I celebrated a big birthday this year.
It was big to the extent that it marked a nice round number, one of those milestones that end in zero and to which we humans attach special significance. I commemorated the occasion by buying myself an expensive bike. Lest you think I rushed out and bought a Harley, I should clarify that I bought a bicycle, of the carbon road variety, upon which I now find myself spending several hours per week elevating my heart rate and cursing at drivers who don’t shoulder check before making a turn.
Rich foods and good wines don’t burn themselves away like they used to and the acquisition seemed relatively sensible, as far as mid-life indulgences go.
The purchase was motivated in part by the idea that I still had a few tricks left in my increasingly threadbare bag, and that perhaps a great bike would be the catalyst for a new commitment to disciplined fitness and he-looks-good-for-his-age swagger.
Last year, Pasparos Taverna also celebrated a big birthday. The restaurant, now one of the North Shore’s oldest dining institutions, turned 41 in 2015. On my recent visit to this mature Greek stalwart, I was pleased to find myself trying a few new things.
The place was busy for a Wednesday night, offering encouraging evidence that it is possible to remain relevant and popular despite being born in an era when The Captain and Tenille, John Denver, and The Bee Gees enjoyed heavy rotation on the radio.
My wife DJ accompanied me. One of our first homes together was just around the corner from Pasparos and we used to make the restaurant a frequent destination.
Avoiding the temptation to settle into a comfortable and familiar habit, on this most recent visit we selected a number of dishes that we had not tried before, including a lush and velvety cold appetizer of Elioto, a finely pureed spread of kalamata olives, garlic and tangy olive oil.
The silken, well-seasoned dip, which was smoother than a traditional tapenade but softer than a paté (which is how it’s described on the menu), was a light, fresh treat and a great segue into the enjoyable hot meal that followed, which began with a dish of stuffed calamari.
The mantle portions of four approximately three-inch squid were generously stuffed with soft feta, firm, unmeltable sheep’s kefalograviera cheese, crisp celery, bell peppers and zucchini.
Served simply with a few wedges of lemon, the dish retained a delicate freshness and permitted each of the constituent flavours to shine through.
The squid itself revealed a firmer, chewier texture than might be expected of grilled, braised or deep-fried calamari, but it was not in any way off-putting, given the novelty of the preparation, which included a crisp vegetable component.
DJ and I also shared a bowl of Fasolada, an exceptionally thick and hearty, vegan-friendly soup of navy beans and tomatoes. Surprisingly deep, satisfying flavours of garlic and herbs made the stew-like dish a winner and a natural choice for a rainy evening.
For her main course, DJ selected the Spanakopita Platter, which featured two large, triangular parcels of deep brown filo stuffed with spinach and feta, and sides of lemon-roasted potatoes, rice, tzatziki and a large portion of cucumber-dominant Greek salad.
Exhibiting rare restraint, I did not select Pasparos’ historically excellent roast lamb for my main, but rather opted for their halibut entrée, a remarkably large fillet of very fresh fish accompanied by the same sides as DJ’s Spanakopita. The fish, beautifully tender and naturally buttery, was presented unencumbered by fussy preparation, benefiting from only a light brushing of olive oil and lemon.
Reminiscing about previous experiences at Pasparos, I asked our host if their tradition of live entertainment remained in tact. He revealed that indeed on Friday and Saturday evenings guests should still expect to be presented with dancers that spontaneously appear and make their way around tables.
Noted for its traditional emphasis on hip articulation, the particular style of dance performed at Pasparos is what has become known in the West as “belly dancing.”
I mention this in the spirit of candor and in keeping with my immediate theme of aging. You see, whenever I hear the sudden amplification of music and witness the languid, serpentine glide of a dancer through a dining room, my stomach muscles immediately clench in anxious foreboding; what if I am invited to participate?
The professional dancers are trained and proficient in their art; they are elegant and graceful, I am not. I once witnessed, with vicarious horror, an unwitting diner summoned from his seat to join in a few footloose and fancy-free moments. The resulting dance number, Seinfeldian in its unrelenting immunity to self-awareness, was marked by sharp, jerky arm movements, the odd, misplaced hand clap and undeniably tense facial expressions.
I commend Pasparos for its continued youthful exuberance but must confess that I will never make eye contact with one of their dancers in case I am wrested from the safety of my meal and revealed to be equipped with two left feet.
Our meal was $75 before gratuity. Pasparos Taverna is located at 132 West Third St. 604-980-0331 pasparos.com
Chris Dagenais served as a manager for several restaurants downtown and on the North Shore. A self-described wine fanatic, he earned his sommelier diploma in 2001. Contact: [email protected].
