Sean Heather: An Eyeful Of Slaughter In Iberico

Sean Heather, owner of Salt Tasting Room, The Irish Heather, The Shebeen, and The Salty Tongue, is taking the reins tonight. He will be guest-blogging his way through London, Ireland, and Spain, searching for ideas and inspiration for his new restaurant in Gastown’s Blood Alley. This is his third entry, detailing his experience at the Fermin slaughterhouse in Iberico. The final post in this series is still to come…

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Iberico Country

The drive from San Sebastian was long and a little boring. We set out at 9am and 6 hours later, thanks to a cheap portable satellite navigational system, that on more then one occasion was almost fucked out the window.

The last part of the journey saw us climb out of a never-ending low flat terrain and into a cooler mountainous region. We were excited for the change in scenery and the cooler temperatures but really, my excitement stemmed from the fact that we had reached Iberico country…you cannot cure hams in a warm climate. Read more

The Sean Heather Chronicles: San Sebastián

Sean Heather, owner of Salt Tasting Room, The Irish Heather, The Shebeen, and The Salty Tongue, is taking the reins tonight. He will be guest-blogging his way through London, Ireland, and Spain, searching for ideas and inspiration for his new restaurant in Gastown’s Blood Alley. This is his second entry, detailing his travels from Madrid to San Sebastian. Further Spanish adventures (including a day at the slaughterhouse) are still to come…

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Spain

Arrived in Madrid airport at 9am and was met by Scott Hawthorn (co-owner of Salt) who had arrived from New York earlier. Rented a car from Avis and set off on our 4+ hour drive to San Sebastian. Read more

On The European Road With Sean Heather

Sean Heather, owner of Salt Tasting Room, The Irish Heather, The Shebeen, and The Salty Tongue, is taking the reins tonight. He will be guest-blogging his way through London, Ireland, and Spain, searching for ideas and inspiration for his new restaurant in Gastown’s Blood Alley. This is his first entry, detailing his days in London, Limerick, and Dublin. His adventures in San Sebastián are still to come…

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London

Arrived in London at lunchtime and got to the hotel just in time to freshen up and then head out for a late lunch.

Canteen “is committed to providing honest food, nationally sourced, skillfully prepared and reasonably priced.” That’s what their website says. I can’t disagree with their claim.

As I was tired and hungry, I chose the safe option of Bangers & Mash. It tasted great save for the char on one side of each of the bangers. Thankfully, the very sweet onion gravy balanced the char. So, after comfort food and a cup of tea I felt restored and ready to head out to Borough Market, one of London’s better food markets.

Bacon, anybody?

I think they're all dead...

Mmm, goose fat...

After ambling round the market for a while I headed over to Neal’s Yard cheese store for a meeting with their sales rep, Jane.

Normally when a Canadian restaurant/store purchases imported cheese they must go through a broker. There is a quota on how much Imported cheese is allowed into Canada each year and only brokers who have inherited or purchased quota can bring cheese in. Since the quota system was implemented in the 70’s, the quotas have not been increased.

Most of the time, the selection of imported cheeses is based on what a broker believes will absolutely sell, i.e. they are not inclined to use up their quota on unusual, risky cheeses that may not sell. So if you have ever wondered why the selection of foreign cheese is so limited in Vancouver, it’s because brokers are unwilling to take a risk. And really, who can blame them?

Vancouver company Dovre Imports has some of this quota and a refreshingly different attitude to ordering. When it comes to unusual cheese they allow sellers like me to place our order directly with the European cheese sellers. Neal’s Yard is one such cheese seller and Jane calls me once a month to talk about her favorites, what’s good and what’s not. I then place my order. The first time Dovre knows about this is when they receive confirmation from Neal’s Yard that an order has been sent.

Today I am going to place my order in person.

Store manager Toby and sales rep Jane help me taste my way through 20+ cheeses. When it is over I have ordered Lincolnshire Poacher, Isle of Mull, Cashel Blue, Gubbeen and Dawes Weslydale.

