Panting, I lean my face into my gloved hand and push my sunglasses up my nose. My forearms are killing me. Recalling the instruction I was given on the ground, I realize I’m supposed to use the power of my legs more than my arms to hoist myself up. But how can I trust the tiny front points of the crampons to hold my weight on a vertical surface?

Cheers of encouragement drift up. This propels my feet into action, along with a stronger motivator: the knowledge that children reach the top of this structure on a regular basis. No doubt these are the same kids who whip by me on the slopes, the ones who it seems were birthed directly onto a ski hill. But I’ve been told that even climbing beginners like myself can scale this ice tower on the first go. I’ll be damned if a five-year-old can do it and I can’t.

I’m at Big White Ski Resort near Kelowna, where the ice tower is offered as one of many family-friendly activities. Open for its second season, the tower was built by cross-bracing four telephone poles and flooding them with water. The resulting ice yields four 3.7-metre sides for climbing: one for beginners, with more obvious footholds, and the others more sheer for advanced enthusiasts.

The tower is run by avid climbers Toni Clark and Jim Ongena, who is a guide certified by the American Mountain Guides Association. For $20 per climb or $55 for the day, they’ll outfit you with boots, crampons, and ice tools (which come in kiddie sizes as well), strap you into a harness, add a helmet, and send you out with a belayer to coach you up. Last year, the oldest person who made it to the top was 75 years old, and the youngest five years old.

“Your first time is the hardest because you’re learning as you go,” Clark tells me later. She explains that kids can do it as well as adults because it’s not about strength. “It’s a technique sport. Guys don’t do better than girls necessarily.”

Clark thinks Big White’s ice tower is unique because it gives people an opportunity to try the sport without a major investment of time and money. “To try ice climbing otherwise is almost insurmountable,” she says, pointing out that you need to have the proper gear, must hike into a suitably frozen waterfall, and go with somebody who knows how to ice climb safely.

According to Clark, about 75 percent of those who give it a try at Big White make it to the top. While the belayer assists your climb, he or she can’t pull you up. “It’s really about you making your own progress and us helping you,” she explains. For many people, “it’s more of a mental decision at some point than a physical one….The hardest part is emotional. People have to overcome their belief system that they’re going to fall.”

“It’s a lot about trust,” adds Ongena. “Trusting your feet, trusting the belayer. Trusting is a major part of learning to manage fear.”

Often, one family member does the climb and others are inspired to follow. The tower wasn’t designed for kids, but the pair learned that many wanted to try. “We shouldn’t be surprised because they haven’t yet had the adventure beaten out of them,” Clark says with a laugh.

Over a sashimi salad at the resort’s new BullWheel restaurant, I learn that there are beginner-friendly areas for skiing and snowboarding, too. Big White designates 12 rotating runs as slow zones. Three per day are roped off with controlled entrances for young families and seniors who want to ski or snowboard without fear of being hit by somebody zooming down the hill. (The runs are monitored for people going too fast, who will be asked to leave.) Because the runs change each day, novices can still experience a variety of terrain but in a more controlled atmosphere to build their confidence.

As someone who hasn’t skied in years, I can appreciate a less intimidating run. But I find my first time on shape skis is just like riding a bike—the old technique comes back and I’m swooshing as well as the average five-year-old in no time. Later, I join the huddle of families in the mountain’s Happy Valley Adventure Park to spin down the hill in an inner tube and glide around the outdoor ice rink at sunset.

I also experience several decidedly adult activities over the course of the weekend. One is Big Reds at Big White, an annual December wine-tasting event that celebrates the newest releases of Bordeaux-style wines from the Okanagan. Over 30 local wineries such as Laughing Stock and Ex Nihilo show off their wares while guests graze on small bites made by chefs from the resort’s many restaurants. (The white wine version takes place on March 31 next year.) An associated event, the Winemakers Barrel Sampling Challenge, lets guests taste some of the latest, yet-to-be-bottled vintages.

Our group also takes in a spectacle that can be seen any night. At the Gunbarrel Grill, we watch three people make Gunbarrel coffee, a flaming version of a Monte Cristo coffee that’s prepared tableside. Michael J. Ballingall, who is now Big White’s senior vice president, explains that he and several others invented the drink at Apex Mountain Resort back in the ’80s when they “needed to create theatre” to attract bar business.

Standing over a gas flame, servers sugar the rim of a glass and add brandy, crème de cacao, coffee, and whipped cream. They warm the barrel of a shotgun, hold it vertically from one shoulder down toward the drink, and light a ladleful of Grand Marnier on fire, pouring the alcohol slowly down in a flaming blue line.

Ballingall likes to dip his finger into the alcohol to light the barrel. “The tips when you light your finger on fire double,” he says merrily, adding that a callus develops if you do it on a regular basis, so “after a while, it just doesn’t hurt.”

This kind of fire play is not recommended for amateurs, and I’d want all my digits fully functioning to climb that ice wall anyway. In the end, I scrambled my way to the top after deciding to trust my crampons and use my legs. I also imagined a 127 Hours–type scenario, in which my life depended on climbing higher, to get me there.

