If You Want a Rainbow, You've Gotta Put up with the Rain

Traveling to the Pacific Northwest and expecting it not to rain is like going to a steak house and hoping they don't serve red meat. So while we hoped for good weather for our entire trip, we knew that this wasn't the most realistic of desires.

In the end, our 8 day trip to Whistler and Vancouver resulted in only one and a half days of rain. Any more than that and it might have bummed us out, but it was just the right amount to add to the ambiance of being in the Pacific Northwest.







In fact, a trip to North Vancouver's Capilano Suspension Bridge is almost more enjoyable in the rain. It would feel unauthentic to visit a rain forest with the sun out and the temperature outside a balmy 90 degrees. Instead, we happily donned our rain jackets and umbrellas to admire the natural beauty of the coastal temperate rain forest.









Walking around this lush, green area in the rain almost gave the sense of being in an enchanted fairy tale forest. It was as if at any moment, Snow White and her seven dwarfs would come running out from behind a tree to greet you.

Craving Indian? How About a Trip to Vancouver?

In the South Granville neighborhood of Vancouver lies an unassuming restaurant with a sleek black exterior and a purple neon sign. This is an establishment where patrons wait in line before the doors even open and will stand outside in the rain for hours for the opportunity to feast on the delicacies inside. The name of this restaurant is Vij's and critics have hailed it as one of the best Indian restaurants in the world.

Vij's is THE restaurant I wanted to eat at when I realized we were going to Vancouver, and was a little bit of the reason for why I wanted to go there in the first place. I first heard about this restaurant on the Pacific Northwest episode of No Reservations. But then I also saw it featured on Giada's Weekend Getaways. When she said on her show that Vij's is touted as one of the best Indian restaurants in the world, I knew that I wanted to eat there one day. Indian food is slowly inching its way towards being my favorite ethnic food so making a bold statement like "one of the best Indian restaurants in the world"? I sit up and take notice.

Being such a highly-praised, high-end establishment, you might expect that it would be difficult to get a reservation. Not so. You see, Vij does not accept reservations. If you want to eat there, you must do what all the other patrons do: Line up outside the doors before they open at 5:30 and hope that you're part of the first seating.




When we arrived at 4:45, there were only three guys in front of us so we chatted with them for the next 45 minutes. One of the guys was from Atlanta and he told us that when he's in Vancouver on business, he always has to eat here. He also said, much to my surprise, that Vij is there every night and he does come around to everyone's table and talks to them. Unfortunately for us, he was out of town this week so we didn't get to meet him. I thought him being at the restaurant waiting on tables was just a put on for TV when I saw him come to Giada's table on her weekend getaways show. I figured he was waiting on her because there was a camera crew at his restaurant. Lo and behold, he does actually wait on customers every night.

As the minutes ticked by, the line slowly started becoming longer and longer but strangely enough, everyone in line got in for the first seating. The weather must've kept a longer line from forming. It was still a busy dining room though, and it had such a lovely, relaxing atmosphere.







But let's get to the real stuff here: the food. Wow! I don't even know where to begin. First of all, when you are first seated, the hostesses come around and bring everyone a cup of chai and from that point they had me won. They had me at the chai. Once they set those warm mugs of steaming, spicy goodness, I was hooked. But they still continue winning you over even after they warmed you up from spending the past 45 minutes in the rain. They also come around and pass out hors d'oeurves to whet your appetite for the meal ahead. I honestly had no idea what I was eating when they came around because I'm not really familiar with the vernacular of Indian cuisine (other than tandoori, tikka masala, etc.), but I didn't care because they were all delicious!

For an appetizer we ordered what is described on the menu as chickpeas in star anise and date curry on grilled kale.

