Liz Feltham retires as The Coast’s restaurant critic

I’m full. The meal has been great, but the table’s been
cleared and it’s time to push the chair back, get up and walk away.
Eight years of reviewing restaurants and writing about food for this
paper has been an incredible experience, but now it’s time to move on,
revitalize my jaded palate and see where else my taste buds will take
me.

Twists and turns in my life landed me in many different places,
including behind the stove as a professional cook, but writing has
always been my true passion. In 2001, I hadn’t long returned from a
cooking stint in the Yukon, and was just settling back into the Halifax
kitchen scene when I saw an ad in The Coast looking for a new food
writer. Food writing seemed like a great opportunity to combine my two
loves, cooking and writing. So began my journey with The Coast.

The first place I reviewed was Boondocks in Eastern Passage. I was
so nervous—I was convinced they would know who I was and why I was
there. Didn’t take long to settle into a comfort zone as I went to more
and more places, and I began to feel a rush of adrenaline whenever I
picked up a menu. Each one offered the possibility of a truly great
meal. Sometimes yes, more often no, but the excitement never faded.

Back in 2001, I interviewed Scott London, Halifax’s only working
sommelier. That’s changed—the only reason there aren’t more career
sommeliers today is because there aren’t enough wine-focused
restaurants to supply jobs. The Nova Scotia wine industry has raised
its own bar, garnered international attention, and boasts 10 producing
wineries ready to give Niagara and the Okanagan runs for their grape
money.

In 2002, Pitchman’s Pub (now Bubbles Mansion) and Stayner’s Wharf
tried to go smoke free, and failed—just a little too ahead of their
time.

Because reviewing has allowed me to eat out so frequently at such
diverse places, I’ve come to appreciate the value of excellent service
at any venue. Over the years, I’ve had the privilege to be waited on by
exceptional people who are worth their weight in gold to any
establishment. But three of those genuine, guest-oriented, outstanding
professionals come to mind immediately, encountered at three vastly
different eateries: Jenny the breakfast drive-thru girl at the
McDonald’s on Kempt Road—I’ve never seen her without a smile and a
pleasant good morning or a please and a thank you at every interaction.
When I visited the Surfside Inn early on, I thought Rena must have been
the owner, such was her attentiveness and personal interest in our
experience. Her warmth and charm stuck with us. And Avery at the Five
Fisherman, the embodiment of peak service for fine dining.

I’ve encountered memorable owners, too, like Jane Wright (jane’s on
the common) and Tammy Fredericks (Fredie’s Fabulous Fishhouse), who
know what it takes to provide a great experience for the diner and,
especially, how to look after your staff as well as your customer.

Chef-owners who have carved out a path for themselves and their
patrons often made me long to return to the kitchen. This includes
Dennis Johnston and his wife Monica Bauché, who make a
formidable duo, giving Fid a one-two punch—outstanding service
coupled with extraordinary food.

Another of my culinary heroes is Tempest’s Michael Howell. Howell
elevates locally sourced produce to otherworldly delights and has
worked tirelessly to raise the profile of Nova Scotian food around the
world.

I’ve had some incredible meals that for whatever reason, stayed with
me a long time afterwards. To those cooks, those unsung heroes, who
toil to put the food out there every day, still grossly underpaid and
ridiculously overworked, for them I reserve the highest praise.

I’ve been very fortunate to witness the evolution of our local food
scene, as groundbreakers and risk takers laid the foundations for an
exciting culinary community. Ethiopian, French, German, Indian,
Italian, Thai, Spanish, Jamaican, Vietnamese, Turkish, Greek, Lebanese,
Iranian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Belgian, Mexican—the world has
been served to us on plates.

Vegetarian and vegan friendly, sustainable, local, organic,
all-night, have joined take-out and delivery as descriptors. And with
the return to eating local, as our forefathers did, the cycle has come
full circle.

The Coast has provided me with a public forum in which to express my
love of food and personal experiences in the city’s restaurants;
because food is perhaps the most subjective thing one can ever review,
controversy is sometimes generated over what I’ve written. For a
writer, any time you can evoke a response from a reader is deeply
satisfying. Strong feelings, either of agreement or disagreement, often
find their way into my inbox, but the well-thought-out, carefully
written arguments of why I’m wrong have always been responded to and
appreciated. Because of the subjectivity of taste, the factors inherent
in a restaurant visit, your experience might vary vastly from mine,
even on the same night, and that’s fine. Thank you to those who’ve
shared their opinions without resorting to name-calling and insults;
and thank you to those who’ve written me to agree or support what I’ve
said.

I’ve been asked lots of questions: no, The Coast does not pay for my
meals, only for the articles. No, restaurants do not know I am coming;
I do not accept meals or gifts. Nobody can call and “schedule” a
review. Yes, I include negative points in my reviews because I am
relating my own experiences. If I leave out any negative experiences,
then my writing becomes advertorial, not review. My favourite places
depend on my mood, and the “best” or “worst” are so subjective that I
won’t use them to describe restaurants as a whole.

Finally, as I go burping gently into this good night, I have to
thank Kyle Shaw for taking a chance on a rookie writer and all the
fabulous editors I’ve worked with over the years, but most especially
Stephanie Domet, my first editor—the one who gently drew out my
writer’s voice—to her, I attribute much of my success.

My current editor, Andy Murdoch, is set to take the Coast food
section into new and exciting directions—don’t miss an issue. And to
all those who’ve ever suffered as my dining partner, being told what to
order, what to eat, and what to drink—thank you. But now it’s your
turn to buy.

Buono appetito!

This article appears in May 28 – Jun 3, 2009.