The Best classy Restaurants in Vancouver

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.

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.