Billing itself as “Nuevo Latino” cuisine, Cobre takes a step away from the stereotypes traditionally associated with Mexican cuisine – giant margaritas, sombreros, elbow-to-elbow seating and artery-clogging amounts of cheese. Not that a rib-sticking enchilada with a huge dollop of sour cream can ever be a bad thing, but Cobre isn’t the place to hit up for a one-plate chow-down. A cursory glance at the decor sums up Cobre’s design and culinary aesthetic: a restrained juxtaposition between the rough coziness of brick walls and the edgy warmth of copper ceilings. Just enough of too much to be good for you.

I’ll lay my cards on the table now: I love tapas bars, but they really stress me out. Deciding what to order is always a timely reminder about the inefficiency of the democratic system. When the plates finally arrive, there usually isn’t enough to go around, and so us hungry diners politely sit and stare at the last bit of meat on the plate, hollow-cheeked and gaunt. Cobre solves this dilemma with a simple rule: four people to a plate, maximum. The other strategy: make the food filling and the portions perfect.

The star of dish of the night was the pork belly: flavourful, comforting and thrillingly tasty. The alternately silky and robust textures of the meat were brought out with expert cooking, and the luscious experience of the pork was highlighted by a subtle chipotle-tamarind glaze. Cobre’s other diner favourite, jerk-spiced diver scallops, didn’t deliver the same punch. Flavour was lacking, although the scallops themselves were tender and nicely seared. However, the duck breast, sliced and served over risotto, made the consensus clear: Cobre knows how to cook meat. Found inside each puddle of disappointing, goopy risotto was a piece of duck crackling (to everybody’s delight). Almost redeemed. A personal favourite of mine was the flat iron steak on buttermilk mash. Coarse salt, sprinkled last-minute over three small strips of beef, delivered a crunch and a bite that made me appreciate the saying that less is sometimes more. The sablefish dish was supremely “meh.” Crumbled like an afterthought over bready pieces of tostada, the fish’s delicate, almost quivering texture and subtle flavour were undermined by its preparation and accompaniments. The only real miss of the night was the Peruvian tacu tacu, a vegetarian dish which layered goat cheese, roasted eggplant, green beans and a rice cake (the tacu tacu) over a helping of roasted garlic. While the eggplant itself was delicious and the green beans refreshingly crunchy, the tacu tacu was dry and flavourless – something you’d eat if you were really hungry and just wanted something to fill your stomach so you could quit complaining to your friends.

Dessert was caramel with whipped cream, berries, and churros. If there’s a name for it, it was forgotten amidst the ecstasy of that perfect bite: fluffy, rich caramel, light whip, and tart raspberry all rolled into one sexy, delicious mass.

Throughout the night, I was impressed with how quickly the food came, how conveniently the food was portioned, and how well thought-out each dish was – each was accompanied by a starchy staple to ensure you didn’t leave the restaurant with an empty stomach. In a city where the tapas lounge has become a bit of a cliché, Cobre offers a sophisticated, intelligent, dining experience.

For more photos from Cobre, visit the Flickr set.

If there’s a default food for me (and many Vancouverites) – it’s sushi. Chinese-owned Japanese restaurants are a dime a dozen, found in every corner of the GVRD, but there are a small handful that stand above the rest; Nikkyu is one of them.

From the outside, Nikkyu is rather unassuming, and that doesn’t change past the doors either. Wooden tables and chairs are clustered tightly in the small dining hall, allowing for easy (though slightly public) conversations and access to the attentive staff.

The food, like the restaurant itself, is a simple affair, but an enjoyable one. Withing minutes of ordering, dishes started rolling in. While each entree was presented well, it was the tuna dishes that stood out the most from common fare. The soft textures of the negitoro sashimi ($1/pc) melted in my mouth, while the green onions in the negitoro and spicy tuna rolls ($3.85) gave a nice kick to the staple. The spider ($9.50) and rainbow rolls ($8.50), while competent, were a bit too familiar; I’d had the same formula elsewhere.

If you’re looking for an authentic or innovative Japanese experience, Nikkyu isn’t your place, but if you’re with a small group looking for familiar flavours, fresh tuna, and quality service, I recommend it.

