Get ready to salivate ladies! What was your most memorable meal ever?
My most memorable meal ever was at Sanafir Restaurant & Lounge downtown Vancouver, 1026 Granville Street. A great friend of mine, Deb Podowski otherwise know as Debbie dooo, FINALLY got engaged after about 50 years of dating Keith! She was lucky enough to have her good friend Christina Linden (name drop!) arrange her stagette and WOW, it was incredible! Sanafir is a Tapas menu offering, trio-oriented exotic flavours, showcasing equal amounts of North African, Asian, Middle Eastern, Mediterranean and Indian dishes. We had a group of about 12 girls and because of Christina’s connections she arranged a sample menu for us all to try. It was, to date, the best experience my taste buds have ever had in my 40 odd years on this planet. There was not one item on any of the delicious platters that were brought to our table that I didn’t absolutely love! Love I say! Each flavour was exquisite.
Sanafir, meaning “meeting place” in Arabic, is a bi-level restaurant adorned with handcrafted Egyptian amber urns, harem style draperies, and richly upholstered beds; as you know, nothing says romance like harems and beds. And we all know what my view is on romance! With 40-foot ceilings, handcrafted glass chandeliers, and gilt paintings, Sanafir exudes culture and style. The atmosphere is chic yet elegant, and offers a rare Eastern/Western fusion. I loved it so much I spent my birthday there with ‘a really good friend of mine’. Enjoy!
Bonnie’s two cents~
Mmmm…food…I love food. I honestly cannot think of just one memorable meal I’m afraid. I’ve had so many!! When I think of meals that have really tantalized my taste buds I always relate them to a place. For example, when I was a kid and living in Australia, my dad would often take me downtown to Sydney’s main train station for a meat pie. They were the best meat pies in the city.
Back in Canada we also had favourite places for certain things. Sunday mornings we loved to go for breakfast at “The Tomahawk” in North Van. There used to be a bakery on Marine Drive that made the best pasty (–noun, plural -ties. Chiefly British. a pie filled with game, fish, or the like. And not “pasties”, a pair of small, cup-like coverings for the nipples of a striptease dancer, nude model, etc. Sheesh!)
When I was a flight attendant I had many many memorable meals all over the world. I remember an incredible full course meal in Amsterdam that was fantastic until I ate the entire brownie I was offered for dessert only to discover later that it was a “hash” brownie. Turned me off brownies for awhile. There were the special roast beef sandwiches the ground crew used to bring on board for us in Argentina that were so delicious but were laced with horseradish so hot that at times you felt like the top of your head was literally being blown off. Then there was the most incredible paella I’ve ever tasted in a small hole in the wall restaurant we found while in Portugal.
The most consistently great meals I’ve ever tasted however, were while I was in Italy at different times. In northern Italy I tasted the best pizza I have ever “experienced”. I use the word experience because it was just that…a taste experience. While spending a wonderfully great deal of time in Torino there was never a restaurant that disappointed. I should confess at this point though that my favourite food of all time is Italian. Pasta of any shape and size with a great sauce will have my mouth watering instantly. Oh, but I really love Greek food too, and Chinese, and Japanese…oh and Thai…and African…and…mmmm.
Jacquie weighs in~
I think great memories are made when good people and good food are served together. I’ve been fortunate in my life to have been able to enjoy meals in some of the most interesting, romantic, funky locations in the world, and I’m a pretty adventurous diner, having tried and enjoyed everything from exotic roots to brains (OK, I didn’t know it was that at the time. Cerveaux de Vache sounded interesting!), but I have to say my favorite memories are of Sunday dinner at home when I was little before my parents split up.
Sunday night was the only night of the week when my sister and brother and I were allowed to sit in the family room with TV tables and watch The Wonderful World of Disney for an hour. We were all well under the age of 10. Anne was still a baby so she was in a high chair up in the kitchen. My dad made dinner these nights and his Swiss Steak was genius, so that’s what we traditionally requested, so much so that we renamed it Walt Disney. I still call any simmered, one-pot, beef, potato, carrot and celery stew-like concoction Walt Disney.
He kept a short glass of rum and coke or rye and 7 and ice on the counter and my sister and I would sneak little sips without him catching on. He was fastidious about washing his hands while cooking and would drape tea towels over the cabinet doors until the kitchen looked like a Tibetan prayer flag display. These memories will always be some of the most special ones to me no matter how many amazing meals I experience in the future because I shared them with my family. And it makes me wonder what memories my kids will take with them forever.