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Ginger and Soy: Traditional Chinese Cuisine full of surprises

What is it about people that makes the idea of being first to discover something so appealing? “I liked it before it was cool” is the clichéd hipster mantra, isn’t it? It’s almost as if we think we’ll eternally carry around a little of the shimmer an

What is it about people that makes the idea of being first to discover something so appealing?

“I liked it before it was cool” is the clichéd hipster mantra, isn’t it? It’s almost as if we think we’ll eternally carry around a little of the shimmer and shine of something that is popular if we were among the first to like it.

I was 16 years old when I accidentally saw Nirvana play Les Foufounes Electriques in Montreal just before their seminal Nevermind LP broke wide open. I still tell that story to anyone who will listen (and occasionally, to people who aren’t even listening). But the way I see it, it’s part of my job to break news of cool new venues or menus, even though I try to give new places three or four weeks to hit their stride before a review. Still, I do relish discoveries and I feel like I might have stumbled upon another one. You see, I am ostensibly reviewing West Vancouver’s Ginger and Soy Traditional Chinese Cuisine this week, which, as I’ll describe below, provided a very tasty meal.

But it was the unexpected pastry showcase in the entrance of the restaurant, replete with meticulously designed, oftentimes ornate little cakes, chocolates, truffles and macarons that caught my eye and led me to meet their creator, Suzannah Yeung. Yeung, who also took my dinner order and processed my payment, operates Noisette Patisserie out of the front of Ginger and Soy’s space, and uses an off-site commissary to create her sweet treasures. She provided my son and I with a sample of her Banoffee Pie when she saw us eyeing up the goods in the display case, which also included a gorgeous Peanut Butter and Jelly cake with shimmering chocolate spheres and a chocolate archway, mango cheesecake with an intricately detailed white chocolate tile, and creatively flavoured handmade chocolates that betrayed tremendous artistry.

Banoffee, which is a portmanteau of banana and toffee, is a dessert of English origins that was here realized with almond crust, toffee caramel, bananas, pastry cream, coffee mousse and Chantilly cream. It was a positively exquisite dessert and one that will compel me to return to try more of the Noisette lineup. Just remember, you heard it here first.

Now, on to dinner. I ordered a large lineup of dishes to share family-style with my wife and kids. Since the premature closing of the sadly short-lived KK BBQ House on Lonsdale Avenue, the Dagenais crew has been searching for good chow mein, the kind that has a deep brown hue, noodles that don’t clump together, and no sign of shiny, gelatinous thickeners. Woefully, our efforts have been fruitless. Until now. Ginger and Soy’s Vegetable Chow Mein arrived as a mountain of mahogany-coloured promise, with discernible morsels of cabbage, carrot, onion, and broccoli, and each noodle seemingly a free and autonomous strand not bound to its brethren in soupy cornstarch. The dish delivered against our criteria for good chow mein and then some, as it was remarkably reserved on the salt content, something that most iterations of this dish cannot claim.

An appetizer of spicy fried squid was a universal hit, the delicate tubes of cephalopod nicely browned in a light batter and then tossed in a fiery, garlic-loaded chili sauce and topped with tiny rings of green jalapeno. Vegetable spring rolls, three to an order, were adequate, if unremarkable, with good crispy shells and principally cabbage-based stuffing.

An unusual dish of Szechuan Pork Belly featured tender and succulent, thinly sliced ribbons of pork belly and similarly cut strips of tofu with red peppers in soy bean paste and chili oil. The pork practically melted on the tongue and the dish had a great balance of sweet and salty, spicy and tangy flavours. General Tao chicken, a staple on Szechuan menus in the West, was satisfactory with its tender nuggets of boneless chicken in a rich soy-based glaze, but was just a touch too sweet for my palate, especially when contrasted with the better balanced flavours of all the other dishes.

A whopping portion of Szechuan Sole had a sauce quite similar to the squid, but the dish stood on its own feet with generous morsels of very fresh, tender fish, battered and lightly fried, that took on the deeply flavoured sauce but was not overwhelmed by it.

Ginger and Soy Fried Rice was a kitchen sink sort of a dish with prawns, scallops, chicken, squid, BBQ pork, and vegetables studding nicely seasoned Jasmine rice.

A final dish of Stir-Fried Baby Bok Choy was exactly what we hoped it would be: fresh, light and simple, allowing the delicate, slightly honeyed flavour of the greens to shine through.

Ginger and Soy supplied one of the better Chinese meals I have had on the North Shore and I am therefore inclined to return for Peking Duck, a dish that can be sublime when prepared by talented hands, but crushingly disappointing if attempted by a novice. It is featured on the menu here for $46 for the traditional two-course preparation in which the crispy duck skin is presented with crepes, scallion, cucumber and hoisin sauce, followed by the meat of the duck and lettuce for wrapping. I trust that Ginger and Soy’s kitchen will treat the revered delicacy with due respect and, if it’s all I eat next time, I’ll still have room for a pastry or two from Noisette.

Our Szechuan Sole dish was the most expensive thing we ate at $17. Mains are, on average, about $15.

Ginger and Soy: 1487 Marine Drive, WestVancouver. Gingerandsoy.ca. 778-279-8862