For more photos from Nikkyu, visit the Flickr set.

Lately, my appetite hasn’t been up to par, but if there’s one place I’ve been craving, it’s Chambar. You wouldn’t expect to find such a gem on the outskirts of Chinatown, but location doesn’t stop Chambar from being what it is: a charming restaurant with warm service and mouth-watering Belgian cuisine.

As a dinner-only location, Chambar is always bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers and candlelight. The walls are lined with tables for two, with only a few spots for larger groups. Dapper servers are always hurrying about, but to date, have been courteous and attentive without fail. The atmosphere is far from casual, but it’s hard not to feel at home.

Much like the atmosphere, the food has a definite sophistication, but there’s comfort in the delivery; it’s probably the fries. Arriving with each of my entrees has been a delectable side of pommes frites, served with what I suspect to be a smoked-garlic tartar sauce. I hate to say it, but oftentimes, I find myself picking at the fries more than the main course – much like this review.

Though my hand reaches for fries more often than my fork, that’s not to say the entrees don’t hold their own. If you love mussels, the Kwak ($10), an amber beer with bitter-orange overtones, is a curious entry. Each bottle is served in a flared glass with a rounded bottom, and held by a wooden stand. Supposedly, inventor Pauwel Kwak designed the apparatus for coachmen. So much for driving sober.

If you have a taste for Belgian cuisine (or mussels for that matter), you owe it to yourself to visit Chambar. Just be sure to make early reservations; they’re booked most nights.

In 2007, serial restaurateur Emad Yacoub, president and owner of the Glowbal group, shook up the Alberni strip with the $1.7 million Italian Kitchen. This July, Yacoub brought out even bigger fish to play. Weighing in at at a bank-breaking $3.3 million, Glowbal’s seafood star, Coast, makes a huge splash on Alberni Street.

From the entrance, Coast looks like your typical high-end patio, but its true grandeur lies inside. Downstairs, the mosaic-tiled floors bustled with hosts ferrying seafood to and from the open kitchen. Crowning the room was a circular bar surrounding a tiered island seafood on ice and liquors. On the upper floor, bottles of wine seemed to line every wall. Spinning curtains and mirrored walls divided dining parties from each other, each section illuminated by soft golden lighting.

Much like the venue, the menu was also grand. Seafood aficionados would be hard pressed to choose; from classic chowders to sushi, if it lives in the sea, it was on the menu. At the recommendation of our waiter, we settled for buttermilk-battered calamari ($12), the seared halibut ($25), and the dover sole ($42); rich and subtle seemed to be the chef’s speciality – traits consistent across all three dishes.

Starting with the calamari, we were treated to large squared chunks of premium squid, flash fried to melt in our mouths. Complimented with a side of smoked-garlic aioli, the pub favourite was refined to pair with the rest of the meal nicely.

Being a seafood novice, I’m a little cautious in my verdicts, but I couldn’t help but feel a little underwhelmed with the entrées. Both dishes were presented elegantly (in particular, the dover, which was sliced right at the table), but there was little else truly memorable except their texture – that rich, melt-in-your-mouth quality that the calamari shared as well. That being said, the plates were still good – they just didn’t blow me out of the water.

Coast is a gorgeous venue, one that I will revisit again and again to entertain, but based on today, I think my next visit will be for drinks and smaller plates.

Main Street foodies, you’re in for a treat; the former owners of Tofino’s critically acclaimed RainCoast Cafe have moved into your neighbourhood, bringing their same signature Pan-American cuisine but with a chic new look. Despite the sweltering heat (that had other restaurants shuttered), Latitude’s stellar service, intimate atmosphere, and trademark eats were a great experience from top to bottom.

First up was an avocado and mango salad ($9) on baby arugula, garnished with spiced pepitas, sweet onion, toasted cumin, vinaigrette and a slice of fried panela cheese on the side to finish. Though it reads busy, it was clear that a lot of love was put into balancing the salad; the mix of mellow, sweet, sour, and spicy flavours played incredibly well together.

