Like Casanova seducing the women of Venice, Chives swept into town and ignited the passions of food lovers. All the talk of fresh local ingredients and seasonal menus had foodies talking; being featured on Life Network’s Opening Soon brought huge amounts of publicity, and the bistro was off and running. But that was almost five years ago (December 2001), and I wondered if the flames were still burning.
I will confess to having had doubts about the longevity of Chives, located as it is toward the middle of Barrington on one of the less-travelled blocks. No parking and a walk-up to the second-floor dining room didn’t seem all that convenient in such a fickle business.
Once you do make it up the lovely, gently curving wooden staircase, it’s a beautiful restaurant. A fireplace on one end, deep flame-coloured walls and light wooden floors make for a dramatic and intimate space. They’ve added a private dining room on the front, a bright airy space perfect for parties.
I especially like the “wine cellar,” a room with a table for four that once served as a bank vault. Decorated with wall sconces and wine bottles, this space could be very romantic (if a little claustrophobic).
We start our meal with the “hot pot” (soup of the day, $6.99) and the pan-fried Annapolis Feta Cheese ($8.99). Someone in the kitchen loves asparagus, for this soup does justice to the spring vegetable—intensely flavoured, garnished with creme fraiche and is that parsley oil? Divine. The feta, a triangle of golden browned cheese, sits atop a compote of tomatoes, cucumber, peppers, olives and vinaigrette, a Greek salad of unique architecture, the flavours of the Mediterranean created with local ingredients.
On to our main courses, the salmon ($22.99) and pork tenderloin ($21.99). The salmon is a large (almost too large) filet, tender and moist, with vegetables and potato hodge-podge. I’m not a mustard pickle fan, which is the condiment that comes with this salmon, but they are fine pickles that I am sure a pickle fan would love.
The pork tenderloin is wrapped in bacon, smoked and served on polenta (baked cornmeal), all on the house barbecue sauce. Another large portion, the pork is served medium and sliced thickly. Polenta is too often served as nothing more than a backdrop for the protein, a bland rubbery chunk of unmemorable blahness, but not here. This polenta is full of sweet corn and laced with the taste of aged cheddar, fulfilling on its own. But it’s the sauce that’s the star of this dish. Smoky, sweet, hard to put a finger on; the taste reminds me of a Mexican manchamantel (literally, “tablecloth stainer”) sauce, only lighter on the chipotles (smoked jalapenos). It cries out for more of the warm tea biscuits (with which we began our meal) to sop up every drop.
When chef Craig Flinn and pastry chef Darren Lewis, the owners, opened Chives their wish was to create “an extraordinary casual dining experience,” with seasonal, fresh ingredients and high-quality food and service. So often such intense passion burns out, unable to be sustained, and like old lovers, we part ways with bittersweet regret at what might have been.
It is exhausting to stick unwaveringly with a vision, and the fact that Flinn and Lewis have kept the fires burning at Chives is nothing short of remarkable.
Chives Canadian Bistro1537 Barrington Street 420-9626 Nightly 5-9:30pm
Keep the fires burning with Liz Feltham on the web: www.foodcritic.ca
This article appears in May 11-17, 2006.
This column is so often a source of misinformation about food that I’m becoming really annoyed. Polenta is cornmeal mush or porridge, not “baked cornmeal.” Sometimes polenta is cooled, cut into shapes and then fried or baked. And if you are going to keep making claims about the “authenticity” of so-called “Asian” food, it would help if you didn’t refer to all of it as “Chinese.” The fact that Jean’s serves teriyaki does not make teriyaki Chinese. It would be nice if, when you are reviewing something you ordered off the Korean section of a sushi place, you didn’t refer to it as “Chinese” (the dish you were referring to is actually Chinese-Korean, but you don’t mention anything about this). Do your homework on the cuisine, or don’t talk about it.
To “tired of misinformation”–if you’re annoyed by Feltham’s writing, don’t read it. You’re refering to articles months old, and you still keep reading–move on, there are other food reviewers. Do your homework, and if you don’t like what you’re reading, stop reading it.
Not sure what authenticities you are talking about but I am an experienced Asian cook and have never seen inaccuracies in this column about Asian cuisine.
To “Feltham Fan”: The first example I gave was from the article I was responding to. I figured a few more examples were in order, so I gave some more. I do do my homework. I read lots of other sources on restaurants, food, cooking, and food culture besides Liz Feltham. I cook a lot, and I eat in lots of different restaurants in lots of different places. That’s part of the reason I know what polenta is, in spite of the fact that I don’t get paid to write about food. What annoys me about Feltham is not that I’m forced to read her column, or that her writing is exceptionally bad. I’m annoyed that she presents herself as an authority on “food-in-general” when she very obviously only knows about some kinds of food. Some of her reviews are okay (usually the ones about pubs). The big problem is her reviews of food and restaurants from specific cultures, because she very regularly imparts information to her readers that is completely misleading and/or inaccurate. For example, if you had never tried polenta and didn’t know what it was, after reading the Chives review, you would have an inaccurate understanding of polenta. The fried chicken review was horrendous. Many cuisines have versions of fried chicken, and some information about this would have been interesting. But most importantly, fried chicken is one of the most important dishes in Southern American cuisine. After reading Feltham’s piece, you might actually believe that the best fried chicken comes from KFC. If you don’t think it is important to attend to such details, then you won’t care. But Feltham presents herself not only as someone who does care about learning details of specific cuisines, but as someone who is in a position to teach others about such things. She is affronted when she goes to a Chinese restaurant and she realises that the family that owns the restaurant is eating something that is not offered on the menu, and is told that they make different food for Westerners. But the offerings at so-called ethnic restaurants would be better and more “authentic” if people-in-general had more knowledge about different cultures’ cuisines. Without reading Liz Feltham, diners would be at worst ignorant. After reading Feltham, diners are often at risk of being confused. This has the potential to make the dining situation in Halifax worse, which can affect any diner (whether she reads Feltham’s columns or not).
To Chopstix: The points about authenticity were Feltham’s, not mine. In different reviews of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, and Thai food, Feltham has discussed whether the food is “authentic,” and implied that she prefers “authentic” food. I find this problematic, given that she does things like call a dish “Chinese” when she is talking about a Korean dish. She also raved about a North American-style Japanese dish, which is served at a restaurant that she praised for it’s “authentic” Chinese food. If she simply praised food that I think is bad or mediocre (she also does that a lot), I would be happy to admit that taste is subjective. However, her pretense about “authenticity” is grating at best and offensive at worst. As an Asian cook, you might recognise other merits in her writing on Asian food, and I am open to this possibility. I am not sure if you are Asian, too. I am Chinese. From my perspective, one bad thing about Feltham is that she contributes to the trend in Western food culture of lumping together several distinct cuisines by calling them “Asian”. The other night, I watched a friend make the mistake of ordering a snack of “tempura.” He was served huge, raw chunks of carrot, coated with a thick layer of greasy breadcrumbs. I guess the little dish of sesame-oil laced hoisin was supposed to make it “Asian.” That’s ridiculous, but restaurants get away with it, with no help from Feltham. Okay, so this is not entirely her fault. But, much worse, she perpetuates the false assumption that it is acceptable to think that everything “Asian” is Chinese. This is not just ridiculous, it’s pretty offensive.
Rock on misinformation dude!