While I found the climb very strenuous, apparently it wasn’t that long. I was shocked to find out I’d scaled the tower in about seven minutes. It felt like 25. According to Clark, five- to-seven minutes is average, although little kids take about 15. Last year’s record time was 24 seconds by a British man. Clark holds the female record at one minute, four seconds.

However long it takes, ringing the victory bell at the top is just as sweet.

Access: Big White is located 56 kilometres southeast of Kelowna and offers ski and accommodation packages. Those who fly WestJet and present their boarding pass may ski free on the same day of their flight. The writer travelled as a guest of Tourism B.C. and Big White. For Okanagan travel and ski information, see the Hello BC website.

Although Pemberton may not immediately spring to mind as a destination for culinary tourism, it should. The Pemberton potatoes found on menus around Vancouver and Whistler only hint at the valley’s agricultural bounty. And while it can’t compete with the Okanagan for wine tasting, you can visit a distillery to see how potato vodka is made. Plus, the scenery is so ridiculously beautiful that you’ll wonder why you’ve never motored the extra 20 minutes north of Whistler before.

I started my culinary exploration at North Arm Farms, a 60-acre organic farm that grows a long list of edibles: beans, corn, sunchokes, burdock, salsify, and purple carrots, to name a few. During the summer, it opens up its fields to the public daily. You can download a map from the Northfarm website that shows what grows where and then wander at will. The farm also offers U-pick of what’s in season: for example, raspberries in July, and sweet corn and blueberries in August.

North Arm may be a working farm, but it’s got the field-to-fork concept down. A popular restaurant in town called the Pony has just relocated its catering and baking operations to a kitchen on the property. Using on-site produce, the chefs make sandwiches, salads, and more for the bistro, and sell jams, ketchups, and baked goods in the farm shop. You can also buy fresh fruits and veggies to take home if you don’t get around to picking them yourself.

The farm supplies its produce to restaurants such as the Top Table Group, which includes Araxi in Whistler. Araxi chef James Walt is scheduled to cook at the farm on July 9 for Outstanding in the Field, an annual high-end event that brings diners together for a feast at a long linen-draped table set on the farmland. Walt will also head up the Araxi long-table summer series, a similar concept that features a farm tour followed by a four-course, wine-paired meal at North Arm. (Dinners will take place July 2 and 30, August 27, and September 11; for info and reservations, email farmdinner@araxi.com.) North Arm also participates in Slow Food Cycle Sunday, which takes place this year on August 21.

Although North Arm does grow potatoes, that’s not its mainstay, unlike other farms in spud valley. Owner Jordan Sturdy, who also happens to be the mayor of Pemberton, explained that the area specializes in seed potatoes—that is, potatoes cultivated to be planted elsewhere by other farmers. “Seventy percent of the gross receipts of agriculture in Pemberton are potato-based,” he told me on a tour of the property. But in the last two decades, economic factors have made growing seed potatoes more challenging, and there’s been a rise in organic potato farming as a result.

Falling potato prices inspired young entrepreneur Tyler Schramm to open Pemberton Distillery, located 10 minutes by car from North Arm Farms. Visitors are welcome, and Schramm offers tours to explain how he makes his potato vodka, as well as tastings of his award-winning products. (Tours cost $5 per person, last 25 to 45 minutes, and run hourly Friday through Sunday until September, or by appointment; see the Pemberton distillery website.

On the tour, Schramm told me that the idea for the place came to him at his brother’s Pemberton farm about 10 years ago, as he “was staring out at a potato field and dreaming about what I could do with it”. A fan of Polish potato vodka, he headed to Edinburgh, Scotland, to complete a master’s degree in brewing and distilling. In the land of scotch whisky, he “had to put up with quite a bit of heckling from professors because they couldn’t understand why I wanted to make a vodka.”

Schramm built the microdistillery with the help of his brothers and opened it in 2005. He produced his first vodka in 2009, and last year it won double gold and spirit of the year medals at the 2010 World Spirits Awards in Austria. The artisanal operation is a true family effort: Schramm runs it with his wife, Lórien, and they recruit their immediate family to hand-bottle the approximately 700 bottles per month.

Good ingredients shape the end product. By “dumb luck”, said Schramm, the distillery’s tap water is pulled directly from the Birkenhead River. Supplied by the adjacent Mount Currie Nation reserve, it’s pure and untreated, with no chlorine and virtually no mineral content. The distillery uses B-grade “out-of-size and out-of-shape” organic potatoes from Pemberton’s Across the Creek organics. Schramm went through 90 metric tonnes last year, as it takes nearly seven kilograms of potatoes to produce one 750-millilitre bottle of vodka.

As we walked around the shiny copper stills in which the small batches are produced, I was surprised to learn that most vodkas aren’t made out of potatoes. According to Schramm, there are only about 14 potato vodkas in the world. Because potatoes are more perishable, corn is usually the main ingredient. “A good potato vodka is creamier, silkier, and has more flavour than a grain vodka,” he said. “A grain vodka is more sharp.” And while most standard brands are designed to be neutral for mixing, his product is more fragrant and complex, and meant to be sipped like a scotch.