The second and final dish was a special: a smoked black cod and halibut cake ($13), crowned with samphire (sea asparagus) and seated on roasted corn and heirloom tomato salsa. At this point, the heat was getting to me and I had lost my sense of taste, but I will say the presentation was gorgeous. The addition of samphire was clever and very much appreciated, adding an oceanic flavour to the seafood dish.

Even in record-breaking heat, Latitude managed to impress. Many thanks to our lovely waitress who kept our glasses full and introduced me to a new favourite BC lager, Dead Frog. If you’re looking for an intimate place to dine on Main with a modern flair and a Pan-American flavour, I know no better.

On initial inspection, Gorilla Food seems more like a cozy hobbit hole than a restaurant. Situated underground beside a Richards Street sidewalk (you have to saunter down a flight of stairs before you reach the doors), Gorilla Food is easy to miss, a secret lair tucked away while the rest of bustling Vancouver passes by above. Further inspection of the interior only adds to the “cozy hobbit hole” impression. For instance, each side of the restaurant’s walls is painted with a different colour. The walls themselves are adorned by colourful paintings of local artist Simon Haiduk. There are only five people working in the open-space kitchen. Their hours only run from 11 am to 5 pm. And the counter has a handwritten sign: “Cash only please.” I found all these details to be charming, even provincial.

But beneath the undeniably bohemian atmosphere, Gorilla Food carries a very weighty food philosophy: not only does the restaurant have an organic, local, and vegan foundation, but more significantly it follows the tenets of the raw food movement. Yes, you read that right. Raw. All the items in the menu are not “cooked”– at least not in the traditional sense. Gorilla Food owner and chef Aaron Ash explains that raw unprocessed plant-based foods are more nutritionally condense because the enzymes and vitamins remain intact when not heated to such high degrees.

Okay, so the menu may satisfy the most fastidious of health nuts, but my primary question is, how does it fare flavour-wise?

To answer this question, I started off with some Thai Wraps (three rolls for $5). These wraps are composed of a delicate and chewy filling of sunflower seeds, sesame, and coleslaw rolled inside three crisp, green collard leaves. But the best part is the condiment that complemented the entrée– a mound of sesame-topped ginger raisin chutney. The ginger raisin combination was just the right blend of sweetness and spiciness, adding a necessary tanginess to the leafy wraps. I jokingly asked if they sold bottles of the ginger raisin chutney, and unfortunately, they don’t.

The next entree to arrive was the Green Taco ($6.50). Instead of having the traditional taco shell, a romaine lettuce leaf was the perfect substitute, topped by layers of spicy chili walnut pâté, fresh guacamole, and savoury salsa. I was quite impressed by the innovation, particularly of the pâté, with its walnuts and pine nuts providing the savoury essence and chunky texture that’s expected of a taco filling.

The house favourite happens to be the Veggie Burger (two patties for $7.50), as almost every other patron in Gorilla Food was asking for this entrée. Again, instead of buns, this dish came with the lettuce leaf substitute, but the patties were the real surprise. While most veggie patties are composed of tofu or soybean of some variation, Gorilla Food’s patties are made up of compacted walnuts, hemp seeds, and sunflower seeds– none of which need to be cooked, unlike tofu. The guacamole and a ginger tomato sauce on top of the patties added zest to the equation. Almost like an afterthought, slices of tomato and cucumber were added as traditional toppings, though this veggie burger is certainly leagues beyond your ordinary Big Mac!

The only misstep for me in this entire meal was the T&T Gorilla Green Seasonal Salad ($5.50). This salad comes with a choice of dressing: citrus walnut cilantro, ginger avocado, and lemon flax herb (which I chose). On its own, the salad was delightfully light and refreshing, comprising mostly of spinach and daintily diced cucumbers and tomatoes.  On its own, I would say that this is one of the better salads I’ve ever had. On the other hand, in a menu comprising of fresh, raw vegetables in every dish, the salad was a little redundant, if only because it was also the least surprising.

