TURNING MANGOES INSIDE OUT

WHERE THE RIVER NARROWS is a loving homage to Chef Jean-Christophe (J-C) Poirier’s home province, Québec—the phrase is a direct translation of the Algonquin word “kebec,” describing the area around Québec City where the St. Lawrence River is hemmed in by towering cliffs. Québec is where J-C’s love for the nostalgic beauty of French cooking began. In his debut cookbook, he shares recipes from both cultures, Québécois and French, and the intersections between them—whether from the menu of his Michelin-starred Vancouver restaurant, St. Lawrence, or his kitchen at home.

By J-C Poirier with Joie Alvaro Kent

Unimaginable as it may seem now, solid neighbourhood restaurants were once a rare commodity in Vancouver. Sure, there were dearly-missed spots like Monsoon and Refuel and Aurora Bistro—but nothing in terms of sheer numbers relative to nearby cities like Seattle and Portland, where neighbourhood restaurants like The Walrus and The Carpenter proliferated on every block.

These are spots with little pretense, yet are rich in character; places that you could roll into on a Wednesday evening wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of Converse and wave to the line cooks as you post up at the bar. Where the fixings for your favourite drink are always available, where you invariably bump into friends who live five minutes away. And, most importantly, where you can get top-notch food that’s soulful and beautiful without being too precious. Thankfully, time has brought with it welcome change, and chefs like Andrea Carlson, J-C Poirier, Gus Stieffenhofer-Brandson, and Tess Bevernage have redefined what it means to enjoy a good meal at your local.

Named after Angus's first award-winning Vancouver Thai restaurant Maenam, the Thai word for "river," this cookbook is a celebration of Angus's inventive approach to Thai cuisine that is in many ways representative of a river's constant ever-replenishing flow. Just as a river continues its course around boulders and obstacles, Angus's ongoing evolution and path to becoming one of the most significant Thai chefs in North America is an unlikely one.

“Kumain ka na?”

These three Tagalog words tell you everything you need to know about the relationship that Filipinos have with their food. Sure, the phrase is directly translated as, “Have you eaten yet?”—but it’s also commonly used as a greeting. In the eyes of any Filipino, all is not right in the world if you aren’t well fed.

Food is at the heart of Philippine culture; it’s the centerpiece of every celebration, family gathering, and intimate tete-a-tete. It starts each day in the Philippines: an early-morning wakeup call as taho vendors announce their wares, ready to dish out warm cups of fresh silken tofu with arnibal (brown-sugar syrup) and sago (tapioca pearls) from the aluminum buckets slung across their shoulders. And it’s the call of “Balut!” that punctuates every late night, with sellers walking the darkened streets between pools of light. When Filipinos emigrate from the motherland, food is the golden thread that ties us to a sense of home; the culinary touchstone that keeps us grounded in our culture.