I put on the
best fake smile I could muster.
“Sure I would
love to go,” I grinned outside and grimaced inside at my friend’s suggestion of
grabbing dinner at a Canadian/Chinese/Japanese restaurant in Pemberton.
Past horrors of
similar establishments where menus read longer than War and Peace flashed
before me along with visions of plates with food that all looked strangely the
same, despite your server swearing one dish was fried chicken and the other was
chop suey. My nature of perpetual war was on going.
with no-name ketchup seemed like a happier alternative at the time, but my 6’6
foot giant of a friend disagreed. He was hungry.
So the three of
us set off for a night on the town in Pemberton at the Canadian/Chinese/Japanese
restaurant where three countries manage to squeeze themselves into one kitchen.
I soon learned
this cultural mouthful actually has an official title: The
The building is
as eclectic as the menu. The outside is a beautiful wooden structure, a shiny
edition of something you might see in a western film. But inside, suddenly you
are in the stereotypical Chinese restaurant you might find anywhere in the
city. The décor is simple, clean and Asian inspired.
There was only
one table occupied, so we treated ourselves to a window seat looking out on the
War and Peace
was handed out to the three of us and I skimmed for the Coles Notes version to
get dinner underway. I flipped by the dozen daily specials and Canadian fare,
past the Japanese plates and Chinese individual dishes and finally rested on
the Chinese dinner combo specials in the back.
I will never
again judge a book by its cover, or should I say girth.
War and Peace
was not considered a novel because it broke so many of the novelistic
conventions of its time. The same could apply to the Centennial Café where its
multi-chaptered menu leaves you wondering where does it store all of the
ingredients to make so many dishes?
The menu almost
dares you to order at complete opposite ends of the spectrum to see if the
kitchen is good to their word.