were busy and friendly in that rushed sort of way. The eating area felt like a airport lounge, designed to serve people's needs but not their wants.  My hot dog was loaded with the extras, with a soft white bun and a huge strip of bacon, piled with cheese.

I unhinged my jaw, and took a bite.  It was sustenance, but still with this odd, cake-like smell.  I realized suddenly... it was the bacon.  It smelled sweet from the maple syrup.  Sickly sweet.  Poor bacon, it died in vain.  Otherwise, the hot dog was fresh and juicy... but Mr Tube Steak will do you better from a street car.  But for $5, I didn't go too wrong.

And that was my morning... I have more from the afternoon to report, but will leave it for another day.

Perro Negro, Downtown Victoria

Perro Negro means black dog.  I think Hemingway dubbed his depression as a 'Black Dog'.  He was in love with Spain, with his books on the Spanish Civil War and Bull fighting and other manliness.  I suspect this tapas bar is not named after clinical depression or Hemingway's struggles with it.  Much more likely, the owner of Ferris' is involved and he loves his pugs...  the logo is a pug wearing a pair of bull horns.

The space is reached through the upstairs bar at Ferris', but it looks like a more direct entrance will be available sometime, given the door and name plate at 538 Yates.  They've taken over space above one of the unused shop fronts, turning the brick and wood beamed interior into a smallish tapas bar, with a cosy, warm feel.  It is good to see Victoria using space in the downtown core, and not letting the upstairs of shops go unused.  There's a depressing amount of empty space downtown now, I hope a trend that gets reversed, else more people will head to the malls, leaving the vibrancy of Victoria's centre to fade.  Which is not good for locals or tourists.

So good on Ferris' to take on a new project, and add to the series of relaxed dining spaces it runs.  Everything on the menu is on shareable plates. The drink menu is long on wine and cocktails, a little short on the beer but has a great non-alcoholic section.  There's seating for about 30-40 people, with some bar seating and lots of decent sized tables for two or four, big enough to get the food spread around, small enough so you can lean in and talk.  There's a surround sound system playing flamenco, loud enough to cover up the ambient noise from the other diners, but quiet enough to hear your friends.

I started with a virgin caesar, sevred with a fresh shucked oyster, a single muscle, and a tasty green bean (the word 'shuck' is a wonderful one, after ;juggernaut', it might be my favourite).  The fresh oyster was juicy and briny joy, spiced with some hot sauce and a bit of horse radish. The caesar itself was hot, which I liked though was a bit of a shock on the first slurp.  Nice starter, and I prefer it served this way than adulterated with vodka.

We then got some serious business of tapas ordering.  I don't have notes on every single item, but among the memorable items there was a fantastic beef short rib 'estofado de carne'.  The rib was slow cooked to fall apart tenderness, offering up a huge, rich flavour. The sauce has olives and orange rind in it, which richens the flavour, and sharpens it up.  And you might get lucky to eat an olive in the gravy, with the very different mouth-feel.  Well worth sharing, even though the half portion is $10, and it's a small half.

The croquette of the day was oozey cheese wrapped with a spiced prosciutto, breaded and fried. Very rich, and I wanted more.  The dish comes with just three thumb sized torpedoes though.  A little snack with the wine and beer, I guess.

We also tried the quince and quail special. My good friend tells me she hates food which starts with a Q. This didn't change her mind.  The quail was served cold, which let the fat congeal and gave it a feeling of sucking a half defrosted raw chicken leg.  The quince didn't really complement the poultry, and the salad served with it go soaked in the meat juices, which really was not pleasant.  I was not a fan.

That was a miss, but the 'papas bravas' were excellent.  Cubes of potatoes, served on a tomato sauce base with a thick garlic sauce on top.  Plain, and simple, they went well with the other food and the more complex cocktails my friends were drinking.  I had moved onto a Moroccan Mint Iced Tea by now, and that was pretty good, though served with a little too much ice, so it lost some of the sweet, sharp flavour by the bottom of the glass.

There was also some baked oyster shared.  This didn't convince me to like baked oysters any more than I did already.  Which is not very much at all.  Nothing wrong with the dish, it was all cooked well, but it's a dish I've had exactly once (made by worked friends) that I've enjoyed.  Not enough crunch in there, I think.  We also shared some chocolate pate served on tiny toasts.  A rich, smooth ganache.  It went down a treat even in the middle of more savoury fare.