Jane

Wall of cheese...

Tired and feeling a “cheese coma” coming on, I head for my hotel.

Next day I had breakfast in an English Café called The Regency Café.

Film buffs might recognize the Regency as the scene of a brutal assault in the movie “Layer Cake”.

The café is busy and runs like a well-oiled machine. Everybody lines up to place their order, and you must not take your seat until your order has been placed. The lady, who takes your money, also makes your tea, puts your toast down and calls out your order when it is ready for you to collect. Between “to go” and “to stay” business, she processes over 90 people in the 30 minutes that I am there. I get my tea when I place my order, and as I settle in my seat the lady bellows “White Toast”. I collect my toast and settle back in my seat only to hear “bacon, egg, sausage and tomato” roared again.

The big booming voice does not match the small lady, so much so that I at first thought that there was a burly cook shouting from the kitchen. But no, she is a small lady with a big booming voice. Nonetheless, each time she bellowed it was like something out of Poltergeist. The truth is that if she didn’t shout, a customer might not hear her and the food would start to pile up in front of her, etc. The breakfast was great, with the tomatoes being a welcome change from the usual baked beans.

Content, I head to Covent Garden to visit the store of Irish designer Orla Kiely. My wife was gracious enough to hold the fort (business/home) so that I could go on this trip, this despite the fact that all 3 children and my wife had been sick the day before I left. I would be killed if I went to London and didn’t buy an Orla Kiely item. Just like Isaac Mizrahi, Orla Kiely has been commissioned by Target to design a line of goods.

Purchase made, I made my way to “The Cow” gastropub in Notting Hill for lunch. It is arguably London’s first gastropub and as such is considered to have led the gasatropub revolution. It has been a major influence on the Irish Heather and I always try to visit whenever I am in London.

The Cow is owned by Ton Conran, whose dad is Sir Terrance Conran, the founder of Habitat (Britain’s version of IKEA) and owner of 30+ restaurants. Tom appears to have passed on the family business in favour of building his own empire. Tom also has a deli, “Toms Deli”, a diner, “Lucky 7”, and a Mexican cantina, “Crazy Homies”.

I ordered the chicken liver paté, fruit chutney and toast with a beautiful pint of Guinness. The guy beside me had a whole Dorset crab that was as big as his head.

There were two reasons for this trip. First, to check out the tapas culture of Spain. Second, to attend the Ireland versus England game in the Six Nations international rugby tournament in Dublin. I next headed out to Stansted airport to catch a flight to Ireland.

Ireland

After an overnight in my hometown of Limerick, myself and Brian (pals since we were 12 years old) drove to Dublin on Saturday morning. The scene of the rugby game was Croke Park. This stadium is located in the city and with a sold out capacity of 82,000 people, all roads leading to it are clogged beyond belief.

We parked our car at my uncles house in the ‘burbs and he gave us a lift into the city center in his vintage Rolls Royce. Riding in this old boy was like floating on a cloud…

Once downtown we headed to Bentleys Oyster Bar & Grill for a pre-game late luncheon. Bentleys is the first Irish-based restaurant from Irish-born, UK-based celebrity chef Richard Corrigan. Chef Richard has a Michelin star restaurant in London’s Soho (Lindsay House), and Bentleys is a casual seafood restaurant in the center of Dublin.

With Corrigan’s following in Britain and his Irish roots, Bentleys was an obvious choice for Brits and Irish folk in Dublin for the game, and it was packed. The mirror above the fireplace was draped in the British Union Jack and the Irish Tricolor.

I had an in-house smoked haddock with soft poached egg and Brian had the fish and chips. Both were superb, and so with two hours to go we walked to the stadium.

Ireland carried the day and there was much celebrating that night, though ours was muted slightly as we had to fly out to Spain at 6am the next morning.