At the end of the tour, we tried it for ourselves, along with Schramm’s just-released first batch of gin (a whisky is in the works for 2013). Using the same spirit base as the vodka, the gin has added herbs and botanicals like juniper, coriander, star anise, and orange peel. While most gins are fairly mild, Schramm’s is a deliciously unique medium-dry style with a stronger juniper flavour.

I was excited to find organic vanilla for sale in the tasting room, too. Lórien explained that Schramm makes it by macerating organic vanilla beans from Costa Rica in the same spirit base. Housemade organic Ceylon cinnamon, espresso, lemon, and orange extracts are also available.

Who would have thought you could find artisanal extracts in Pemberton? Just goes to show that there’s more to Pemberton than potatoes—even as the town stays true to its roots.

All-inclusive resort near Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Carolyn Ali photo.

Enough winter already! Many people yearn for a week or two in the sun at this time of year, and all-inclusive packages make it easy. Flip through any brochure and you’ll see hundreds of resorts with palm-tree-lined beaches and sparkling turquoise pools. But after a while, all the properties start to look alike. How do you choose the resort that’s right for you?

I  posed that question to Allison Wallace, spokesperson for Flight Centre Canada. The travel agency sells packages from most of the major all-inclusive vacation players, including Air Canada, WestJet, Air Transat, Sunquest, Signature, and Sandals.

First, she said, select your destination wisely. She recommends opting for a place that has direct air service from Vancouver. That’s so you don’t waste precious hours in transit. “It makes a big difference if you have a week versus a two-week holiday,” she said on the line from her Vancouver office. Destinations with high-season, direct flights from Vancouver include Puerto Vallarta, Mazatlán, Los Cabos, and Cancún in Mexico; Montego Bay in Jamaica; and Puerto Plata in the Dominican Republic. Staying on the Pacific coast, where the time-zone change is nil or minimal, also makes transitions easier.

Wallace also advises travellers to look at what kind of guest a resort targets. Those vacationing as a family should make sure there are enough kids’ activities. Those on a romantic getaway may want an adults-only property, or a chain that caters to couples, such as Sandals, RIU, Barceló, or Royal Hideaway. Consider the resort’s setting, as well: a property on a busy resort strip may be ideal for those seeking stimulation, but “If it’s out a lot further and has a private beach, it’s going to be a lot quieter.”

Wallace noted that star ratings for properties in Mexico and the Caribbean “are pretty arbitrary” and aren’t standardized across suppliers. “A four-star in Mexico is equal to a three-, three-and-a-half-star property here,” she said. To ensure your expectations are met, book one star level higher than you actually want, and keep in mind that you get what you pay for. “People want five-star but they’re only willing to pay three stars,” she added.

According to Wallace, Flight Centre’s top three chains in terms of repeat bookings and positive client feedback are Sandals, RIU, and Club Med. In general, “Five-star-rated chains are the most popular” and get the most repeat business.

To really get a feel for a resort, look to somebody who’s been there. “TripAdvisor, your friends, your travel agent…it’s that firsthand knowledge that’s your best resource,” she said. Ideally, talk to somebody whose taste you know and trust.

High season for tropical resorts runs from December through March. Bargain hunters can often find deals for travel immediately before and after peak periods such as school closures for Christmas and spring break. This year, people are likely to get good value for stays between January 4 and 21. Wallace says spring break will fall during the last two weeks of March, so deals may be found the weeks of March 7 and 14 and the first week of April.

Booking early is a good idea. “Last-minute is only good if you’re really flexible and you don’t care where you’re going,” Wallace said. She noted that airlines have cut flights over the last few years due to the recession and fuel prices. Consequently, there are fewer seats available, and “the demand keeps the space filled.” By mid-April, when charter airlines reroute their planes to Europe, there are even fewer sun-spot seats, so deals are harder to come by.

And by then, you might be able to feel the sun’s warmth in Vancouver.

Follow Carolyn Ali on Twitter at twitter.com/carolynali

West Restaurant during Dine Out Vancouver. Tourism Vancouver photo.

Get ready: the annual Dine Out Vancouver restaurant promotion starts January 24 and runs until February 6. Over 200 restaurants are offering three-course meals for $18, $28, or $38. The reservations rush will start at tourismvancouver.com/dov/ on January 6, but menus will be revealed a day earlier on Twitter.

In a phone interview, Dine Out Vancouver program coordinator Lucas Pavan lists some of the new restaurants participating this year. These include the West End’s Tavola, downtown’s Q4 al Centro, and L’Abattoir, Pourhouse, Cork & Fin, and the Charles Bar in Gastown.

If you’re not set on a particular hot spot, Pavan recommends exploring some of the more under-the-radar restaurants. “You’d be quite surprised at the quality of the menus,” he says. For example, at Bistro 101 in the Pacific Institute of Culinary Arts, you could choose local mussels to start, veal osso buco with saffron risotto as a main, and chocolate mousse for dessert. “At $18, it’s quite an amazing deal.” The $28 menu at the aboriginal restaurant Salmon ’n’ Bannock includes options such as smoked pork and corn chowder to start, organic venison to follow, and baked organic apples stuffed with vanilla custard to finish.

