by Anti-Foodie | Remember all the spoiled, fat-arsed Limey journos whining about Vancouver during the first fragile days of our Olympic Games? Yeah, I really wanted to smack them, too. I’d actually completely forgotten about that desire until this morning, when my boss sent me a link to a Mark Jones’ feature that covered Vancouver in today’s Telegraph. Ever the masochist, I clicked through. Oops. It was the same old predictable tripe: Stanley Park, Gassy Jack, Douglas Coupland…you know, the “real Vancouver” as seen over plates of red snapper at Sandbar on Granville Island. How cripplingly lazy, I thought, but worse was still to come.
Infuriating me more was his supplemental feature, which was billed as “essential information for visiting Vancouver, including the best sights, hotels and restaurants”. Essential my ass. It’s as if he spent 24 hours here being led around town by a need to see and do nothing remotely interesting or representative of the city. Though he gets the Irish Heather and Cioppino’s right, under the heading of “Best Restaurants” he proves that he is about as wise to food as his ancestors were to dentistry:
“Vancouver has several fine chains, notably Earls, White Spot and Cactus Club, offering good-value and excellent food in pleasant, informal surroundings. Earls downtown is the first choice for a perfect, mid-price meal.”
Cough-sputter-cough. Pardon me? Did you just say that Earls was the “first choice” for anything other than ogling barely legals and big screens? I do believe you did, Mr. Jones, which means you have no business recommending anything other than Moron pills. Elsewhere in the article, he falls for the VAG’s terribly uninspired Gallery Cafe (a tourist trap that he calls it “delightful”), but the real disaster is when he gets to Gastown:
Two places rise above the rest in touristy Gastown: Incendio for pizzas, pastas and salads, and the Water Street Café, which is particularly pleasant for lunch.
Go. Fuck. Yourself. You. Stupid. Foreign. Hack…and please don’t come back.
With a certified daily circulation hovering close to a million people, the Telegraph’s editors can afford to send qualified, talented and curious writers half-way around the world to report competently on life beyond Lands’ End. Instead, they regularly trot out hapless relics like Mark Jones. Once they’re finished castrating him, the dumb gits might consider a wee trim for themselves.
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Do you honestly think that it is reasonable to personally attack (and to call for the commission of a particularly horrifying kind of violence against) the clearly mis-informed – and arguably without taste – author of the article in question? Complaining – even railing – about his choices (White Spot? Earl’s? My god, there’s no excuse) is perfectly acceptable, since they are clearly terrible ones – but poor taste isn’t a valid argument for violence.
This isn’t the first article by “Anti-Foodie” that has gotten under my fingernails, but it will certainly be the last – I won’t be reading Scout anymore. If your “supporters” didn’t include every fucking restaurant within five blocks my home, I’d stop frequenting them, too.
This was a very unreasonable post, indeed. I suspect that being unreasonable was the intent/point. Sad to lose you as a reader because of it.
Loved this. Thank you. Heh, White Spot is number 1!
No question the gripe fest displayed by the Telegraph during the Olympics was not justifiable. But after reading the linked Telegraph atricles as well as this one, I am having a hard time deciding who the bigger “hack” is.
As a veteran service professional of some of the more delectable restaurant offerings in this city you all cherish so much, I thank mister James for the high praise he laid down in his little publication for these establishments. Keep the English traipsing through those Gastown fav’s I say. Fore you see, as delightful as most English blokes are, I just can’t afford to pay for the privilege of chatting with them in my work any longer…bloody wankers!
The criticism is a touch misplaced. Most foreign journalists are toured through Vancouver by a well known private company that specializes in Tourism in Vancouver. Those journalists are provided with a whirlwind tour of all the venues who have paid handsomely to get this coverage.
No such thing as free press, you should know the game by now.
On another note, ever notice how much we get chuffed about other ‘big’ cities writing about us? It’s about time we stopped looking for the validation and told em all it’s West Jersey, so they’ll go back to ignoring us. I’m done with sharing this place with the world. It’s mine, fuck off, get your own sandwich.
**In the words of Mark Jones**
Dear Diary,
After leaving Vancouver, I went to the village of Kumbutu in Eastern Africa. The villagers were all quite pleasant; I enjoyed sampling food at Moobuto, Jumboko and Tiikaka. Later I discovered a blog by someone in Kumbutu who ranted “Go fuck yourself…”. He said Limabala was a much better restaurant in the village and that I should have known better being a Londoner. Admittedly, I didn’t realise that Jumboko was a local chain run by a successful villager who understood what locals enjoyed.
Ah well, I guess the local blogger expects us to be mind-readers and enjoy whichever he likes.
Silly local villager blogger… good thing other readers aren’t so thin skinned!
MJ
It’s like reading a National Geographic feature on your city (or for that matter, Omer Arbel’s “Vancouver Maneuvers” column in Dwell magazine back in 2007 http://www.dwell.com/articles/vancouver-maneuvers.html) – your reaction is “WTF, did they actually get out and walk around? What was the publication date on that,1999?”
I think the VAG cafe is pretty good for what it is.
When I was in middle school, I enjoyed writing stuff like this. But I never enjoyed reading it, because there is nothing to learn from it. The joy of finding something to feel superiour to wore off at age 16.
I don’t know much about the readers of The Telegraph, but I’m gonna wager they’re average workaday Brits more interested in some “American food” than in having a culinary experience. I bet he knows his audience and his recommendations aren’t misguided in the least. Just speculation.
It’s the Telegraph, innit? There’s a reason they call it the Torygraph. It’s for sheltered, upper-middle-class, immigrant-hating Home Counties dwellers. Marvellous what’s happening in the colonies, what?