Chef Vish Mayekar (formerly La Tana, Pepino’s, and Elio Volpe), together with Hassib Sarwari and Winnie Sun (Zarak), officially opened doors to Elem, at 2110 Main Street, last week.
It’s taken me a while to figure out how to write about Elem. I’ve had the privilege of watching it transform from empty concrete shell to construction site and, finally, into a fully realized restaurant. I’ve seen the team assemble, one by one, and tasted the menu as it took shape, dish by dish. But despite all of this access, I’ve been struggling to articulate Elem’s vision in a way that does it justice.
It wasn’t until I went in for a “doors-open-to-the-public” service last Thursday (November 21st) that everything finally came into focus, and I could appreciate the finished product, rather than just its individual parts. In the end, I think waiting was the right call. Sitting in Elem’s dining room, alive with conversation (most of it about the food), I felt the final (fifth?) element clicking into place.
The Elem experience begins by stepping through a dark foyer, leaving behind the rush of Main Street and emerging into the almost-3,000-square-foot, 76-seat restaurant, which is divided into three subtly defined spaces. These areas are distinguished from each other not by physical barriers so much as through the understated use of details – including colour palettes, materials, pony walls, shelving and glass partitions – creating clear transitions while also maintaining a cohesive flow.
The ‘Wood Room’, located to the right as you enter, blends soft and structured elements with the slight warmth of wood tables, walls and floors, to create a grounded and tactile feeling. Next, the polished concrete, marble tables and white walls of the ‘Air Room’ provide an apropos “open” feeling. Custom-built lighting fixtures run the length of the ceiling, casting a slightly unsettling, neutral light that accentuates the room’s sleek surfaces. In contrast with the bright and sharp lines of the Air Room, the deeper textures and smoky blue tones of the adjacent ‘Water Room’ provides hints of the ‘water’ element – but only if you’re looking for them.
Overall, although Elem is a confluence of many things — elements, materials, flavours, and cultures — it’s anything but cluttered. The sleek and resolutely modern space offers only a few soft edges to sink into. In fact, I’d describe Elem as having an almost clinical precision. Nothing feels out of place, not even a speck of dust. The design carries a visceral quality that’s hard to pin down, but feels distinctly “un-Vancouver” to me. And, although I’m not exactly sure how to define “un-Vancouver” (perhaps as a shorthand for something unfamiliar and even slightly uncomfortable?), neither descriptor feels wrong for Elem. And I’m fascinated by the way that’s landing with me. This is definitely not the easy comfort of casual fine-dining that I’m used to. It is not a restaurant that borrows warmth or charm from its surroundings, but neither does it try to. The polished design is deliberate. The food and drink are intended to stand entirely on their own.
The Food
For some, blending flavours from across time zones and borders while staying rooted in local ingredients might seem contradictory —it’s certainly a challenge. A menu that resists being boxed into a specific cuisine or style can also disorient diners. But, as I’ve already mentioned, Elem isn’t following an established path. Instead, it’s delivering bold flavours and inviting a sense of adventure. As their website puts it: “Elem is a vision centred on contemporary, local, sustainable food and beverage programs that transcend boundaries of cuisines in our interconnected world.”
Chef Mayekar’s cooking does ‘transcend boundaries’. His style seems to sit at an intersection of tradition and innovation, merging an excitement for ingredients with the experiences and moments that have defined his culinary and personal journeys thus far. Take the Whole Red Sea Bream ($75 – but it serves at least four people), a nod to a memorable meal shared with a friend’s family in Mexico City: one side is painted in green coconut chutney, while the other is ablaze in red adobo. Handmade pastas pay tribute to his time at Caffe La Tana; while the Masala Chai Kulfi evokes the Kulfi of his childhood in Mumbai. Mayekar recalls how the Kulfi man would arrive outside his school, carrying an ice-cream-making contraption on his head, with a cash register at his side (essentially, a truck-less ice cream truck). “Just before school let out, he’d start ringing his bell,” says Mayekar. “We’d all run out with a ‘Hell yeah: school’s out, and now we get Kulfi!’ energy running through our veins. Mango was my favourite.”
The Kulfi made such an impression on Mayekar that, from the very first conversation with his friend and now Elem crew member, Aditya (Eddie) Pawar (formerly of Meo), it was clear the dish had to be on the menu. “Eddie and I both had this experience as kids, and we knew from the start that Kulfi was non-negotiable; a dish meant to capture that same feeling of celebration,” Mayekar says. And, while not mango (for now), judging by the Mulberry and Chai versions that I have enjoyed so far, Elem’s Kulfi delivers.
Other standout dishes include the Venison Tartare ($29), hand-chopped and studded with tiny hits of dill pickle, and served alongside crisp yet pillowy gnocco fritto generously dusted with sumac and garlic ash. When delicately cracked open, the gnocco fritto becomes the perfect vessel for the tartare. The Grilled Lamb Skewers ($38), glazed with Medjool date and served alongside ginger labneh and buckwheat, balances boldness with restraint; whereas the Dungeness Crab Toast ($36) piles a generous portion of crab on milk bread, achieving a delicate harmony between freshness and indulgence by dousing it with a lemongrass-ginger sauce and a sprinkling of chives.
