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The best fish & chips in Steveston

Thursday, August 9, 2012 in Canada, Richmond

Pajo's fish & chips in Steveston, BC

Pajo's on the wharf which some say has the best fish & chips in Steveston. Photos by David Lansing.

It probably won’t surprise you that Steveston Village is known for their fish & chips. I asked Mijune which was the best, thinking I’d try it out for lunch. But Mijune never has a single “best.” It always depends on the circumstances. I told her I’d heard that Pajo’s, which has been around for over 25 years, is widely considered the best. “It’s good,” she said without much enthusiasm. “They’ve won a lost of ‘best of’ awards and they’re always busy.”

“But it’s not your favorite.”

“I like it,” she said diplomatically. “But maybe I like Sockeye City better.”

“Maybe you like it better?”

“Sometimes.” She paused and looked out over the ocean. “But sometimes, if I’m just going to get takeout, I’ll go to Dave’s.”

This was going to make lunch difficult. Should I just pick one of the fish & chips joints or try all three? I figured maybe I should check all of them out and then decide. So first I went to Pajo’s. And Mijune was right—the place was jammin’. So much so that it looked like it might be 15 or 20 minutes before I could even order. So Pajo’s was out.

Sockeye City in Steveston

Fish & chips at Sockeye City. Photo by David Lansing.

Then I went to Sockeye City. Cute place. Right across from the Fisherman’s Wharf. I could eat my fish & chips under an umbrella outside and watch while people bought fresh halibut or shrimp or sea urchins from the fisherman on the dock below.

A young couple was doing exactly that so I interrupted their meal and asked them how the fish & chips were. “Really good,” said the guy, his mouth full of flaky halibut. The woman nodded. The portions were huge. They both had three big pieces of fish on their plate and enough fries to feed a family of four. All on a glass plate shaped like a fish. Very nice.

Then I wandered down the village a few blocks until I found Dave’s Fish & Chips. Again, very busy. On the side of the building, next to the parking lot, was their takeout window. Besides the fish & chips you could get an oyster burger (never had one of those) and poutine! Now I was overwhelmed with choices. I started thinking that maybe I should just get a single piece of fish at each of the three fish & chip shops and see who had the best. But, to be fair, I’d really have to also give the chips, wouldn’t I? I mean, you can’t decide who has the best fish & chips just eating the fish.

But that oyster burger was sounding kind of interesting. And what about the poutine? I haven’t had poutine in ages. Maybe I could just taste the oyster burger and poutine and then check out the fish & chips.

Menu at Dave's Fish & Chips, Steveston

The Take Out board at Dave's.

I was standing at the counter trying to figure out what to do when Mijune walked in the door at Dave’s Fish & Chips.

“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. We’ve got to go.”

“But I haven’t ordered yet.”

She shrugged. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got an appointment. We need to get back.”

So we left Dave’s. And Steveston. And I still don’t know who has the best fish & chips in Richmond.
Pajo's Fish & Chips (The Steveston Wharf) on Urbanspoon
Sockeye City Grill on Urbanspoon
Dave's Fish & Chips on Urbanspoon

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Quick and easy fish soup

Wednesday, August 8, 2012 in Canada, Richmond

Gulf of Georgia Cannery

Gulf of Georgia Cannery in Richmond's Steveston Village. Photos by David Lansing.

When I look at a map of Richmond it looks to me like the profile of a pig’s head and down at the bottom of the pig’s snout is Steveston Village, which probably should be its own little town but is actually still part of Richmond.

Back in the early 1800s, Steveston was the center of British Columbia’s fish cannery activity (at one point there were 15 canneries here). One of those facilities, the Gulf of Georgia Cannery, which was built in 1894, has been converted into a national museum to commemorate the West Coast fishing industry.

Rule Six: If you drop some fish on the floor, "recondition" it before you stick it back in the can.

Go through it, like I did, and you’re bound to come to two conclusions: Working in a fish cannery was a nasty job and you’ll never eat canned fish again.

They don’t pull any punches here. You see exactly how the fish—mostly salmon—came into the cannery and how it was quickly skinned, gutted, boned, and stuffed in a can. If you’re not grossed out by what was called “the sliming table,” where mostly Chinese and Japanese women, many with babies on their backs (hey, there was no daycare center for cannery workers) would clean the blood and guts from butchered salmon all day long, then just check out the super-duper mechanical wonder that, in mere seconds, could chop the head and tail off a salmon, scale it with a series of spinning brushes, and spit it out on a conveyor belt like a box of chocolates.

And what happened to all those fish heads and guts? Well, there’s a big hole near the sliming table where all the blood and guts were flushed back down to the Fraser River. Just upriver from where the locals pulled out their water for drinking, cooking, and cleaning purposes.

Think how easy it must have been for the locals to make fish soup every night since most of the ingredients came straight out of the tap.