According to Pavan, West, Cru, and DB Bistro Moderne are perennially popular Dine Out picks. Last year, diners who voted in the event’s Best Bite Awards chose Coast Restaurant for Best Overall Dine Out Menu. Maurya Indian Cuisine won the most votes for Best Service.

While prix fixe deals are the core of Dine Out Vancouver, there’s now a host of culinary events designed to bring diners together. These happen over a longer period, between January 14 and February 11.

The Kronenbourg Brasserie Mystère dinner on February 10 is destined to fill up in a flash. The dinner, with beer pairings, is free and will be prepared by a yet-to-be-announced local chef. Sign up for one of the 70 spots (each person can bring a guest) at www.k1664brasserie.ca when reservations open on an unspecified date in early January.

Other events were accepting bookings throughout December. The Secret Supper Soiree still has some dates available—and more may be added—for its trolley tours. These transport 24 people to three unknown locations, at which they eat a progressive meal. The cost is $119 per person including wine, or $79 without.

On February 5, Culinary Capers Catering is staging a Dinner in the Dark at its commercial kitchen. Blindfolded diners will be served an eight-course meal paired with Laughing Stock wines. “You really get to taste, smell, and savour what you’re eating,” Pavan says. The price is $150 per person, or $120 without wine.

Dinner-and-a-show packages are also available, in which participants dine at a communal table and are then seated together at the theatre. “It’s an opportunity to meet people,” Pavan explains. The Arts Club Theatre Company is pairing its show August: Osage County with a three-course meal at Cru (January 27, $94) or the Red Door Pan Asian Grill (February 4, $84). A three-courser at the Irish Heather is matched with Bonanza, part of the PuSh International Performing Arts Festival (January 28, $45).

Other events include a sustainable seafood and wine pairing evening at the Vancouver Aquarium, and cooking classes at culinary schools including the Dirty Apron.

Follow Carolyn Ali on Twitter at twitter.com/carolynali

But what’s Christmas without a little kitsch? So I bought a ticket, partly because I wanted to see Radio City Music Hall itself. The Rockettes have been performing there for over 75 years. Since the theatre opened in 1932 in the midst of the Great Depression, over 65 million people have seen the show.

In today’s economic climate, the theatre’s resilience resonates more than ever. It’s part of the Rockefeller Center complex, developed by John D. Rockefeller Jr. After the stock market crashed in 1929 and his original opera-house project fell through, Rockefeller went against pessimistic real-estate predictions and forged ahead on his own dime. The 19-building complex now covers almost nine hectares of midtown Manhattan.

Radio City debuted in hard times, and was almost shuttered in 1978 because of renewed financial hardship. But at the last minute, it was saved by being awarded official landmark status by the city. Completely restored in 1999, it still represents the ultimate in entertainment glamour—and that goes doubly when the Rockettes are on-stage.

When I arrive in New York just before Thanksgiving, the city is in full holiday swing. Shops on Fifth Avenue are lit up like Times Square, with twinkling bulbs framing Tiffany’s, dripping from Cartier, and shimmering over Saks. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that the city is so spirited. New York at Christmas is as iconic as the Rockettes, and together they have been courting tourists with up to five shows a day since mid November.

The afternoon of the show, I go on a Stage Door Tour to learn more about the theatre. Our guide, Eric, explains that Radio City is one of the largest theatres in the world and seats up to 6,000 people. (Great, I think. My ticket is for the third-to-last row.) He assures us that although there are three mezzanines, due to its gently curving design there’s not a bad seat in the house. In fact, he says, the cheapest seats have the advantage of a great overview of the whole theatre, which is designed to mimic the sun setting over an ocean liner. (Great! My ticket is for the third-to-last row!)

Walking through a labyrinth of hallways backstage, we pass concert posters and celebrity portraits of famous Radio City performers like Judy Garland, Frank Sinatra, and Tony Bennett. More current faces include Bette Midler, Stevie Wonder, and Billy Crystal. The images span decades, right up to Céline Dion, Oasis, k.d. lang, Jessica Simpson, and Josh Groban.

After peeking into a room where costumers make the Rockettes’ outfits, we enter a spacious art deco suite with cherrywood walls and a 20-foot-high gold-leaf ceiling. Eric explains that it was built for Samuel L. “Roxy” Rothafel, the music hall’s original producer, but performers have always used it as a greenroom and reception area. “If you name a celebrity from 1933 to today, they’ve been in here,” Eric says, rattling off stars like Charlie Chaplin, Alfred Hitchcock, Elton John, Janet Jackson, and Beyoncé as examples. If these walls could talk, indeed.

But what about the real stars? Originally the Missouri Rockets, the group was renamed the Roxyettes and finally the Rockettes in 1934. Eric tells us that there are actually two casts of 36 Rockettes that perform at Radio City today: one for morning shows, one for evening. Touring casts visit other North American cities, but those boast just 18 to 20 dancers. Only Radio City’s stage—at 44 metres, as long as a city block—can accommodate the full contingent.