It’s also worth noting that vegetables are not an afterthought at Elem. The Barbecued Carrots ($18) are plump and smoky with a slight spicy kick, tempered beautifully by cool smoked yoghurt and mandarin kosho. I will order these every time I visit. The Cone Cabbage ($19), paired with Taleggio fondue, beef nduja and a Meyer lemon crumb, delivers a savoury complexity that, when combined with the aforementioned carrots, creates a perfectly satisfying meal — no need to even consider adding more meat. And if, once discovered, the Squash Caramelle ($32) served with chanterelle mushrooms and miso beurre blanc, ever leaves the menu, protests are likely to follow.
Not everything is elaborate. The fried rice delivers a medley of textures and just the right amount of heat, proving that even the simplest dishes at Elem are executed with precision and care. Reflecting on a recent exchange, Mayekar recalls asking a table about their favourite dish. One guest almost apologetically named the fried rice — seemingly hesitant to celebrate something so straightforward. “But why apologize?” Mayekar counters. “It’s on the menu for a reason. I want it to be a favourite. Honestly, my hope is that in the future, this guest will lose the ‘apologetic’ tone and just call it the best fried rice at one of Vancouver’s best restaurants.”
No one who has met Mayekar would be surprised to hear the ambition behind that statement.
The Drinks
Mayekar isn’t the only driven personality at Elem. Beverage Director Winnie Sun brings her own ambitious vision to the table via a zero-waste cocktail lab that transforms overlooked or discarded ingredients (think fruit and vegetable peels, and leftover spices) into complex, multi-layered creations. Also inspired by the four elements, each drink reflects Sun’s relentless curiosity and perfectionist approach. As a bartender, she pursues deceptively simple creations that deliver complexity, holding herself to an almost impossible standard. But when she nails it, the results shine — and so does her pride, even if she tries to conceal it. For cocktail enthusiasts, the payoff is undeniable.
I’m a lightweight when it comes to booze, so although I haven’t made it through the entire drink menu (yet), I’ve already got my favourites, so far. These include the “Mexican Coca Cola” ($26), a beautifully balanced mix of Adictivo Añejo, Mezcal, house-made Mexican Coke syrup, mole, and pineapple-rind tepache, served over a perfectly square ice cube and topped with an off-centre saffron gummy crown. This playful yet polished cocktail channels warmth and richness, and therefore can be found on the ‘Earth’ section of the drinks menu. I also enjoyed the not-too-sweet “Duck Fried Rice” ($21), from the ‘Fire’ section (spice, passion, energy and adventure), which combines Duck Fat Washed Gin, Kimchi Maraschino, Rice Milk, Sweet Potato, and Thyme. Also from the Fire section is the inspired “Best Tacos Pepe” ($21), featuring Concha Tequila, Lacto-Fermented Pineapple, Cilantro, Lime, and Clarified Evaporated and Condensed Milk. Finally, the “Build Your Own Chai” ($20), from the dessert menu, is a fun presentation featuring 2oz house made chai liqueur with tea biscuit milk – a nice accompaniment to the Sweet Potato Churro with miso vanilla ice cream and quince marmalade.
THE TAKEAWAY
From a design perspective, Elem leans toward stark minimalism. There are no candles, flowers or decorative knick-knacks to distract the eye or fill in the space illuminated by its disconcertingly flat lighting. This stripped-back ambiance feels unfamiliar, and the menu follows suit. If you’ve been wondering, “Why is everyone talking about Elem?” the answer lies somewhere in this deliberate departure from the expected, and I think this is a good thing.
Stepping off-script with a restaurant concept means abandoning the playbook and embracing uncertainty. It’s a gamble that demands raw confidence — maybe even cockiness — and the kind of talent that thrives under pressure. Mayekar is both confident and talented. But he is also humble and committed to learning new things every day. I respect that. He has a clear vision, and is willing to pour everything he has into realizing it, but he is also the first to acknowledge the critical role of his partners, and his kitchen crew – Sous Chef Brent Thornton (Good Thief, St. Lawrence), Eddie Pawar (Meo), Pranav Palande (Anna Lena), Maika B. (La Tana), Jake L. and Jacobo P. (both from Pepino’s), Victoria Harwood (who moved to Vancouver from Ontario to work at Elem), and Sal Ashenaei – in making that happen.
Sun, with her unique blend of playfulness and precision, is equally integral. But to overlook Sarwari’s contribution to the big picture here would be a miscalculation. If the three partners behind Elem were elements, Sun and Mayekar would embody ‘Fire’: intense, ambitious, and always pushing boundaries and, by contrast, Sarwari brings balance to the equation by embodying the calmness of ‘Water’ and steadiness of ‘Earth’, keeping their shared vision focused and cohesive. He has clearly spent the last three years at Zarak mastering both sides of the restaurant ‘coin’, by running efficient operations and delivering hospitality with deep warmth and sincerity, but Sarwari doesn’t naturally gravitate to the spotlight, so it might not be immediately apparent that his stable energy and ability to navigate almost anything that comes at him with diplomacy and composure now forms a crucial foundation for Elem’s success. Together, they have built something special.
If you have a genuine curiosity for food, drink, and culture (as well as the financial means) then I encourage you to check your predispositions about dining and pay a visit to Elem. It isn’t inexpensive, but that’s because the menu prices reflect the true cost of quality ingredients, environmental responsibility, and fair labour. And, once you’ve ditched your hang-ups, the way to get the most out of your meal is simply by immersing yourself in the details, and asking about the spices, techniques, and (most of all) backstories behind what you’re eating and drinking. While Elem’s food and drinks speak for themselves, the context enriches the experience — if you let it.
Elem is open every Tuesday through Saturday, from 5-11pm. Reservations are recommended and can be made here; however, walk-ins are also always welcome.