I Love You Goats....

Taken at Maplewood Farm in North Vancouver.

Stamps Landing Pub, a Farewell Letter

Dear Stamps Landing Pub,

You were one of my favourite places to visit in the whole city. With your delicious brunch (hello Huevos Rancheros) or your perfectly battered fish and chips and your beautiful sea-side location. From our table in the window we could watch all the runners and cylists and families out enjoying the day while enjoying a mid-day beer. We could see the marina filled with boats and their owners with their dogs preparing them for a day out on the ocean.

You had character. Walls decorated with wood panelling and carpeting from sometime in the 80's. Little nautical embellishments that matched the chrome railings. And that unmistakable odour of stale booze. After a while we started to recognize the regulars that came every week. I remember the time that we watched in amazement the elderly couple sitting by the window finish off two bottles of wine before one o'clock in the afternoon. Incredible.

Generally there was one bartender and one waitress on for the entire restaurant so the service was less than exemplary. But that too was part of your charm. The best part was your chilled out, relaxed and unpretentious atmosphere and that is getting hard to come by in this city of ours.

I didn't realize that that brunch in April was the last time I would see you as Stamps Landing Pub. One day we arrived at your doors and were greeted by a sign that stated you were closed for renovations but would be open late that summer. I was disappointed but excited to see the new changes when you re-opened.

So we waited for you to open so we could go back to our favourite haunt and take our friends to enjoy another perfect sunny day of people watching, fried food and beer. But our waiting was in vain.

One day a friend told me that she was walking past and checked to see if all the renovations were finished. They were but you had been renamed and replaced with the Wicklow Pub. It appeared that your owners had sold you to someone else.

Hoping that they had retained some of your former charm in this reinvention we decided to pay a visit. We went in and sat down. Gone were all the nautical knick knacks and the worn carpet, the delicious home-made hot sauce and the cheesy 80's music. They had been replaced with a new, more expensive menu, top 40 hits being played on the sound system and a slick more "Vancouver" look. We ordered drinks but I was so distraught and couldn't find anything on the menu that I insisted to my companion that we leave.

I still think of you on those sunny weekend days when a walk and then a bite to eat is in order. Or on those nights where my friends and I want to go out to a nice pub for a drink. We have found a new place now to go to hang out with friends for drinks or brunch or dinner. But you will be the standard to which I compare them all, Stamps Landing Pub.

Moody

This is what the weather has been like as of late. I took this picture yesterday while walking across the Granville Bridge. I am so ready for sunshine.

Buntzen Lake - Port Moody, BC

Taken at Buntzen Lake an extremely popular man-made lake and recreation area about a 45 minute drive from Vancouver, just outside Port Moody.

Poutine is good.

When my boyfriend and I first met he had recently moved to Vancouver from London, England. He had also just discovered the National cuisine of Canada, poutine. There were many nights, after an evening imbibing with friends that we would set off in search of this new culinary discovery. It seemed that he couldn't get enough. (possible cause of eventually buying a new wardrobe of jeans & trousers, 1 size larger).

We would navigate through drunken, scantily clad and slickly dressed crowds of of Vancouverites on the wet, dark streets to our cheese & gravy-covered destination. Happily squishing into a booth or lining up and rubbing our fingers together while waiting for someone to take our order.

The variations are endless. Classic with beef gravy and real cheese curds (from Fritz's European Fry House), or vegetarian covered in mushroom gravy with sharp cheddar (at the Templeton) , on a plate or in a basket or styrofoam container, fries home-made, from frozen or yam. When our order arrived we dug in with gusto trying to soak up the alcohol from 4 micro brewery beers and the random shot ordered by one of our peers (Marcus) consumed earlier in the evening. Now warm and full and very sleepy we would clamber back onto the streets in hopes of a quick taxi ride home.