I’m impressed by the grueling schedule and want to learn more, but the questions are cut short by a quick photo op, and then we’re back in the stairwell again, heading down to the lobby.

The grand entrance hall is unabashedly retro, and charms with its elegance. Interior designer Donald Deskey’s art deco influence is everywhere, in the curved edges, geometric touches, and use of glass, aluminum, and chrome. Even the restrooms are fabulous, Eric says, advising us to check out as many as we can.

When the tour is over, I head to the loo. Entering the “Ladies Lounge”, I find myself in a 1930s time warp. There’s a gracious sitting area with period armchairs, and circular mirrors hang above rows of makeup tables. I apply lipstick in front of one and think of the generations of women who have primped here. Before moving on, I dry my hands on a pedal-pump hand dryer that still works, albeit not very efficiently.

That night, I’m as impressed by the show as I am by the theatre. Although I was initially attracted to the cheesy nature of the production, I’m quickly dazzled by it. In 90 minutes, the Rockettes dance as reindeer, Santa Clauses, and rag dolls. Dressed as toy soldiers, they fall back on one another domino-style. In silver costumes beaded with Swarovski crystals, they are every bit as glamorous as their billing, and it’s thrilling to watch them spanning the stage in one long line, executing their eye-high kicks so absolutely in sync.

A spirited chorus and orchestra punch up the show, and a movie-screen backdrop adds even more action. In the Nativity scene, donkeys and sheep—and yes, even live camels—parade on-stage. In a Central Park tableau, ice dancers spin on a small skating rink lifted into place by a unique hydraulic system. The show is, as advertised, spectacular.

To be sure, there’s a lot of Santa schlock. But I’m as excited as the kid in front of me when the man in red instructs the audience to put on our 3-D glasses and then flies around the streets of New York, above the buildings I passed on my way to the theatre.

By the time the Rockettes throw up their arms in a triumphant finale, I want to hug the strangers next to me. The show’s positive energy is utterly infectious, which is probably why it’s still popular after all these years. Just like in the Dirty Thirties, sometimes we need a little Christmas—and the more spectacular, the better.

Access: The Rockettes Christmas Spectacular runs at Radio City Music Hall until December 31. Tickets start at US$45. The theatre is located on Sixth Avenue between 50th and 51st streets. One-hour Stage Door Tours run year-round from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. and cost US$18.50 for adults and US$10 for kids 12 and under.  

Maureen Evans takes a different approach. Here’s how the UBC creative writing graduate recasts Child’s recipe:

Julia Child’s Boeuf Bourguignon

Brwn,rmv½c lardon,
2lb beef, carrot&onion.
Flr,s+p. 8m@450°F; +2c pinot
&Stock/T tompaste/BqtGrni.
Cvr3h@325°F.

If this doesn’t make sense to you, that’s because Evans has written it in a type of shorthand so that the whole recipe—including the name of the dish—doesn’t exceed 140 characters. This tiny recipe is just one of 1,020 that Evans has included in her new book, Eat Tweet: A Twitter Cookbook (Artisan, $18.95). As she notes in the intro, “Eat Tweet is the world’s first cookbook written entirely in Twitterese (save for the introductions).”

Condensing Child’s recipe was “really tricky”, Evans admits in a phone interview with the Straight. “It was challenging, but it was fun,” she says from San Francisco, where she’s attending a conference. “That’s why I’ve enjoyed this funny genre; it’s these challenges of, how much information can I fit into a text message? Just the title is over one-third of the space.”

Those familiar with Twitter know that the social-networking platform allows a maximum of 140 characters per message. Evans says she was the first person to tweet recipes, back in October 2007, under the handle @cookbook. To call her an early adopter is an understatement: her partner, Blaine Cook, who is also from B.C., was one of Twitter’s original programmers.

In 2006, after Evans finished her Bachelor of Arts degree in creative writing and anthropology at UBC, she moved with Cook to San Francisco. While he worked on Twitter, she pursued poetry and freelance writing.

A cooking enthusiast, Evans started tweeting family recipes to her circle of friends. That grew into a community of followers, many of whom tweeted recipes back. She currently tweets to more than 37,000 followers.

Eat Tweet, which was published in September, consists of previously tweeted and new recipes, some of which have been modified from those of popular chefs such as Child. For example, it includes mini versions of Mark Bittman’s Beet Rösti and Vikram Vij’s famed lamb popsicles. The book has the breadth of an all-purpose cookbook, spanning salad dressings to soups, pastas to roasts, breads to desserts. But this is no Julia Child tome: the book is hardly thicker than two iPhones stacked atop one another, and is about the size of an average paperback.

So how does anyone make sense of those abbreviated instructions? Decoding them is half the fun. It assumes, however, a certain knowledge base. The book’s glossary—found in the book as well as at cookbookglossary.pbworks.com/—defines symbols and shorthand. For example, a slash (/), which means “and”, separates ingredients in a step. If no number is specified, the reader should assume the unit is one. So “mix c flr/T sug” means mix one cup of flour and one tablespoon of sugar.