Now I know this probably doesn't look like much, but let me tell you, I will be talking about this dish for a long time. Not so much for the chickpeas, which were delicious enough, but for the grilled kale. After eating this, it's hard to believe that kale is usually a throw away garnish at most restaurants. Well this kale was definitely NOT worth throwing away. When I raved about it to our waitress she told us that it was marinated in lemon juice and coconut milk and then grilled. Here's why this grilled kale would turn me into a vegetarian if all vegetables tasted like this: IT TASTED LIKE MEAT! Huh? What? A green, hearty vegetable that is marinated and grilled can taste like meat? Well at Vij's it does. And now I'm going to have to try making marinated, grilled kale at home.

Moving on to the main course, Johnathon ordered the beef tenderloin and vegetables with almonds and garlic in a tomato yogurt curry

which I thought was a strange item on a menu in an Indian restaurant because I didn't think Indians ate beef what with cows being sacred an all. But in Vij's cookbook, I read that sometimes Indian restaurants will serve meat based on the palate of the country where they're living. If they don't have strong ties to Hinduism, then serving beef does not pose a dilemma.

I ordered the wine-marinated lamb popsicles in cream curry on turmeric spinach potatoes.

And even though I don't normally like lamb, I decided I was going to order it here because if it's cooked right, I actually like it, and I figured that one of the best Indian restaurants in the world can probably figure out how to cook it right. Well let me tell you, this lamb was definitely cooked right. It was absolutely delicious. And when you goop all that wonderful sauce onto some basmati rice and then sop it up with some naan, that made for one happy woman.

As if the meal couldn't have been perfect enough, we ordered and shared a dessert of Indian pistachio doughnuts in a cardamom syrup. This also came with some chai, and I devoured mine as well as Johnathon's.

I love just about anything with cardamom in it so I thought the doughnuts were delicious, but as I look back and sit here writing about this meal, it was about the experience just as much as the food. All the people who worked there made sure that everyone had an enjoyable dining experience. From the moment they bring out the chai when you first sit down, to the offering curious customers insight into how the food is prepared, you got the sense that they all really wanted you to have, not just a meal, but an experience you'll never forget. If we ever go back to Vancouver, we will definitely be going back, and I will, once again, happily wait in line for my dinner.

And now that my mouth is watering from writing about all this outstanding food, I'm dying for some curry, basmati rice, and some naan to sop it all up! Oh yeah, and some chai too!

The Salt Tasting Room: A Tale of Wine, Cheese, and Salami

While in Vancouver Johnathon and I ate at a restaurant called Salt that I discovered by watching Giada's Weekend Getaways on Food Network. I saw this episode a couple years ago and I vowed back then that if we ever visited Vancouver that we would eat at this restaurant. From the moment you find this place, you know that it's unusual because it is literally in an alley that you would NEVER discover on your own unless you were looking for it. The only real way to find it is by noting the salt shaker flag that hangs high above their door.


From the moment you walk in the place, you know that it just has a cool vibe about it.


Starting with centerpiece bare brick wall and community table

and the blackboard menu of meats, cheeses, and condiments that changes frequently. In fact, we ate here twice because I loved it so much, and there had already been changes made to the blackboard by the second time we visited due to the small quantities they order from the specialty purveyors they get their food from.

In addition to the blackboard menu, they also give out a paper menu to show you their wine list and also the other items they have available like salads, soups, and grilled cheese. The paper menu also explains what constitutes a tasting plate (combo of 3 selections from either meat, cheese or both, 3 condiments and a basket of bread) and the price.

Decisions, Decisions

We eventually decided to do two tasting plates, one with 3 meats, and one with 3 cheeses. For the meat plate, we got the Toscano with fig salami, pancetta salami, and piccantino which is similar to chorizo. The condiments Johnathon chose were Spanish date bread, pickles, and Basque olives.

All of the meat was delicious, but I have to say that the Toscano with fig salami was perfection in the form of dried, cured meat. It had just the right amount of sweet, salty, and herby flavor to make you want to eat a whole pound of it in one sitting (thankfully I didn't do that since I only had a few slices on my plate).

The cheese we selected were Comte (a Gruyere made in France rather than Switzerland), Lincolnshire cheddar, and manchego. The condiments I chose were the date bread, Apricot chutney, and Silkameen honey.

