D Roti Shak: Real Caribbean meals that are worth the road trip

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De road to D Roti Shak comes with a history lesson. We're taking the Kingsway all the way from downtown Vancouver to New Westminster. It's a long drive. Fortunately, I'm travelling with urban planner Andy Yan, who regales me with fascinating factoids about the Lower Mainland's early development.

Did you know that the Kingsway began as a wagon road built by the Royal Engineers, who were sent from England to keep order during the gold rush? Shame on me, but I didn't even know that New Westminster was British Columbia's pre-Confederation capital, let alone realize that it was vulnerable to an American attack (thus the need for an upgraded trail to move troops from the British naval reserve on English Bay). The only thing I know about New West is that it seems to be the place where hipsters go to have babies.

There is a point to this story, and we'll get to it eventually. But as we cruise along the Kingsway – past Little Saigon, Metrotown and dozens of off-the-beaten-pack gems like the Shanghainese restaurant near Imperial Street that apparently makes the best deep-fried soup dumplings around – I am reminded that there is so much more to our local dining scene than just Gastown. And that is why I have made it my new mission to dig deeper into the suburbs and explore their culinary treasures.

D Roti Shak is at the top of the hill in New Westminster, where the Kingsway turns into 12th Street. Neither of us had previously been to D Roti Shak and we have no great expectations. But it sure looks cute. We are smitten by the cheery tropical decor, with walls paint-splashed in bright red, green and yellow, from the minute we walk in the door.

There are only three other customers on Sunday afternoon: two women from Burnaby and a gentleman from California who is temporarily working in Blaine, Wash. We eavesdrop on their cross-table conversation while perusing the chalkboard menu. The women come here every weekend for the "true taste of Trinidad." The gentleman, who dined here for the first time the weekend before, hasn't been able to find decent roti anywhere else outside Seattle.

We turn to the owner behind the counter and order. We'll take a double, chicken roti and goat curry with rice and peas. Oh, and also the oxtail special.

Jack writes it all down, then looks up dubiously.

"Dat for deh two a yuh?"

Yes, we nod. We came a long way to eat here. We want to try as much as we can.

"Nah," he shakes his head, scratching oxtail off the pad.

No? What do you mean, no?

"Dat's too much food," he frowns. "Yuh be sick."

We don't have to eat everything. We'll take the leftovers home. It takes some convincing, but he finally agrees to give us the oxtail – in a takeout container, not on a plate.

First up, the double. We really should have ordered two, the owner be damned. This is a sandwich that needs to be eaten with both fists, not sliced and divided with a knife and fork. The bara flatbread is light and pillowy, yet has good chew. The curried chickpeas – oh, my – they're so tender and creamy and obviously cooked from scratch. The yellow curry is mildly spicy, but balanced with deeply dark and sweet tamarind chutney. Mr. Yan approves.

After a while, the drinks arrive. D Roti Shak runs on island time. Don't be in any hurry. They're out of peanut punch. (They're actually out of a lot of things, so I hope this review helps them replenish the pantry.) But they do have sorrel, a dark crimson juice made from hibiscus flowers steeped with cloves and cinnamon, and mauby, a tree-bark based beverage with a kick of anise. Both drinks initially taste bitter and slightly medicinal, but round out under the curries and tame the house-made hot sauce.

Oh, that hot sauce. It's thick and yellow and flecked with black specks. Everyone loves it; nobody knows what's in it.

"He won't give me the recipe," says a new diner at the next table who watches us swooning. Ruean is a regular customer who came from Surrey to replenish her starving son after his full day of football practice. "But I think he makes it with a combination of Scotch bonnet peppers and the little wiri wiri ones."

Then the chicken roti arrives. The chicken is moist and popping with fresh-roasted cumin. The dhalpuri roti stuffed with dried chickpeas is melt-in-the-mouth tender, yet slightly crunchy.

"Yuh know any good roti makers?" Jack asks, explaining that his "lady from Mauritius" never came back after a night of training and the Punjabi ladies are useless. "Dey roll, bang, bang, slap. Yuh need da pinch it so dey don't burst. I trained dem for four days. Nah."

Sorry, don't know any roti makers, but I do know that these goat and oxtail curries are amazing. Again, Jack won't give away any of his secrets. But the curries have obviously been slowly cooked down to eliminate every last trace of powdery throat-catchiness. The goat, obviously premarinated with citrus, is bright ruby red, tender and served on the bone. The oxtail is a dark unctuous plate of savory, marrowy fattiness.

I know Jack isn't going to give me recipes, but I nevertheless try to flirt for his last name.

"You really need dat?" he says. "So dey can stop me a de airport on de no-fly list? Cheney and Bush – dem the real terrorists!"

Jack goes on and on until I tell him about the history of the Kingsway and how it was built to combat the threat of an American attack.

"Really? Huh. If da troops came by here, I'd say, 'Boys, relax, have roti and a beer.' "