Abbreviations include bkgsheet for baking sheet, tater for potato, and srv for serve. BqtGrni in the beef bourguignon recipe means bouquet garni, or a bundle of herbs.

Evans has written most of the recipes to serve three to four people, a yield she chose not for economy of characters but to reflect the needs of a modern household. She also includes recipes for holiday dishes, such as roast turkey and stuffing. Although these serve a larger crowd, the recipes never top 140 characters.

Emily Jane Stuart bustles around Jethro’s Fine Grub pouring coffee, delivering heaping plates of pancakes, and seating those waiting at the door. She’s wearing a no-nonsense apron and when she takes orders, she pulls a pen from her hair, piled high atop her head. Her friendly yet efficient manner is reminiscent of a waitress in a 1950s diner. But you’d have been hard-pressed to find a server back then with nose piercings, black leggings, and a shredded white T-shirt that revealed tattoos down her back and arms.

“We thought Dunbar Street could use a little East Van,” she tells the Straight in a phone interview later. Apparently, it could. She says that since she and her partner, D’Arcy Allen, opened the place just before the Olympics, it’s been packed on weekends and steady on weekdays.

The 24-seat jewel-box eatery has a huge picture window, dove-grey wainscoting, and pretty wall sconces. Both times I visited, there were at least half as many people waiting outside as there were sipping coffee inside. The din of voices over top of “Mustang Sally” playing on the sound system provided some conversational privacy in a very small space.

The menu at Jethro’s lured me on-line because it goes beyond the standard eggs Bennies. A southern influence can be seen in dishes like the South of Denver omelette, stuffed with pulled pork, smoked Gouda, and jalapeños. You can get chicken fried steak, as well as biscuits with country gravy, a relative rarity in Vancouver.

The sweet offerings are equally intriguing. Gold Rush banana pancakes are filled with caramel, pecans, and streusel, and topped with more of the same. Challah French toast is slathered with Nutella. Then there’s the French toast made with banana bread and topped with caramelized bananas. Nothing for breakfast or lunch (served all day) is over $12, and many meals ring in as low as $9.

Although Stuart is a Red Seal–certified chef, Allen designed the menu and does the cooking. In a separate phone interview, he explains that like Stuart, he was born and raised in Vancouver. He learned to cook in L.A. and worked in restaurants there including a diner and Caioti Pizza Café, under famed chef Ed LaDou. He’s crisscrossed America doing catering for touring rock bands including Fleetwood Mac, Rob Zombie, and Linkin Park. “You snag recipes along the way,” he says, explaining the restaurant’s southern flavour.

The lunch menu includes items like a Cobb salad, burgers, and a Thai curry bowl. Nods to the South include gumbo, pulled pork sandwiches, and a catfish po’ boy. There are even Alligator Nuggets: Allen tenderizes Louisiana-farmed alligator, batters and fries it, and serves it with rice and salad. “It’s like chicken,” he says predictably, “but it’s got a little maltiness to it.” He makes almost everything served at the restaurant from scratch, including the hollandaise sauce and the gravy.

The cooking’s from scratch, yes, but it’s refreshingly free of organic, local, free-range snobbery. In Stuart’s opinion, there are already enough eateries that cater to that market. “The love is organic,” she says sweetly of Jethro’s. “Grub is what you get.”

This no-apologies, down-to-earth vibe was shared by the other server working with Stuart. When I asked her if the orange juice was fresh-squeezed, she smiled and quipped, “Tropicana squeezes it.”

Along with the warm atmosphere, the food certainly contributes to the restaurant’s success. The pancakes are moist and taste homemade, rather than dry and soulless like at some chain restaurants. Plus, they’re the size of hubcaps. Or, as I overheard one large male customer say, “They’re bigger than my stomach!” A $5 buttermilk “short stack” would easily satisfy a moderate eater. The Rooster pancakes, studded with chocolate chips and rippled with a shot of espresso, are delicious; however, I didn’t taste a hint of espresso.

On my visits, there were some misses. The crab cake in the crab cake Benedict was gummy and tasted of filler more than seafood. The corn cakes that accompanied the Cowboys Breakfast (really one corn pancake cut in half) were dry. And while I don’t have anything bad to say about the Denver sandwich, there was nothing wow about it, either.

I really, really wanted to try the alligator, and wrestled with the choice, but in the end it was too early in the day to take on that challenge—I needed a few more cups of coffee first. The coffee, importantly, is fantastic: a dark, rich French roast that impressed even my connoisseur husband. It’s generously priced at $2, including refills.

For the Cowboys Breakfast, the bacon arrived in perfect, meaty slabs with high-quality sausage and chorizo. The poached eggs were expertly cooked. The chili that topped the hash browns was fresh and light. Nothing tasted greasy.

Portions were reasonably large, with the exception of the pancakes, which were unreasonably large—to the utter delight of many diners.