All of the cheeses were delicious, but that Lincolnshire cheddar was really outstanding. Pairing that with the apricot chutney made it salty, sweet, crumbly perfection. That chutney was one of the best things I've ever tasted. It was sweet and had just the smallest titch of curry flavor.

All of these things, had they been brought out individually, did not make for the wonderful experience. It was the combination of great flavors and textures that sent it to the "this is a meal that Beth is going to be talking about for years to come" category. Bringing out a hunk of manchego cheese by itself , though delicious because it is cheese after all, does not impress me. Combining it with the saltiness and herbs of the salami and the sweetness of the honey made it out of this world.

I seriously wanted to lick those tiny bowls clean when there was nothing left on my plate. In fact, I not only wanted to, I did.






Oh! And I forgot to mention the wine! I ordered a glass of chenin blanc made in British Columbia and that is now officially my favorite white wine. It was light and fruity with just enough dryness to make it a wine you have with dinner (or lunch *grin*) rather than a dessert wine. It was so good that I asked our waiter if he could tell me where I could buy it because I know that BC wines cannot be found anywhere in the U.S. - or at least not in middle America U.S. Maybe Pacific Northwest U.S. but certainly not Michigan.

For dessert we got a chocolate tasting plate (which is actually what I was licking in from the bowl in the pictures, but I did the same for my condiments dishes too) and Johnathon got so anxious to eat it that he forgot to let me take a picture of it, thus the chocolate spoon and the hunk taken out of the dark chocolate ganache cake.


After our waiter walked by and laughed at me licking my condiment bowl, and equally laughed at Johnathon for getting a picture (*ahem*, multiple pictures) of it, he handed us our bill, and I divulged how sad I was that we did not have a restaurant like this where we live. On our way out the door, we waved goodbye and I said, "You might see us back before Thursday," and sure enough, he did. Our first encounter at Salt was on a Sunday afternoon. We decided to go back there for our last night in Vancouver to have a memorable "last meal." Even though we had so many great memories, both food and travel related, they all seem to be competing with each other for who wants to be favorite.

I know! Mountain biking was my favorite!

Yeah. Notsomuch.

Don't try this at home folks; I'm a trained professional?

As we were planning our trip, my husband Johnathon and I were reading about Whistler's recent surge in popularity in mountain biking and how it might even become more popular than skiing in the next five years or so. Given that information, Johnathon couldn't resist the idea of mountain biking in Whistler before it becomes "all the rage." I was a bit tentative and skeptical, but I decided I would indulge my husband since I'm generally the one who chooses all the activities we do on vacation.

In the summer, the ski runs transform into mountain bike trails and they call it Whistler Mountain Bike Park. The chairlifts are retrofitted so that you can put your bike on the lift previous to the one you get on to go up the mountain.

The night before our excursion we went to the bike park office and asked one of the guys there what he'd recommend for two people who'd never biked on anything other than pavement. He suggested a package that came with rentals, an all-day lift ticket and a guide for three hours. So the next morning we arrived at the bike rental shop at 9-ish and began to acquire our gear that we'd be needing for our outing: helmet, gloves, elbow/knee pads, bike. Then we made our way to the meeting area where we were introduced to our guide, Paul from the Netherlands (no one who works in Whistler seems to be from Canada), and three other people on our "tour."

At this point I'm feeling utterly ridiculous at how I look and just know that all the serious bikers are looking at me and laughing hysterically:

After he showed us how to put our bikes on the chairlift (which was itself an undertaking) and we made our way up to the skills center, Paul started us showing us the basics of downhill mountain biking. Thankfully he gave us this "Mountain Biking 101" course before we started on the trails because the one thing I couldn't believe was how powerful the brakes were on this bike. I mean man alive! If you gripped these things with your entire hand you'd be sure to go flying off the front of your bike. Downhill mountain bikes have some serious brakes and shocks. This bike was definitely in a whole other league than the mountain bike I bought on clearance at Target for $20. Which is why Paul told us that you should only have one finger on the brakes at all times.