Next installment – Eating Pintxos in San Sebastian

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Escape To Point No Point And Victoria

That would have been a particularly mellow holiday season had it not been for the treachery of the weather. It began, really, with me pulling out of my driveway after the first major cold snap (the night of Dec. 21st). I very quickly discovered that the Westfalia was in no mood for travel. As we pulled up to the first traffic light I pressed my foot all the way to the floor to find that the master brake cylinder had cracked, the brake fluid had drained, and we had the stopping power of butter. Nothing happened. Very gingerly I pulled the beast around and into the mechanic’s garage (two doors from my house).

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$850 and three days later, the car was of little use to us anyway. The weather had gotten so bad in the upper redoubts of West Vancouver that getting to Michelle’s parents house on Christmas Eve required us parking at the bottom of 300m high hill and then piling all our luggage and gifts on to an old sleigh and pulling it up through the ice and snow (Grinch-style).

After that, it was all turkey and gravy. Michelle’s mom made a superb Christmas dinner, and after putting our very anxious children to bed we stuffed the stockings, had another drink, and fell asleep ourselves.

Christmas morning was beautiful. All was quiet, with snow deep and crisp and even. Jack and Pip tore through their presents like raptors through a primary school, and following a hearty breakfast of chocolate and coffee we piled our things into the sleigh and tore down the hill to the car to ready for Christmas #2 in Victoria. Because of the snow and the icy roads (and a missed ferry), we didn’t get to my mom’s house until after 5pm. The kids went through their second present opening session by a roaring fire (listening to Neil Young), and then we all sat down for another turkey dinner, complete with paper hats and lots of Stella Artois.

The next few days are sort of a blur. The grandparents took the kids up to Point No Point Resort in Sooke, so Michelle and I were mercifully left to our own devices. We bumped into lots of old friends; breakfasted and lunched at Mo:Le twice; got high on caffeine at Habit several times; enjoyed a truly fantastic dinner of five courses at Fernwood’s excellent Stage; and followed walkabouts with driveabouts and early nights with late mornings. I grew up in Victoria, so it’s always a headful of memories and reminders of paths taken and not.

Point No Point is a post-Christmas family tradition, so we were quite eager to get up there and join everyone. It’s an ethereal, Big Sur kind of spot. The noise of the ocean never fades, and they keep the cabins well supplied with kindling and mossy wood. My iPhone had no reception. There was no wireless. No TV. No radio. There was, however, a hot tub on the deck, lots of wine and beer (My sister’s husband brought a big bottle of Le Fin du Monde) and a long and winding path down to a longhouse on the beach, complete with open fire pit and benches. It really does feel like the end of the continent, and we love it.

On the 29th it was time to get home and back to work. We packed our things and piled into Westy, listening to the King’s College Cambridge Choir sing Agnus Dei on the old stereo as we headed north to catch the ferry home, happy to have had some time to slow down and reflect on both 2008 and 2009.

We hope you had a great holiday, and wish you the best for the new year.

Field Trip: Owen Lightly Fishing For Dinosaurs

I recently visited Harrison Hot Springs, and among some other interesting activities, had the chance to fish for White Sturgeon – a pre-historic fish – on the mighty Fraser River.

A couple weeks prior, Andrew had called and asked if I wanted to go to Harrison Hot Springs as part of a media trip that would highlight things to do in and around this little village. He mentioned that Sturgeon fishing would be involved and my interest was piqued. I somehow wrangled two days off from work, and last Monday I hit the highway to Harrison.

Being a virgin to these sorts of press junkets, I was a little apprehensive. There would be real writers on this trip, and then there would be me: a dirty cook with a blogging hobby. Would they allow me to speak to them? Would they eat steak and lobster, while I ate bologna sandwiches alone in my hotel room? These are the sorts of things that run through my insecure mind. Of course all the worrying was for naught, as everyone was incredibly nice and a pleasure to hang out with.

