With only 94 hours in a city we’d never visited together, our 45-minute wait for a dumplings order could have been a poor investment of precious time.
But we requested the off-menu No. 7 at Blnd Tger in Vancouver’s Chinatown and crossed the street to an Irish pub that was so used to such visitors that it featured a cocktail called “Waiting For #7.” Early into a second drink, our notification arrived via text: “Your dumplings are ready!!!”
Our order granted us passage through Blnd Tger’s innocuous walk-in fridge door into the appropriately cool world of Laowai, a speakeasy with expertly crafted, creatively presented concoctions and, yes, dumplings that more than justified the enthusiastic punctuation in the text.
The revelations behind that door were among the several we packed into a long weekend in Vancouver made attractive by affordable, direct flights from LAX and a desire to experience a bit of the seasons without, you know, being too cold. My wife and I watched a handful of YouTube videos by travelers we’ve learned to trust and followed our unspoken rule of talking to locals and taking their advice.
We took our well-tested adventure approach of seeking out great food, fun bars, high spots for views and sunsets wherever we could find them. In three full days and change, we dined at a Michelin-starred restaurant, imbibed in two of Canada’s top-ranked bars, rode an aquabus to an island, journeyed in a mountain gondola in search of rescued grizzlies and embraced local culture: hockey.
One of our first and best decisions about the trip was to avoid renting a car. That limited our ability to explore too far out of downtown, of course, but a day trip to Whistler — especially for nonskiers who find late fall in Southern California cold — would’ve cut into too much of our time. It also would’ve kept us from exploring as much of the city as we did on foot.
Sure, we ventured into a few blocks that won’t make any Visit Vancouver commercials, but we were assured by one local that we were safe. “No one’s going to bother you,” the waiter said. “It’s just a matter of how much reality you want to see.” And we saw plenty — but not too much — during our daytime walk from the waterfront Science World across from our hotel to Gastown, the home of Victorian buildings, cobblestone streets and a steam clock my father-in-law assured us had been around a long time.
It turned out that it was installed to cover a steam grate in 1977 — you know, eight years after I was born — so clearly we’d wandered into the newer, hip part of Vancouver.
Michelle and I had plenty of options for our lone Saturday night in Vancouver, from fine dining to the arts. We chose hockey. Upper-bowl, center-ice, second-row seats were available on the secondary market for $65 each — one of many times we found everything a bit more affordable than at home — and we betrayed our Southern California loyalties to become Canucks fans for the night. It helped that even in the packed Rogers Arena (capacity 19,700), there were no lines for food or drinks because there were so many options.
We didn’t eat much during the Canucks’ victory over Columbus, however, because we had plans for dumplings. Sorry, dumplings! After a 20-minute walk to Blnd Tger/Laowai, strategically avoiding the “reality” we witnessed earlier, and a 45-minute wait helped build our appetites, we were rewarded with two types of dumplings: ground bison turmeric and pork with Sichuan chili oil.
The dumplings, of course, were only part of the draw, and everywhere we looked in Laowai we saw cocktails with elaborate presentations being sipped by delighted patrons. On the menu, the Via Galaxie looked a little out of my taste profile — amaro, Scotch, raspberry, tea and lemon juice — but it was served on an illuminated stand featuring an astronaut and apparently was inspired by a 14th-century Chinese legend about a man named Wan Hu and his attempts to reach space.
I was sold, and the creation was almost as entertaining as my drink-holding spaceman with a story.
By the time we left Chinatown, it was clear an early morning wasn’t in our plans. It rarely is when we travel. Besides, Granville Island was full of local residents and tourists when we arrived by aquabus around lunchtime to explore the Public Market, including quaint shops — need a broom, hit the Granville Island Broom Co. — and a diverse selection of food that matched the multicultural region.
On the chilly afternoon, we opted for the chicken noodle soup from The Stock Market and the chicken pot pie from A La Mode a few steps away, grabbed seats at a table we shared with two strangers and enjoyed the conversation as much as the comfort food. One of the women had lived in Vancouver for more than 30 years but planned to move soon to be near family; the other arrived in the city three years ago from Hong Kong and mostly loved it.
“There have been too many people moving here in the past five years,” she said without a hint of irony.
After a short visit to the Granville Island Brewing taproom for a flight of local beers, we enjoyed what turned out to be a private aquabus ride back on the picturesque False Creek inlet toward our hotel to rest a bit and change for dinner at Published on Main, where the list of accolades set expectations high:
• One Michelin star, 2022-25;
• Canada’s best restaurant in 2022 (currently No. 9), according to Canada’s 100 Best;
• No. 28 on the list of North America’s 50 Best Restaurants.
Our early moments in Published on Main produced mixed results. We had to wait a bit for our table, which wasn’t a problem yet led to a refreshing alcohol-free drink they brought us for the minor inconvenience. But my antennae started buzzing after we ordered. When my wife excused herself for a few minutes, our server placed our cocktails and first course on the table rather than wait for her to return. It’s a small thing, but something I’d be shocked to witness at a Southern California restaurant of similar renown.
That was the only blip in an otherwise exquisite meal, though. We opted for a la carte rather than try to survive the 10-course tasting menu, and our server guided us with flawless recommendations. From the foie gras presented as a mini energy bar to the roasted duck, everything we tried delivered robust flavors that took us by surprise. The standout, however, was the Pacific octopus with red and green harissa, pine nuts and a cassoulet.
Published on Main lived up to the hype; unfortunately, our visit the next day to Grouse Mountain didn’t. I blame the weather and our timing, not the mountain, but we saw little during a downpour on our gondola ride that lasted a mile and lifted us 2,800 feet in elevation. Our search for rescued grizzlies was fruitless; they apparently are smarter than the average tourist and stayed out of the rain. And we briefly got lost. All for $82 Canadian each (about $58). At least we got a breathtaking view of Vancouver when the clouds finally parted … on our gondola ride down the mountain.
Our stop at Stanley Park — OK, the Stanley Park Brewpub — for more local libations eased some of the sting from our mountain misadventure, and our walk along the English Bay seawall took us to a perfect spot to capture our best sunset of the trip.
That could’ve been an ideal way to end our mini-vacation, but we still had time remaining on our 94-hour countdown and made the most of it. Dinner at Carlino near Canada Place and the cruise port was every bit as delicious as a local truffle importer — who was born in Italy — assured us it would be, and we had just enough energy to squeeze in another recommended spot.
On a Monday night, The Keefer Bar, a long, narrow gem that holds maybe 70 inside, buzzed with laughter and conversations the layout guaranteed would be overheard. A musician provided an accompaniment that skewed toward classic rock, and the apothecary theme carried from the decor to the menu.
And when one section of drinks was loosely tied to movie quotes, I knew I’d found my new favorite travel bar, a distinction previously held by The Lodge in Chicago (every sports reporter’s go-to joint) and, more recently, the speakeasy Tur 7 in Vienna, where cocktail wizards practice their craft based on each person’s tastes.
The Keefer Bar was our penultimate revelation in a long weekend full of them.
The final one came as we departed for our three-hour flight and realized that Vancouver had everything we wanted and more than we possibly could do in a short stay, leaving us many wonders to discover when we return.