All-in-all, it's a good experience, with a good mix of food, great service and nice atmosphere.  Portions are a little small for the prices, I felt. However, it was filling up as when got there at 5.30, and by the time we left, it was humming along.  As was Upstairs at Ferris'.  A new spot to hit up for a small group of good friends, or a casual date night for foodies.  Which means I will be taking the lovely Brunette of my Acquaintance soon....

Raymond's, Saanich

I like to think I have a small reputation among my friends for knowing places to eat and drink.  Though the flak they have given me for the 'unfair' 4 Mile House review says they aren't frightened to tell me my opinions are sometimes very, very wrong. I'm now going to add to the evidence that I don't know what I am talking about by making a confession:

Raymond's is not very good, and yet I have eaten there on several occasions.  

I always do it on my own, and always having regrets a hour or so afterwards.  My only thought process when I drive by is I can get food quickly, and it really isn't -that- bad.  And every time I realize, it really is that bad. And more over, its getting more and more overpriced for mediocre food.

I hope by pushing out this review, the world will know my shame, and I will stop eating there, and find a better place when the buffet craving strikes me on the way downtown.  

Raymond's is a Chinese Buffer in the small strip mall at Cloverdale and Blanshard, opposite the Accent Inn. You can see it on from the highway, sitting there next to the Jenny Craig centre. It advertises a buffet and dim-sun.  I've never seen Dim-Sun served.  I have seen people order off a menu.  I have never been offered one, but I've never asked either.

I walk in, and take a seat on a small dining room chair, a nice white table cloth and single fork.  I see the central buffet bar, stacks of plates, and with no further waiting, head over.  The buffet area is tiled, and always feels slippery.  This should have be a clue.  But despite it being offered, I go ahead and take a good pile of fried rice with pork, a spoonful of salt-and-pepper salmon, some ginger beef and garlic pork.  And maybe a serving of vegetables.  Which are primarily bok choy leaves in a sauce that is very watery, but tastes of the tears.  Everything, they say in large labels, has MSG in it.  I would guess the sauce is actually just water, MSG and maybe a lemon.  

I carefully step back to my table, and the waiter offers me something to drink.  I get Chinese tea.  The Chinese tea here is good. I can't fault it.  Maybe I have developed an addiction to it, and that's why I go back again and again?

The rice is heavy on a sour spiced flavour, that seems to be in almost everything here. It's not unpleasant, exactly. It just lurks and hangs around for a good while afterwards.  If you want to keep tasting your food afterwards, this is just the place for you.  The salmon is crispy fried in the skin.  There's a chilli flakes on the thin batter that covers it.  It is a complete waste of salmon.  It feeds you, but the poor fish could have been jerked or candied.  Or treated with a little more care than the hard fried chunk dished up here for gluttons like me.

The ginger beef is better, though lots of expense is spared on the cuts of beef.  The gingery sauce is unctuous, sticky, slightly sweet and not huge on the ginger flavour.  It sort of covers the food in a thick film, protecting it from whatever harm the chef imagines it might come to out there in the wilds of the buffet land.  The garlic pork is a ear sized slice of pork, heavily battered and fried in the same grease as everything else.  There's that sour, spiced flavour again. Just in case you missed it.  Garlic might have been used too, but it's probably hiding with the ginger, to be used sparingly.  The pork used here is great if you are trying to up your fat intake. It satiates the appetite.  Sprinkle on some of the soy sauce, and it goes down fine.  The soy sauce, like the chinese tea, is pretty good.  Plenty of umami flavour, a slight sharpness to the saltiness.

Perhaps I should just work out what brand of tea and soy sauce they use and save myself.

I decide after all that I will try seconds.  It's a buffet.  That why I go to the buffet, to over consume.  My shame for eating here again needs to be assuaged, and the way I deal with this is to eat more.  The cycle continues, and needing my fix, I take some chicken balls, a piece of fried chicken and the shanghai noodles.