The drive to Harrison takes about 90 minutes from Vancouver on Highway 1. If you have a little more time, and are a fan of winding, tree-lined roads, Highway 7 will also get you there. All nut-lovers must stop along the way in Agassiz at one of the many hazelnut orchards there.

The Kilby General Store

You had me at pie

Pig at Kilby

Upon arriving in Harrison, I headed to the Harrison Hot Springs Resort and Spa, where I would be staying, to rendezvous with the media group. After a brief meet and greet, we headed to the Kilby Historic Site in nearby Harrison Mills, where Jo-Anne Leon gave us a tour of this interactive museum. The centrepiece of the five-acre site is a hundred year old building, which was once owned by the Kilby family and operated as a general store from 1906-1977. The general store is filled with original packaging for products from the 1920′s and 30′s, and in the high season has interpretive actors playing out scenes from times gone by. The top floor, which was a hotel at one point, now has many exhibits on the history of the area. With a restaurant, heritage farm, camp site and boat launch on-site, it’s a nice place to spend some time.

Back at the resort, we checked into our rooms and then had some free time to explore the property. I soaked in one of the five hot springs they have on-site (two indoors, three outside), and then it was back to the room to iron my fancy clothes in anticipation for dinner at The Copper Room, the resort’s upscale restaurant. Prior to dinner we met up for drinks and canapés in the one of the suites with director of sales and marketing for the resort, Ian Maw (Jamie Maw’s brother!), who prior to moving to the valley seven years ago, worked for both the Pan Pacific and The Four Seasons in Vancouver.

Love is beautiful

Dinner at The Copper Room is a trip back in time. The restaurant doesn’t look like it has changed in thirty years, and I think our server Bart has probably been there since the last renovation. There is a house band which plays lounge favorites seven nights a week and a large dance floor to strut your stuff. Watching the old couples shuffle across the dance floor, holding each other closely, was almost enough to thaw my cold heart for a moment – but not quite. Food was standard hotel dining room fare, but I have to say the steak I had was cooked nicely, which counts for a lot in my books.

Then it was back to my room for a good nights sleep, for tomorrow was the activity that drew me to Harrison Hot Springs: Sturgeon fishing. But first I would have a relaxation massage in the Healing Springs Spa.

The White Sturgeon has been swimming around the river systems of the Pacific coast for over 175 million years, making it the oldest freshwater species of fish on earth. It can live to be over a hundred years old, with females first spawning between 24-35 years of age, and males anywhere from 11-24 years. They grow very slowly, but fish up to fourteen feet in length and weighing over 1500 pounds have been found. They differ from most fish in that they don’t have scales. Instead, they have bony plates called scutes along their sides and back, which protect them from predators.

From 1880-1916, commercial fishing took over a million pounds of Sturgeon a year out of the Fraser River, nearly wiping the species out entirely. From 1916-1994, sport fisherman were allowed to harvest Sturgeon for personal use, but a massive die-off in 1993 prompted a moratorium on all removal of the fish from the river. Since then, the fishery has been a hundred percent catch-and-release. With stocks as low as a few thousand in the early nineties, Fraser River Sturgeon are now on the mend, with anywhere from 45,000 to 70,000 now in the Fraser – a marked improvement since the moratorium.

Our fishing guide for the day was Tony Nootebos, owner of Harrison Bay Guided Services and its parent company the B.C. Sport Fishing Group. Tony has lived in Harrison Hot Springs for twelve years, originally owning a gas station and campsite before starting the charter business in 1996. The first year he only did 8 trips and nearly went bust, but the following year that number increased to 80, with the company growing steadily ever since. He offers seasonal salmon fishing, and trout and sturgeon fishing year round. He now has a 22 boat fleet, 24 full and part time fishing guides and takes out about 4500 guests per year.

