Moratorium On The Word “Über” (It’s For Your Own Good)

The Ottawa Citizen (really The Vancouver Sun – just regurgitated back east) gives us the “lowdown” on the new Loden Hotel:

Its hip interiors, created by an award-winning San Francisco design firm, were designed to appeal to business travellers with a keen sense of style — movers and shakers in the entertainment, design and fashion industries, the kind of people who wouldn’t think twice about spending $750 for a pair of designer jeans.

And they’ll get style in spades at the Loden. There’s nothing bland or boring here — from bottom to top, the hotel exudes post-modern chic.

The otherwise understated lobby gets a hit of drama from a double-sided zebra onyx fireplace, which also fronts into the lounge of the 80-seat Voya restaurant headed by executive chef Marc-André Choquette, formerly of the top-rated Lumière.

In the compact guest rooms, a chocolate brown marble floor segues into boldly patterned carpeting, set off by a punchy orange velvet chaise and sleek Scandinavian-style wood cabinets.

Adding an über-cool touch is a sliding wall that lets you open up the streamlined bathroom to the sleeping area.

And you’ll know for sure you’re in the city where Lululemon was born when you open the hall closet — inside, you’ll find a yoga mat, which will come in handy when you tune in the all-yoga channel on the flat-screen TV.

In the piece, reporter Joanne Blaine had me until she employed the “über” gambit, a relatively new journalistic device used to aggrandise one’s hip cred. I’m no arbiter of etymological exactitude, but I do know that usage of this German word (from the Latin super and the English over, as in “overlord”) in everyday conversations (and writings) of people over the age of 18 is done, like Betamax, Atkins, and The West Wing. Though marginally tolerable a few years ago, even in print, I suspect it’s now an unflattering badge of squareness, especially with the cool kids. I certainly bit my lip, and I’m so far from cool that using über in a sentence would be the least of my worries. Just sayin’ is all. No hard feelings.

Food Media Omnibus #258

Welcome back to the Food Media Omnibus, a collection of local food media stories that have caught my eye on the internets this week. Feast up, my lovelies, and don’t forget to tip your server…

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In the Globe and Mail, Alexandra Gill gets her knives out and goes to town on the reincarnation of Crime Lab, the new restaurant at the foot of Denman in Coal Harbour (the original Crime Lab was in the Pender flat-iron building, It closed four years ago).

When the restaurant opened last summer, the kitchen was run by chef Shahab Ghaemi-Zadeh, another Crime Lab alumnus. I visited in mid-September and was impressed by a couple of his Persian-inspired dishes, which stood out temptingly from the usual pub-grub suspects. The grilled lamb lollipops ($14) were juicy and nicely charred, the plate scattered with roasted pistachios and drizzled with a snappy mint-pistachio pesto. For dessert, drunken figs ($9) were stewed in port and cognac, served with a crunchy pistachio gelato and sweet fig glaze.

I remember wishing the menu had taken a more serious stab at this Iranian vein, instead of slashing around the globe and slaughtering so many of the basics. Dungeness crab cakes ($14) were stuffed with filler; free-range chicken breast ($21) was dry and served with a mushroom risotto that must have been built from the same tasteless broth as the Spanish paella ($21).

Quick Q&A with chef David Hawksworth in the Globe.

In Whistler’s Pique, we learn that Citta Bistro, an icon of sorts in the mountain town’s main square (been there 25 years), is “fighting to survive“.

Wishing I was in Tofino:

It’s time to get your slurp on for the 12th annual Clayoquot Sound Oyster Festival. The weekend that celebrates West Coast oysters kicks off Thursday and runs straight through until the sold-out gala event on Saturday night.

Whipping out his periscope: Malcolm Parry gets the low down on Chambar’s upcoming cooking school in the Sun.

Voya at the Loden gets good marks from Sun critic Mia Stainsby.

The Province has more on council’s “no” vote on the Opus Hotel’s plans for a rooftop restaurant. I’m still totally bumfuzzled as to the why on this. It’s embarrassing.

Deana Lancaster reviews North Vancouver’s Gusti di Quattro in the North Shore News.

In the Westender, I review Motomachi Shokudo, a little ramen place from Daiji Matsubura on Denman that I can never get enough of. If you’ve never been before, go.

And finally, The National Post tries to make sense of an imaginary Boulud-Vongerichten-Feenie drama troika, with eyebrow raising results:

So, if Jean-Georges is friends with Boulud, and he’s also friends with the guy whose kitchen Boulud took over from, what does it all mean? Maybe nothing. But one thing’s for certain: Neither camaraderie nor intrigue is in short order in Vancouver’s whimsy-packed resto-scene!

Let’s hear it for whimsy (and Toronto).

Swoosh! Gong! And we’re done…

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