Recession? What recession?
The economy has tanked, jobs are disappearing and shoppers are nervously pinching their pennies, yet the voracious expansion of Vancouver's restaurant industry continues unabated.
To some, the new Twisted Fork Bistro might seem like a perfectly comfortable place to hunker down and contemplate the idiosyncrasies of our distorted dining market.
As you approach this casual, French-influenced restaurant - located on the seedy south side of the Granville Street entertainment strip, where the triple-X sex shops are clustered - you will pass people slumped in doorways and ranting meth heads. The depressing neighbourhood helps to remind that no matter how severely your retirement savings might have shrunk, there are countless others who are far worse off.
Stepping inside, you will be enveloped in the glowing warmth of a long, narrow room with high-beamed ceilings, cozy red walls and rustic wood tables. The decor has a humble, rough-around-the-edges bohemian flair (note the mismatched candle holders and faux fur DIY upholstery job on the couches in front and back).
The menu, quaintly presented on clipboards embellished by old forks with curled tines, is a modestly priced selection of No Forks (cheese plates, tasting platters, fries etc.), Small Forks (appetizers ranging from $6.50 to $9), Spoons (soups) and Big Forks (entrees, which top at $24).
And if you're still feeling guilty about spending in these uncertain economic times, just ask for one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs at the tables across from the bar. The tingly numbness spreading across your bottom by the end of the night will help atone for any perceived sense of gluttony.
The Twisted Fork Bistro is owned by a small-town trio of young friends from the ski resort town of Fernie, B.C., where they ran a popular slope-side restaurant called The Wood for seven years.
You might wonder at first what nice kids like these are doing overextending themselves in a nasty financial downturn. But once you hear the back story (they packed up and headed for the big city nearly two years ago, waited to find a place they could afford and opened up less than two months ago), you can't help but feel sorry for these struggling underdogs and want to cheer them on.
Service is genuinely friendly. The all-B.C. wine and microbrew list will make you feel good about supporting local suppliers. And chef Corey Sullivan's extensive selection of homemade preserves (all based on his grandmother's recipes) add a wholesome touch.
But being nice, alas, isn't always enough. I don't know about you, but when I go out to eat, especially in these financially straitened times, I'd rather not waste my hard-earned dollars on something an amateur foodie might whip up at home.
Mr. Sullivan trained at the Stratford Chefs School and worked for a year as the pastry chef for Vancouver's slickly professional Glowbal Restaurant Group. So I don't understand why his Twisted Fork Platter ($14.50) looks so unsophisticated. Why are his tourtière bites packed into light, buttery pastry shells with messy, crumbly, untrimmed edges? Why is the Gruyère and onion tart sliced into a sad, limp sliver that flops over a mound of vinegary pear-and-walnut chutney? And why is it all sloshing around on a big, white platter drenched in olive oil and balsamic vinegar? I think the chef is going for an unfussy, down-home feel, but the overall effect is sloppy.
True to the restaurant's name, the chef puts a few of his own unique twists on classic French comfort food. His experimental touches are mostly successful: Panko breading gives the platter's frog legs a nice crispy crunch; the tourtière's caramelized onions and chorizo sausage might offend purists, but the sweetness works for me.