And the inevitable weekend lineups? It’s easy to see why people come: the coffee’s great, the food is comforting and good value, and the service has quirky personality. It all makes for a very good start to the day.

Ghosts eat potato chips? Indeed, I discovered as I travelled around Taiwan, food is such a celebrated part of life that even the afterlife includes feasting.

Wu explained that people buy the items for Ghost Month, the seventh month of the lunar calendar—late August to early September on the western calendar. During this time, ancestors and “homeless ghosts” are invited to visit the living for a feast.

According to Wu, it’s Chinese tradition to pay your respects to your ancestors by offering them food on the anniversary of their deaths. But those who pass on without relatives to tend to them or who haven’t quite made it to their final destination get left out.

“If a ghost is homeless and nobody offers it food during the year, this is a good chance for it to eat,” Wu said. The Taiwanese make the offerings out of a mix of respect for and fear of these spirits, which if not appeased might make trouble.

Wu explained that at the beginning of the month, a “ghost gate” to the underworld is opened at a temple in Keelung, a northern city near Taipei. Buddhist and Taoist festivals are held throughout the island to welcome the spirits to Earth, encouraging them to eat and enjoy themselves. At the end of the month, the ghost gate is closed and the spirits are sent back in the hope that they’ll leave the living in peace.

Driving through a narrow lane in the southern city of Kaohsiung that afternoon, we happened upon a small temple that was having a festival in an adjacent empty lot. Baskets of nonperishable food, rice, fruit, and even beer were piled up as offerings, each bundle flagged with a family name. Two whole slaughtered pigs, snouts dripping blood, lay on a table in front of a grandstand where elaborately costumed officials chanted enthusiastically as a noisy puppet show blared in the background to entertain the lost souls.

“They’re reading out the names of those who brought offerings,” Wu explained. “This person has offered food, so please don’t bother him.…That person has offered food, so please don’t bother her.”

Curiously, few spectators were present. Wu noted that most people drop off their offering and pick it up later in the day. After paying their respects with a prayer and burning incense or paper money for ghosts to use in the afterlife, templegoers take the food back home, where it’s unceremoniously consumed.

These offerings are just one way that Ghost Month touches modern Taiwanese life. According to Wu, many people are still quite superstitious and won’t make major life changes during this period. “People won’t get married or move house,” he explained. “And they won’t swim in rivers or the ocean.”

Wu delivered the latter news as we were on a hiking path in Taroko Gorge, sweating in 36-degree heat while gazing down at the enticing aqua pools of the Shakadang River.

Located near Hualien in eastern Taiwan, the gorge is part of a stunning national park featuring towering marble rocks cut by rivers and waterfalls. Hikers often indulge in a dip along the Shakadang Trail, but this time of year one has to be wary.

“According to our legend, people who die in water will become ghosts in water,” Wu said. “When people die, they are reborn. But if they are a water ghost, they need to find a person to replace them before they can be reborn. You don’t want to be that replacement.”

We decided against the swim, but I later found that ghosts lurking on Earth don’t stop the fun on land. Taipei’s Shilin Night Market certainly didn’t seem subdued.

The city’s largest such market is a monster party, with a huge covered food building, plus a maze of alleyways heaving with vendors and shoppers. The sheer scale of the place and the variety of culinary offerings—from links of Taiwanese sausage to steamed dumplings to “stinky” fermented tofu—made it one of the most impressive I’ve seen in Asia.

What struck me was the creativity of the street food. “People are always looking for something new,” Wu said. “So entrepreneurs are always coming up with the unexpected.” That includes dishes usually seen in restaurants—like steak served sizzling on a cast-iron pan, or personalized hot pots—served for a fraction of the price.

In order to compete, restaurants are also constantly innovating. The most extreme—and debatably distasteful—example I encountered was Modern Toilet. This café in the Shilin district seats patrons on colourful thrones and serves food like curry and ice-cream sundaes in toilet-shaped porcelain dishes. Unbelievably, it manages to come across as cute rather than disgusting, and the concept has proven popular enough to support a chain of over a dozen restaurants.

In the end, however, it’s great noshing, rather than novelty, that keeps people coming back. At the night market, there are Frisbee-sized deep-fried chicken cutlets, spicy-crispy scallion pancakes, juicy dumplings piping hot from the steamer… These little snacks add up to a big feast.

Who can blame the ghosts for coming out to play?

Access: For information on Taiwan, see www.eng.taiwan.net.tw/. The writer travelled as a guest of the Taiwan Tourism Bureau.

“The U.S. border is so important to us as Canadians,” Lundy says, explaining why he chose the route. The Mexican border was a natural complement because “it’s just so much drama—the drugs, the illegals [trying to cross].”

On the line from Salt Spring, Lundy says that he shipped his Kawasaki KLR to San Antonio, Texas. In March, 2007, he rode from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific, sticking as close to the 3,220-kilometre line as possible. Then he shipped the bike to Saint John, New Brunswick, and traced the more than 6,400 kilometres that separate the U.S. and Canada. (He didn’t ride the Alaskan portion of the border.) Each journey took about a month, as he stopped more often in the south.

