The Irish Heather is Vancouver's only authentic Irish pub. So says the Honorary Irishman, who lived for six months in Waterford City (and spent much of that time drinking Smithwick's).
He, like the legions of other Irish Heather fans out there, has always enjoyed its low ceilings, narrow corridors, warm ambience, rustic charm and fabulous selection of beer.
But now the venerable Gastown gastropub has moved into new digs across the street.
The Honorary Irishman is not optimistic. "It won't be the same," he laments.
Proprietor Sean Heather says he didn't have much choice. The old building, which hugs the cobblestone alleys of the city's historic Gaoler's Mews, has been shut down for seismic upgrades. Mr. Heather could have weathered a three-month closing. But after the renovations, it still would have felt dramatically different.
Mr. Heather admits change is hard, but he thinks regulars will be pleased. (His female focus group apparently cheered and clapped when they saw the sparkling clean, tiled bathrooms.)
"It's like the Heather, but better," he says.
The main room is wrapped in brick and dominated by a long stand-up bar. Dark wood floors made from Guinness barrels, copper-sheeted accent walls and crystal chandeliers exude a warm, cozy glow. The original Heather is commemorated with caricature oil paintings drawn from photographs of patrons clustered around the beer taps.
Much like the old Heather, the new Heather is a den-like warren of nooks and separate rooms. Out back, connected by a brick alleyway, we find the new Shebeen whisky bar. It's much brighter than the main room, louder, full of dancing dervishes and encased in concrete (for easy hosing down the next morning, I would guess).
Next door, connected via the bathroom causeway, we spy the Salty Tongue deli, which shares the Irish Heather menu at night and is also open for lunch. It's a long, narrow room with a 52-seat communal table that looks full.
"Must be a private party," I think, steering the Honorary Irishman in another direction.
"Oh no!" says a kindly waitress who overhears me. "Go on back. If there's a chair, just grab it."
We score a high-top table for two in a snug alcove. Perched on our stools, the first thing we notice is that almost everyone around us is eating. At 10:30 p.m.! The Irish Heather may call itself a gastropub, but the food was never much to write home about. That's all changed now that Colleen McClean (former chef de cuisine at Feenie's and Rare) has been brought in as executive chef. Her menu raises pub grub to a whole new level for Vancouver.
Trout ($10) is hot-smoked in-house, with a firm, flakey texture. It comes with a lip-smacking side of mashed minted peas, drizzled with crème fraîche and topped with a smattering of golden-battered, deep-fried shallot rings.
Cassoulet terrine ($12) is a hearty slice of Toulouse sausage, duck confit and pork belly, each savoury element wrapped in tiny parcels of Savoy cabbage with a few white beans thrown into the mix. It comes with a small mixed green salad tossed with a perfectly blended honey vinaigrette. I don't get excited about salad dressings very often, but this is very good.
Pot pie ($14) changes weekly. We get a rich, gooey, Guinness-braised steak version with nice cubes of lean meat, finely cut carrots and fresh peas baked in a thick, chewy crust. The massive portion comes with buttery double-mashed potatoes and excellent gravy that is creamy and golden.
Beyond the predictable burgers and bangers, Ms. McClean offers a few global twists: Asian-inspired fish and chips (made with sake kasu marinated snapper), Moroccan-style braised lamb and Thai green curry chicken (entrées range from $14 to $19).