Well the one-finger-on-brake procedure is what turned out to be my demise. I have very small hands; so small that no one I have ever met has ever been able to put my wedding ring on their pinky let alone their ring finger. So trying to reach one finger on the brake at all times (and I had my finger pressed down on the rear brake the ENTIRE time!) was extremely taxing on my wrists and hands. Not to mention the fact that the easy trails that we took could've been considered intermediate in places because they hadn't been groomed in a while. The area's lack of rain had made it near impossible to pack in all of the potholes with dirt because the dry dirt just flies away.

So I was taking easy trails that scared the willies out of me towards the end of them because they were so full of unavoidable ruts and potholes.

Another aspect of downhill biking I found extremely difficult was that standing up is supposedly easier than sitting down. I actually didn't quite find this true, and I especially found it difficult to keep the pedals level to avoid getting snagged on the ground.

Johnathon and I were the slowpokes of our group. I honestly think he would've gone faster had it not been for me, but we always seemed to lag quite a bit behind the other three people in our group. I didn't care though. I wanted to return to our hotel that night with all of my digits and extremities in tact. So I was extremely proud of myself when we ended the morning and I hadn't fallen off my bike once.

About two hours into our "three hour tour" our guide decided we were ready for an intermediate trail and by this time my hands were ready to fall off my arms. Which is why I was jumping for joy when about midway through our intermediate trail trek, one of the guys in our group ended up with a broken rear brake and we had to go back to the bike shop to trade bikes. It was 12:30 at this point and there was only a half hour left of our time with our guide. I was tired, hungry and in pain, so when we got down to the base of the mountain where the bike shop was, we shook Paul's hand and said, "We're tired and hungry so we're just going to give the bikes back and go get lunch."

After lunch we decided we would use our lift tickets to go back up the mountain - but this time as sightseers, not mountain bikers. As the day progressed, I had an increasingly difficult time enjoying all of the beautiful scenery around me simply due to the pain in my wrists and hands. Despite the pain, it was still a beautiful trip up Whistler Mountain:



This statue in the background of our picture in on Whistler Mountain and is the symbol of the Vancouver 2010 Olympics




At this point in the day I was starting to deteriorate fast. As we descended Whistler Peak to make our way back to the village, I sat in the chilly open air of the chair lift and I started crying from the pain in my wrists and fingers. When we got off the chairlift we had to hike 10 minutes uphill to the gondola station that takes you back to the village, which to me, in my heightened state of pain, was like attempting to climb Mt. Everest.

When we finally arrived back to the hotel, I made a beeline for the spa to see if they could recommend any treatment for the agony I was in. I really just wanted their advice as to what I should do or if any sort of treatment would just make it worse. The lady at the front desk was really helpful and she offered to bring out one of their sports therapists so I could ask for her advice. When the therapist came out she said that she would just recommend icing it because the tendons were inflamed and getting a massage might make it worse. This was absolutely the right thing to do because as I started walking back to our room I noticed that any sort of pressure I put on my fingers, hands, or wrists sent burning, aching pain down my arm. I probably would've writhed in agony and wasted a lot of money if I had a therapist put all that pressure on my arms and wrists to give me a massage.

Back in our room, I quickly grabbed some ice to put in a plastic bag, lay on the bed and began to weep. I had a few rounds of sobbing before I started to feel the pain subside enough for me to put my bathing suit on (which was its own undertaking) so we could go to the pool. Everything I did that involved even the slightest pressure on my hands I had to ask Johnathon to do because it hurt so much. Even opening the door hurt. Which is why I was faced with the dilemma of returning from the pool and realizing I needed to brush out my tangled, wet hair, but couldn't bear to even hold a brush in my hand, let alone roughly brush out all the tangles. So I had to resort to asking my husband to brush my hair for me, which I must say, he did an excellent job for someone who's never had to brush tangles out of his own hair before. :o)

So lesson learned: downhill mountain biking is not for those with small, child-like hands. Thankfully as the evening wore on, the pain subsided. I think it peaked at around 5PM and started to fall after that. By the next day I only had a little residual pain to contend with, though it was more muscle twitches than pain.