Nevermind the salad–what’s for dessert? Gorilla Foods offer many healthy sweets and cookies, but they also offer varying cakes and pies daily. I chose a slice of the Cacao Hempseed Pie ($6). The pie comprised of a chewy shredded coconut and chopped walnut crust, balanced out by the smooth texture of the chocolate cream. Perhaps it’s because I’m a dessert fiend, but the pie was my absolute favourite, so much so that I finished the huge slice quite quickly even though I was already absolutely stuffed from all the other entrées.

Altogether, I found Gorilla Food to be very impressive–from its unpretentious comfy atmosphere to the innovative menu. In the future, I’d love to pop by the restaurant just to see what new culinary inventions they have come up with, or even just to grab one of their healthy and delicious smoothies and pizza slices to go. Being the only raw food restaurant in town might make Gorilla Food something of a curiosity, but it certainly fills in its particular niche in the Vancouver food scene very well.

Circa Restaurant & Lounge aimed to surpass expectations by leeks and bounds. And man, were there ever a lot of leeks.

Circa is located at 1050 Granville Street and lies in the heart of Vancouver’s downtown core. With a 192-person capacity and 6,500 square feet, it’s a versatile space sporting everything from a fully functional bar, to private dining rooms and upstairs seating, to widescreen HDTVs to watch the game from. With plenty of hidden lighting also hinting at nightclub capabilities, one almost wonders if Circa is trying to do too much with one space.

Of the hors d’oeuvres we were served, the duck and onion tart stood out significantly. Pleasantly fatty without being cloying and balanced finely with caramelized onions, it’s dishes like these that the word umami was invented for. The vichyssoise also deserves an honourable mention, appropriately creamy with only a hint of leek, and strong broth-like flavours that bring comfort food to mind. However, the cured salmon appetizer was lacklustre, allowing the large chunk of leek the salmon rested on to overpower the delicate flavours in the tarragon mayonnaise and salmon itself.

Regardless, it’s exciting to see such a spacious and versatile venue open up in Vancouver, and we look forward to what they have to offer when they open for regular service.

For more photos of Circa Restaurant and Lounge, visit us on Flickr.

It’s been a long time coming, but ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Yum! Vancouver, the blog dedicated to reviewing the best food in Vancouver.

With me on the inaugural meal was the ever-talented Ami Sanyal from Ami Sanyal Photography. Looking for some post-photo grub, we stopped at the large sign reading “the best sushi in Kerrisdale” centred atop Shota’s doors.

Inside, we found a warm dining hall with strong nods to traditional Japanese decor. Greeted curtly, we were guided to the back of the room to a private section divided from the main by fusuma.

The menu, though a little pricey, promised a wide range of Japanese favourites, as well as a handful of delicacies exclusive to Shota, such as the Yew Street Roll (tamago, unagi and cucumber topped with avocado and sesame). Following the recommendation of our waitress, I settled for the restaurant-favourite Dragon Roll and one of the daily specials, the BC Tower.

The Dragon Roll (seven pieces for $10.95) was the first to arrive; the blend of prawn tempura and cucumber topped with grilled eel, avocado, masago and lightly drizzled unagi sauce meshed incredibly well together. The mellow flavours from the tempura and the avocado were lifted by sweet and salty accents from the garnish. Extremely well balanced and understandably one of the more popular dishes at Shota.

The BC Tower (two pieces for $4.95) was the more curious of the two entrees, but shared similarities to the Dragon Roll in both taste and quality. At the centre of each tower was an ultra-rich slice of fried salmon skin rolled with fresh cucumber, organic baby greens and avocado. To top it off, tobiko, unagi sauce, and mayonaise were swirled on the dish and each tower was crowned with a plume of katsuobushi. A delectable concoction; again incredibly well-balanced, with salty and sweet undertones lifting the more dominant mellow flavours.

In closing, it was an honour to kick off this blog at Shota Sushi & Grill. Though a bit on the expensive side, I left Shota sated and eager to return. With premium ingredients, gorgeous presentation, and a taste to match, I’d be hard pressed not to recommend this restaurant. A special thank you to Maggie Hon, Shota’s director, for helping me clear up the ingredients in the BC Tower for this review; quick and kind, if Maggie’s in the room, I’m confident your experience will be that much better.