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.

Varsha Sips and Nosh House, Downtown Victoria

The word nosh comes from the Yiddish word 'nashn' which in turned comes from Middle German 'naschen' meaning to nibble.   Which makes it a fine word to use for a place that's not exactly a restaurant, and not really a bar, and certainly not a fast food joint.  I only checked the etymology, as I wondered if it came from India, as Varsha serves Indian style comfort food.  But nope, it's the Dodd family's move into dining.  And if they are as successful at this as moving furniture and lumber, it'll be around for a long while.

For those who don't know Victoria, Gordi Dodd is local legend for his cheap-o adverts for his home furnishings store, as well as his good prices and services.  My latest bed and sofa were brought there, and I've slept well on both.

The restaurant takes over the corner that was home to Nando's (spicy roasted chicken, which I love, and everyone else seems to think is better done else where) and before that a conveyor Sushi place, where the conveyor was a large scale train-set.

Varsha has a much better set up, with a series of small booths around the windows, bench seating for slightly bigger groups and set of tables one one side for parties.  It's all clean lines, square edges, and certainly not the old British curry house.  No flock wallpaper.  It's modern, yet still relaxed with the bright prints and fabrics.

The menu is not heavy on lists and lists of curries and meats and variations.  It's doing comfort and quick plates with a Indian twist, not a full blown 3 course extravaganza.  The stand out is the Masala fries.  Served as poutine, where the gravy is butter chicken sauce, this is a fantastic combination.  Though I would love to try it with paneer rather than curds. The spicy dust all over the fries makes them incredibly moreish, with a got crisp bite to the potato.  Coupled with the gooey, creamy mess that the curds and sauce merge into, and you've got a winner.  And I ate them with my friend who knows her poutine, and she ordered it many times.

Elsewhere, there's burgers, wraps and tacos. I tried the fish tacos once, and the tandoori grilled fish was great, and the chef knows how to prep seafood it seems.  The crispy, pakora fried one was a mess of flavours and textures, and a real pain to eat.  My second visit, I tried the coconut fish curry.  This was good to, with a subtle spice to the dish, flakey white meat in the sauce, tender and tasty.  I spiced it up with Varsha's home brand chutney, which is nice enough, but not sure worth the extra dollar to order.  This dish came with a light naan bread and some fluffy white rice, and filled me up.  A cosy, happy feeling inside.

I got my meal with chai tea, which was also well balanced between the cardamom and other spices.  A steaming mug of this will set lots of things right on a cold evening.  I need to remember this place on the rotation of easy dinners to do down town.  I like the setting, I like the service and I like the unfussy, but original combinations on the menu.

White Spot, Victoria Airport

Apparently, if I've had a beer, I write better.  This seems unlikely, but lets see if I have hit my Ballmer peak.  Just watched the the NFL conference games with a beer or two at the Garrick's head, and I think the Disruption IPA from Category 12 has hit the spot very nicely indeed.

Or I'm about to phone it in.  I am reviewing White Spot after all.  

A chain of BC restaurants, which you can find pretty much in every town in the province.  They push the comfort food angle, with specials evoking Tuscany, top-end chefs, local ingredients and fresh produce.  But to me, they are a sit-down burger joint.  The rest is window dressing.

I've tried the pasta, and while I am sure their Red Seal chefs take some pride in their work, I could have passed the ribbons through a sieve with very little effort.  It was a gloopy, starchy mess.  Since then, I've avoided anything there that isn't between two slices of bread.

Victoria airport is small and modern, and houses two coffee kiosks and a White Spot ground side.  So, when dropping of my friend for a trip out east, we grabbed an evening meal before they took of on the last flight out of the city. Air side you do now have the option of a Spinnaker's franchise bar, which I have used and can recommend.

Seated in a large, padded booth, in an open plan restaurant, we had a view of the departure board and the TVs, tuned to the sports highlights on a never ending loop.  Our server bounced over and brought out two fresh glasses of iced water with asking, present two menu's... the standard thick tome and the two page Comfort Food special.  I read through, thinking about go off plan, but recalling the pasta, I went for the burger. My friend ordered the same, wanting half-salad and half fries, which they don't do.  But they do bottomless fries, so I ordered them.

The burgers came out fast and hot, and immediately delivered with a second plate of fries. I am sure that had something to do with the place being due to close not long after we sat down, but nice touch.  The burger was good... they char up the bottoms of the patties good, adding in lots of flavours from the crispy meat bits, without losing too much of the juice from the beef.   I am also quite partial to the special sauce... slightly tangy, slightly creamy (mayo and tomato ketchup probably figure highly in the mix).  While not the greatest burger, it's a good one.

The fries were fries.  A little soft, but not soggy.  Sort of just a little... wilted?  Or perhaps out too long?  Still, I polished of my serving and some of the second plate.  So that worked out.

It's burger.  It's a chain restaurant.  What they do as a main stock in trade they do competently well.  What more can I say?