***

A few days ago I emailed our trip pictures to friends and family and when I talked to my dad on the phone earlier today he said to me, "Well I'm proud of you. I can't believe this is the same girl who, when she was ten, went hiking at the Atwood Lodge and 15 minutes into it had already given up. Now you're rafting and hiking and mountain biking."

Well thanks for the vote of confidence Dad, but with regards to mountain biking, I think you'd have to agree that there's still a trace of that ten year old girl still alive and kicking. While I'm proud of myself for attempting such a difficult feat in the first place, pavement, not dirt, is still my preferred method of transportation and ambulation.

Whistler, British Columbia: It's Not Just for Skiing Anymore

My husband and I just recently returned from a wonderful trip to Vancouver and Whistler in Beautiful British Columbia. Some people might think that Whistler must be a ghost town in the summer, but warm weather activities abound in this well-known skiing hamlet.

Our first full day in Whistler involved a ziplining adventure with Ziptrek Ecotours and a rafting trip on the Green River with Whistler River Adventures. In addition to a mountain biking excursion on our third day (which I will address in a separate post), we certainly were not at a loss for things to do there in the middle of August.

Beginning with the Ziptrek tour, we started our morning by meeting our tour group near the village gondola and our guides then led us to another location to put on our gear and harnesses.

The first of 5 ziplines is a warm up line next to the village gondola and is nowhere near the beautiful scenery of the rain forest and Fitzsimmons Creek that they brag about on their website. But once everyone in our group of 10 had the chance to do a practice round, we were off in a van to where the real magic happens: the rain forest.

The satisfaction of the tour you take with Ziptrek is that it's not just an adventure, but it's also educational. The guides do an outstanding job to, while walking you through the rain forest canopy along the boardwalks and suspension bridges, explain in detail the ways Ziptrek helps the local ecology, and what humans need to do in order to work toward sustainability. For someone like me who is always looking for ways to make greener choices, it was nice to know we were supporting a low-impact tour company during our vacation.

Ziplining through the trees and right above a mountain creek is one of those experiences that makes every adult feel like a kid again. If you're not afraid of heights and you like going fast, I'm not sure how many people who come to Whistler would have the audacity to pass up this experience.









After our ziptrek tour, I didn't think it was possible for our day to get any better - but it did! Whitewater rafting was the highlight of the trip for me. I'd never done it before so this was my first experience but it will not be my last. Luckily Whistler River Adventures has a photographer who gets some of the trip on film. They definitely take you for a ride on the price of purchasing a picture CD at the end of the tour, but I have to say it was worth the expense for photos like these:









I can hear the sound of the water rushing down the river as I'm posting these pictures. Or maybe that's just the sound of my computer fan.

Our guide Sheree (she's the daredevil in the back of the raft) was from New Zealand and in addition to being entertaining just by listening to her accent alone, she was also a laugh a minute. If she wasn't telling us funny stories, she was intentionally paddling us toward big boulders only to say, "Oh man! Where did that rock come from? You guys need to wake up and pay attention!"

If we weren't laughing at her running us into boulders, we were cracking up at her tales of foreign tourists going on rafting trips who didn't speak English and her having to teach them how to raft without them understanding a word she said. Those stories all began when we all didn't know what to do when she shouted "Forward!" instead of, "Forward paddle!" It was quite hilarious because we all just sort of looked at each other and then hunched ourselves forward in the raft. We didn't get that she meant to paddle. It was then through her laughter that she had to tell us, "No, forward is just short for forward paddle."

This day of our trip was just smiles and fun all around. When I turned out the light to go to bed that night all I could think was, I'm so happy we also decided to go to Whistler for our trip to Vancouver.

So with a full day like the one we had just experienced, I'd have to say that for those people who only see Whistler as a place to go skiing, give it a try in the summer. You won't be disappointed.