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Love notes in the Wishing Trees

Monday, August 6, 2012 in Canada, Richmond | 1 comment

Wishing Trees, Richmond Night Market

The cherry blossom Wishing Trees at the Richmond Night Market. Photo by David Lansing.

I spent some more time at the Richmond Night Market this weekend (so much food, so little time). The Care for Life Foundation, a charity focused on helping intercity youths in China, has this amazing Wishing Tree Pavilion. They have set up a couple dozen faux cherry blossom trees and if you make a $5 donation, you can write your wish on a piece of paper and hang it on one of the branches of the cherry trees, which look quite spectacular at night.

There are a lot of the usual wishes (“For Peace and Happiness for All”; “I wish everyone to have a great year”) as well as the expected pleas for “me to get through this quarter of college without flunking out” or “to make mom healthy again.”

But the ones I found most evocative were the plaintive love letters: “I wish I can win my love back.” Or my favorite: “Max –For us to meet again in a different place + time.  jen”

It’s like the beginning of a short story or a movie, isn’t it? Can’t you just see this trio of college buds—two roommates and one of the guy’s girlfriend—wandering  around the Night Market and the two guys goes off to get the girl some dim sum and while they’re gone, she writes down her wish and pins it to the tree? And then they all sit under the note and eat their sushi? Without the guy she really loves ever knowing what she’s done? Of course, sooner or later he’d have to find out? Right?

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Spinning along the Highway to Heaven

Sunday, August 5, 2012 in Canada, Richmond | 1 comment

Buddha, Thrangu Monastery

The gold leafed Buddha at the Thrangu Monastery in Richmond. Photos by David Lansing.

Another drive down Richmond’s “Highway to Heaven” today, this time to the Thrangu Monastery, the first traditional Tibetan monastery in Canada.

I tiptoed in to the temple to have a look at their famed gold leafed, 12-foot-tall Buddha (flanked by some 34 smaller buddhas). There was some chanting going on, which made walking around the temple a bit awkward for me. I’d been told that it was perfectly okay to take photos inside the temple, but when you have people sitting around on the floor cross-legged and chanting, you do tend to feel like a bit of a pervert for snapping photos.

Thrangu Monastery, Richmond, BC

The Prayer Wheel at the Thrangu Monastery in Richmond. Photo by David Lansing.

A cheerful monk came over and welcomed me. That helped. He asked if I wanted to join in. I told him I was actually here just to have a look at the temple. “Please,” he said, smiling and waving his arm, “be our guest.”

I asked him what was going on.

It was, he said, a Chenrizika Practice. “The master chants to generate love and compassion.”

Well, that’s always good. We could use a bit more of that around, couldn’t we.

The monk offered to give me a tour. He pointed out the 1,000 Medicine Buddhas in the temple (not each and every one, of course) and then took me outside to show me the temple’s prayer wheel. Each prayer wheel contained mantras written on strips of paper—thousands of copies of Om Mani Padne Hum. “When you spin the prayer wheel, it is like saying the mantra repeatedly,” he said. “Would you like to try it?”

I spun the prayer wheel. I mumbled Om Mani Padne Hum. Sadly, I didn’t really feel any holier afterwards. Not that I ever feel holy to begin with.

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1 Rotato, 2 Rotato, 3 Rotato, 4

Saturday, August 4, 2012 in Canada, Richmond | 1 comment

Rotato at Richmond Night Market

Mijune offering me a bite of her Rotato at the Richmond Night Market. Photo by David Lansing.

I’ve told you that Mijune can eat like she’s a contestant in one of those hot dog chow downs. Last night we went to the Richmond Night Market where there are something like 88 vendors. I was afraid she was going to make me try all of them.

Within minutes she was dragging me over to this vendor called Rotato. “I love these things,” she said, getting in line. “What flavor should we get?”

They had bbq, sour cream & onion, salt & vinegar, roasted garlic & pepper, cheddar cheese, ketchup. Here’s the thing: there were at least 20 people in line ahead of us. And every five minutes, as we edged up a little bit closer to the front, Mijune changed her mind about what flavor she wanted. First it was the cheddar cheese, then the bbq, then the sour cream & onion.

I knew what was going to happen. Mijune ordered all three. “Mijune,” I said, “I’m not even sure I want any. It’s just a potato.”

“It’s not just a potato,” she said, offended. “It’s fabulous.”

Here’s how they make a Rotato: First a woman winds a machine to cut the potatoes into these swirly shapes. Then a guy skewers the potato, fans it out, dips it in a watery batter, and deep fries it. Then a young girl takes the fried swirly potato and puts the seasoning on it. For such a simple concoction, it’s quite a production. No wonder it was taking so long to serve everyone.

So we’re standing at the side and the young woman brings out one Rotato…and then another…and then a third. I held two of them while Mijune sampled.

“The sour cream and onion!” she proclaimed. “That’s the one. Try it”

So I did. And it was pretty damn good.
Richmond Night Market on Urbanspoon

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