The shanghai noodles are thick, rubbery strings with onion and a coating of something that looks like a thin motor oil and tastes the same as everything else that isn't in the vegetable sauce.  That sauce is now feeling like a refreshing change.  The chicken balls are tough on the inside, and battered in a way that makes the batter crumble into powder when you bite in.  It reminds me of the flavour and mouth feel of the one time I ate gluten-free pizza base.  Which was made of dough.

The fried chicken is a trap.  First, the buffet centre is kept hot by a direct thermal jet from seven leagues under Victoria.  This is directed around the food and onto any metal serving spoon used for the chicken.  You might get away with just a painful sting, but I'm sure that at least one person a day will be getting first degree burns from the handle. 

The second part of the trap is the chicken itself.  They slice it into chunks the size of a small chocolate bar, straight from the fried carcass.  It doesn't matter what bones were in there, it's chop-chop-chop.  So the next task is to eat the morsel without stabbing yourself in the mouth with a splinter of bone. The meat you do get is typical fried chicken, crispy skinned and still moist inside.  I love fried chicken, and this isn't bad, if you can eat it with out lacerations.  It's not dried out, it still tastes like chicken, and the grease is possibly fresh.  I'd do better to go to Hanks or Pig, mind. 

By now, I'm full up, which was the main aim of coming in here.  So I head off to pay at the cashier's counter.  I fork over $20 and get no change.  I question my life choices, for the fifth time in thirty minutes.  

But it is a meal that keeps on giving. This time it was just the salmon sitting uneasily on my stomach.  In times past, my gut has sent my brain messages that though it was indeed full, it was not comfortably so, and the contents were not well regarded down there.  My brain however filtered out most of that message and merely stored the information 'Raymonds made the stomach full fast, yay!'.

And thus I keep the cycle going. Every few months I drive by thinking about where to eat, and turn off, past the Red Robin, down the ramp and park in front of Raymonds. Like a good little automaton, enticed by the '#1 Buffet in Victoria' sign.  

Except now, my dear friends and readers, by admitting I have a problem, I hope to end it.  If I am going to eat fast food, I can find better choices, and if I want a chinese food fix, there's better places a short drive away.  

I apologize to everyone that may have been misled in thinking I know anything about eating out.  Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.  Fool me ten times, I have no shame left.

La Collina Fine European Bakery, Saanich

It was a wind and rain storm, which meant of course I had agreed to go running with Andrea.  She decided that I would make a good wind break, and she had just run 10km to meet me, so I guess I could step up.  We managed to avoid the worst of the rain, returning home after a couple of laps Cedar Hill Golf course just before the heavens opened.  I really like the golf course for a good solid urban trail run... lots of hard hills to build up strength and some nice level stretches to just bumble along and thing about the world before the next hard part.

Anyway's, though I had avoided the rain, I hadn't avoided the wrath of Andrea. There was no carbs in the house, so we went on a food hunt.  First, De Dutch (for some reason).  There was a big queue.  Next, The Monkey Tree. Not yet open.  Finally, as the heavens threatened to wash away Mount Douglas, and Andrea's carb deprived mind was beginning to lose it, La Collina Bakery.

This is a small cafe next to the Root Cellar, serving a small breakfast menu and an array of pastries and bread. I grabbed an apple muffin along with a two egg and bacon breakfast plate and a coffee. The muffin filled up my glucose stores (honest) and the coffee did something to calm down Andrea's rage, which by now was threatening the western world with annihilation via tweets.  I am not sure how that would have worked, but as it's two weeks later and we are all still here, we didn't have to find out.

The breakfast plate arrived, and had some of the finest hash browns I've had in town. Not a grated patty, which I love and would rave about for hours to my bored friends. But small strips fried and bashed together into a mashed up mess.  Crispy, browned and smashed up as well.

The eggs were done fine on my plate, over easy with a runny yolk, puddling into the mashed up tatters.  Andrea ordered before me, so her eggs were on the burner just a little longer, and they had solidified a little in the centre, more Over Medium, I suppose.  The bacon was all crispy and crackling and piggy goodness.  The toast was pre buttered, but dry and a bit tasteless for wholemeal.  It all worked out and got our energy back for the 10 yard dash back through the rain to the car.

A pretty good spot for emergency fast breakfast.