8 August 2007
All Aboard for a Hearty, Extravagant Ride
Vancouver's Canadian Pacific Railway station - 1905.
Vancouver British Columbia - I am in love with Vancouver's
new TransContinental Heritage Restaurant & Railway Lounge.
It wasn't necessarily the food that swept me off my feet, although the Canadian classics on the menu are refreshingly simple, hearty,
and comforting.
Nor was it the service, which is young and somewhat awkward, yet endearingly earnest and relatively competent for a city in which
skilled wait staff are in short supply.
What really took my breath away was the room - an elegant renovation in the old Canadian Pacific Railway terminus at Waterfront
Station.
With its neoclassical lines, majestic arched windows, art-deco swirls, and grand sense of romance from a bygone era, the
TransContinental is a showpiece that really wows.
The restaurant is located in the eastern end of the station, an area originally used as the ladies' waiting room when the building
opened in 1917. In 1976, when VIA Rail Canada Inc. took over passenger operations and rerouted trains to Pacific Central Station, the
quadrant was boarded up and used for office space.
The landmark building, now more commonly known as the SeaBus terminal, is owned by the Ontario Teachers Pension Fund and managed by
Cadillac Fairview Corp. But the restaurant, which opened on 14 Jul 2007, is entirely the vision of Eli Gershkovitch,
founder and president of the neighbouring Steamworks brew pub. With architects Soren Rasmussen and Malcolm Candler, Mr. Gershkovitch
has designed a space that whisks you back to the golden age of rail travel.
All aboard!
The TransContinental is big, nearly 7,500 square feet with 300-plus seats, but feels surprisingly intimate. We enter
through a lounge that looks like an old club car, with cozy, two-seater booths built into window-side nooks
that look into the station. The hostess seems a little startled to see us. But a bartender in crisp whites, who is polishing glasses
behind an impressively detailed mahogany bar, invokes confidence with a formal nod of acknowledgment.
Around the corner, the space opens up into an elegant ballroom with arched windows, 25-foot ceilings and two gently
curving grand staircases that lead up to a mezzanine. The main floor boasts spacious semi-circular booths, tons of wood
trim, original art-deco light fixtures, and Group of Seven oil paintings (identifying plaques would be a nice addition).
It's all very plush and inviting - except for the floodlights beaming in from the sidewalk patio. The glare is blinding and must be
fixed.
As befits the romance of the room, the cocktail menu is stacked with classic elixirs - sidecars, shaken margaritas, and stiff gin
martinis unsullied by silly fruits. The wine list is fairly standard and could feature more local wines by the glass. Our server is not
familiar with any of the bottles we inquire about and doesn't bother to send over a sommelier or bartender who might assist us. Still,
there's something oddly reassuring about the awkwardness of his service. He is very nice, very polite, very - um, Canadian.
As is the food. The menu is a familiar journey from coast to coast. It features Nova Scotia lobster, PEI mussels,
smoked-meat sandwiches (for lunch), Alberta prime rib (on weekends), and cedar-planked wild salmon. Executive
chef Cale Price, who trained at Le Crocodile, hasn't included anything too trendy or weird. It's comfort food for the masses. And,
mostly, very well executed from the basement kitchen. Although there does seem to be some confusion down there.
For appetizers, we order deep-fried oysters ($13.95). The server returns. The dish is not available. A manager intervenes
and suddenly it is. Thank goodness. The small oysters are lightly dusted in a white, cornmeal coating and flash fried so they're still
juicy. They're served in the shell on a bed of herbed aioli.
Grande Prairie bison carpaccio ($14.95) is just as lovely. The paper-thin slices of apple-smoked tenderloin
come with a smattering of olives, shaved pecorino cheese, and roasted garlic. A basket of warm bread unfortunately costs an additional
$3.95.
Lobster thermidor has already been taken off the menu. "It just wasn't working," our server obliquely explains. We settle for
lobster poutine ($9.95), which is probably the most unusual item on the menu. But it works. The bowl of thin-cut fries,
chock full of lobster, is doused with thick bisque and topped with melting slices of creamy brie.
Grilled lamb ($33.95) is a lip-smacking trio of rosemary sausage (from Granville Island's Oyama),
lemon-marinated tender (free-range Opal Valley from Australia) and a luscious double chop with a crusty layer
of flavourful fat. With roasted potatoes, crisp asparagus, and a full-bodied Okanagan merlot demi-glace, it
is a perfectly satisfying dish.
Not so much the seared ahi tuna tataki ($27.95). The steak is ice-cold on top and barely grilled on the bottom. Perhaps it
could be sliced more thinly or seared at higher heat.
Desserts are worth squeezing in. The chocolate fondant ($8) is a moist slice of heaven, served with sinfully rich
white-chocolate gelato (from Mario's). Apple pie ($7) weighs in at a sweet pound per slice.
At the end of the night, I'm reluctant to leave. We're curled up in a big, round booth. Cole Porter is swinging in the background. I
can imagine Dal Richards perched upstairs, serenading the room with his big-band orchestra. I wonder if the City of
Vancouver will ever license the adjacent lobby of the station for a special event. Let's hope.
The TransContinental is the type of restaurant that tourists will flock to. I hope locals do too. It's a room with history. And a place
that should be enjoyed by everyone.
The TransContinental Heritage Restaurant & Railway Lounge,
601 West Cordova St.
604 678-8000
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