Lundy chronicles his travels in Borderlands: Riding the Edge of America (Knopf, $32), released earlier this year. The book is part travelogue and part lesson on the continent’s history. But mostly, it’s a fascinating look at U.S. national security post–9/11 and the human consequences.

On the southern leg, Lundy examines the fence that the Americans have erected in a vain attempt to stop illegal immigration. “It’s a real physical barrier for about a third of the border’s length,” he says, noting that people find ways around and through it nonetheless.

The book details Lundy’s encounters with all sorts of right-wing Americans who live near the Mexican border. They feel that their country is under siege and are hostile toward their own government. They’re also hostile toward Canada, as many erroneously believe the 9/11 terrorists entered the U.S. from Canada.

Because the Mexican side of the border is notorious for violent crime, Lundy spent most of his southern journey on the American side, crossing into Mexico only three times.

Still, he had several hairy encounters in the “third country” area of the U.S. near the border. Both officials and civilians gave him plenty of ominous warnings that he shouldn’t be there. He was never exactly sure how much real danger he was in.

On his northern journey Lundy rode freely, crossing the border 15 or 20 times at official checkpoints. His frequent crossings were questioned by American guards. But he tells the Straight that the Canadian guards didn’t give him a second look. “I waited each time for them to come out [from scanning his passport] and say, ‘What the hell are you doing? You’ve crossed the border a dozen times in the last two weeks. What are you up to?’ And no one ever did. I have no idea why.”

Lundy affirms what the Americans fear. “When they say the northern border is porous, they’re absolutely right—it is.” He explains that outside of the checkpoints, there are countless places where people could cross the border by land or by water undetected. In parts of Saskatchewan, he recalls, the roads wove back and forth into the U.S., and “I never knew what country I was in hour by hour.” He adds that, since it would be so easy to avoid official crossings, “I do not understand how anyone ever gets caught smuggling drugs over the Canadian-American border.”

But he also emphasizes that the American obsession with security is changing both borders. The one with Canada is becoming better marked and policed. “In the future, they’ll use more and more virtual means: cameras, surveillance drones, in-ground sensors,” Lundy says.

Besides covering the political, the book gets personal, detailing Lundy’s struggles with his motorbike, painful injuries, and reflections on his own mortality. The joy of the ride runs through it all.

There is a better way. Not only is taking the train a lot more fun than sitting in a vehicle, it’s kinder to the environment.

For years, Amtrak has been running the daily Cascades train service to Seattle. But the timing of the trains is inconvenient for weekend trips and makes day trips impossible. (The train departs Vancouver at 5:45 p.m. and returns from Seattle at 7:40 a.m.)

Since August, however, Amtrak has been running a second daily Cascades train with a much better schedule. It’s the same train that runs roundtrip between Portland, Oregon, and Bellingham, Washington; the route was extended to Vancouver as a pilot project for the Olympics.

According to an Amtrak news release, this second Vancouver run has proven so popular that the pilot project is being extended to September 30. The service could become permanent, but that depends on ridership and a go-ahead from the Canadian Border Services Agency. The CBSA wants a longer trial period to assess the costs of the additional customs services and whether they are viable.

Note: as of October 15, 2010, the second train service has been extended for another year.

So what’s it like to ride the rails across the border? I did the trip and found it fun, easy, and economical.

The worst part may be getting up early to catch the train, which departs from Pacific Central Station near Main and Terminal Streets at the ungodly hour of 6:40 a.m. That said, it’s worth arriving at the station just after it opens at 6 a.m. because seats are assigned on check-in. Requests are granted at Amtrak’s discretion; ask for seats on the right-hand side of the train, which is by far the most scenic, as the train hugs the coastline going south.

Everyone clears customs in Vancouver before they board the train. At the border, you can see the Peace Arch through the window, but the train speeds right past without stopping. Sweet!

The trip to Seattle takes almost four-and-a-half hours, so there’s plenty of time to make up for an early alarm with a snooze. The leather seats are comfortable, and there’s a counter-service bistro car with reasonably priced food, including organic granola, burgers, salads, and Washington state microbrews.

I found that the journey went by quickly and was very relaxing. Instead of fighting traffic, I read, napped, and gazed out the window. At times, the train ran right next to the ocean and offered tremendous panoramas. The pastoral Skagit Valley also offered pleasing views on both sides of the train.

You arrive in Seattle at 11:05 a.m. From King Street Station, it’s a block to Seattle’s Ride Free bus area, where you can catch a bus anywhere downtown for free between 6 a.m. and 7 p.m. daily.

The train returns to Vancouver at 6:50 p.m. Northbound, U.S. customs officers board the train at Blaine, while passengers clear Canadian customs upon disembarkation in Vancouver at 10:50 p.m.

Like airfares, train fares fluctuate. A one-way ticket to Seattle runs US$35 to US$57. Factoring in gas, it may compete costwise with driving—especially if you stay a couple of nights in a downtown hotel that charges $35 per night just for parking. You can bring a bike on the train for a nominal fee.

For information and reservations, see www.amtrakcascades.com/.