Saltspring Island trip, Christmas 2014

I've been to Salt Spring Island more times in 2014 than I've been to Vancouver.  Once with friends, once with my mum, and now once with the Brunette (the one of my Acquaintance and often mentioned as being gorgeous).

We headed over after I found a good deal from the Salt Spring Harbour House.  It was in that Christmas to New Year limbo, my favourite time of the year, if I am off work. There's no commitments, nothing planned, everything is quiet and you can relax a little.  If you are in London around then, its the best time to see the place without too many people.

The hotel was fine.  We took the non-scenic view room overlooking a corner of a farm paddock and the air conditioning units on the roof of the backside.  It was large room with high windows and lots of pine.  And a paint job that seemed to be half covering some of the pine beams.  The room had two Murphy beds, so I am guessing it is used as a break out room for meetings when not having oiks like me sleeping there (the Brunette is not an oik, just to be clear, just me).  No table, so no board games. Because that's what I like to do in hotel rooms... play board games.

I had hoped to get a chance to tour the farm as well too, you know, as part of my continued understanding of where my grub comes from, but that didn't happen as a long lie in was more important for me in the morning.  As sadly, dear readers, I got a cold.  Everyone feel sorry for me now, please.

Thanks.

Still, I had a decent nights sleep despite my cold and woke up plenty rested.  I'd stay there again if I got the same deal.  I wouldn't pay high season rates, which I suspect probably means I won't be staying on Saltspring during the high season very often.

Before the hotel stay, we had a wander around Ganges.  First order of business was food, and from the choices on one side of Gracepoint Park (nothing to do with the TV show) we went to the Saltspring Wok Bar.  A small space with a bar, and prep area for the chef.  Who was in residence and happy to tell us all about the daily specials (something laden with peanuts), and his former career as a heavy duty mechanic on VIA Rail.



The food was great, big salty-savoury noodles covered in a Green Thai chilli curry with chicken.  Creamy, with some heat and a lovely combination of flavours.  The Brunette had the same thing with smoked tofu, something he was happy to let us try before eating.  She's not a tofu lover, but she dug his smoked tofu (locally smoked, which doesn't have the same cachet as locally smoked salmon).  This was all eaten up happily in The Local, a small corner of the liquor store dedicated to serving beer and letting people bring in food from the row of small eateries.  Great idea, and you also get a view of the harbour. There is a patio for the summer, but we kept well inside.

We then hit up all the craft and independent shops that were open, including Black Sheep Books and Fever Tree design.  The former, I think I have mentioned before, is an awesome maze of new and used books. The later sells wholesome clothing and interior design pieces, and was being run by Tarquin, an Aussie who has travelled far and wide.  Had a good chat with him before moving onwards.

For the evening libations, we stopped in at Moby's Pub for a pint. Seems to be the place for craft beers in town, and I had a very satisfying pint of Russell's Blood Alley bitter.  Russell's every day draft beers are terrible, cheap and have the flavour that you'd expect by wringing out a damp bar towel after hosing down the bar top on a Friday night rush.  Russell's premium line makes great, flavourful brews well worth finding and spending a little time with.  Go figure.  I had originally ordered the Mile High Mountain Ale from Vancouver Island.  Described as a American Red Ale, it was pretty damn good, but I swapped with the Brunette who preferred it to the hoppier Blood Alley.  She's insisted I mention this beer as it was 'fantastic'.

I also ran into my old next door neighbour from Victoria, now serving behind the bar.  He lived in the basement of his parent's house when I first got here, while I lived in the much bigger helper suite. Very odd to run into him, but was nice to be recognized after five years... it took me a second to work out who it was, but he knew me straight away.    Nice locals style pub, I would certainly drink there again.

We then took a cold, dark walk down to the Salt Spring Inn.  The Inn has a medium sized dining room, overlooking the main core of Ganges.  It's an open space with high backed booths but with large picture windows.  This gives it a cosy feel but not claustrophobic.  You can shuffle into a booth with your date, gossip about the day but still part of the general dining crowd.



I ordered up a lasagne, despite there being a tonne of options I could have chosen (burgers, steak, jambalaya) while the Brunette went for Halibut tacos.  The lasagne was awesome. Deep filled, lots of juicy sauce and crisp, gooey cheese on top.  It was grilled to finish it and that made it piping hot.  I was accused of 'Dyson'-ing it up, which I claim was an unfair description of someone enjoying their food.  The Brunette said the tacos were delightful, served with a crisp green salad.  The fish was well cooked, kept moist and flakey, not a dried out mess.

We finished with dessert.  The cream cheese iced carrot cake I had was expertly made.  Moist, light and tasting of sweet grilled carrots, while the icing had sharpness to it that offset the cake.  The 'Death by Chocolate' my date had was nibbled at and savoured.  It had a dark, rich ganache coupled with a dark, dark cake. I was allowed a small morsel, and I have to concur, it was an awesome, intense dish.  I couldn't have eaten a whole portion myself, preferring my carrot cake. But others would disagree.

We paid, said hello to the restaurant's very friendly, old cat and toddled back to the hotel, happy and full.  And I was about ready for a NyQuil and a long, long sleep.