We met Tony at the dock near the entrance to the resort. The first group of media had just returned from their morning trip and were just beaming, having reeled in a 300 pound fish that morning. Hearing their stories, I felt the excitement building up inside me. Having grown up around commercial fish boats (my cousin and dad were both commercial salmon fisherman), I have a connection to fish that I have never quite embraced fully, but am conscious of it all the same. Every time I’m near the water it reminds me of growing up.

Eagles wait to kill something

We set out across Lake Harrison, heading for the mouth of the Harrison River, which will take us to the Fraser. We stop briefly to do some bald eagle watching and fill out our one day fishing licenses.

Tony baits the hook with salmon eggs

Casting the line

We enter the Fraser and Tony takes us to the same spot where the first group made their catch earlier in the day. This time of the year it is harder to get the sturgeon to bite, as the colder water slows down their metabolism and makes them less active. The anchor goes down and the lines are baited and cast into the cold river. Different times of the year calls for different types of bait – right now salmon eggs are appropriate, as that is a large part of the diet of the Sturgeon this time of year.

The lines are set and the waiting begins

Now we wait, watching the lines from the comfort of the heated cabin. Tony tells us about the Sturgeon Conservation Society’s tagging study, of which he is an active participant. When a fish is caught for the first time, a microchip is inserted into the fish, which is used to monitor and assess these endangered fish.

I'd never battled a dinosaur before

A bite! There is a pull on the line and Tony jumps into action. He sets the hook and hands the reel off to me. I immediately realize how hard this is going to be. It is raining hard and my weak arms are burning within a few minutes. “Only another hour”, Tony says, laughing as I reel in, wince, reel in, wince. After watching me struggle for long enough, Tony gives me a couple of pointers. The first thing he says is to keep the arm you are holding the reel with straight, using the body for leverage rather than putting all the strain on your arms. Another is to not fight when the fish is swimming away from you; there is nothing you can do at this point. When the fish gets tired, pull up on the reel to create slack and then let the reel down, bringing in line as you go. This helps a lot and I start to make some definite progress. Half an hour or so later, the fish is within twenty feet of the boat, and does a little jump out of the water. “That’s got to be a six footer”, Tony says. Holy shit! A couple of minute later it is beside the boat. Tony sets up a hammock kind of setup to lay the fish in when he brings it into the boat to check for a microchip and measure the fish. In one quick movement, he pulls the fish into the boat and I get a look at the pre-historic creature that I have been battling for the last thirty minutes. Tony checks for the chip in it, and finds it has been caught before. It is 6.5 feet long and he estimates its weight at around 150 pounds.

That's what half an hour of hard work looks like.

After posing for my obligatory victory photos, we toss the fish back in and re-set the lines for another one in our group to have their turn.

Owen, Jayne Lloyd-Jones (Spectacular Ink owner), and fishing guide Tony Nootebos.

I returned home that evening one step closer to becoming a man, having fought a dinosaur and won.

Thanks to Spectacular Ink, Tourism Harrison, Harrison Hot Springs Resort and Spa and the B.C. Sport Fishing Group for everything!

Good Morning Sidney Pier

(posted via iPhone)

A beautiful morning here at the Sidney Pier Hotel & Spa. Salt air and the sound of waves. Breakfast of pancakes, sausages and bacon made in our fourth floor room. I just wrapped an interview with the new chef, Ray Elrick (great meal last night), and now we’re on our way to tour Sea Cider Farm & Ciderhouse. Full trip report when we return…

I Hate Missing Ferries

We’re on our way to the Island this morning. We literally just missed the 9am ferry by 30 seconds, and now must wait in the Westfalia until 11am. It’s pouring outside. The kids are restless. Bummer.

When we do arrive, however, we’re driving them straight to grandma’s and tearing right back up the highway to the Sidney Pier Hotel and Spa for two nights. Photos below taken and posted via iPhone in the buffet, midway across the Strait. The quality is what it is…

Two hours…

En route. Buffet with Jack. No hashbrowns? For shame!