The Shack is a new project by Lavallée, opening soon on the Halifax Waterfront. The Shack will serve oysters, seafood chowders and seafood-based goodies. I chatted with Renée via email.

So tell me about The Shack. How did it come to be?

 The Shack Oyster Bar is the  idea of my friend, Nick. We’ve been working together for 8 years, and it was just a natural progression of our work/friendship. His product, my kitchen knowledge.

It’s a pretty simple set-up: raw clams & oysters, steamed mussels/clams/bay scallops, a chowder and a crab & lobster roll. Add some Covered Bridge chips, a delicious non-alcoholic drink by Jeff van Horne and add the Halifax waterfront and sunshine. Where else in Halifax can you get fresh, perfectly prepared oysters & clams? Where you can then take and sit on the waterfront and people watch? It’s a no-frills way to bring some of our best shellfish to the general public and have fun doing it too.

 Who will be your clientele? 

During the off-season (May & Oct) we are hoping to grab the attention of the locals for lunch. Summer  months, we hope to attract tourists, but ultimately we are doing this for Halifax/Dartmouth.

 It’s funny, ’cause you left the insanity of a kitchen, but now have another insanity. At least in one kitchen, it’s all contained. How will you handle it?

I’m lucky to have an amazing husband and amazing friends. I live in a community where I can call on a number of people to help out when I’m working. Plus, my daughter Zoe goes to Kindergarten next year so once that happens, who knows what will happen in Dartmouth 

This is basically a public service message for those of you who want to hit up Fid Resto before it closes later this month. Dennis, Monica and the team at Fid have announced their final batch of tasty events. Out of sheer laziness and want to get it out there asap, I present to you sections of their press release handily copied and pasted:

On Saturday, May 11^th, Fid Resto presents a Tango Brunch featuring tango music and dancing for all. Johnston and Bauche want to celebrate their love of the dance with many people’s favorite meal of the day. Also on Saturday, as part of Open City, they’ll be offering their popular Back Door Pad Thai throughout the day.

Sunday, May 12^th is Mother’s Day and Fid Resto offers their full brunch menu from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m., plus a Mother’s Day Dinner menu from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m.

Wednesday, May 15^th has just been confirmed as the final Small Plates Night. This night has proven to be their most popular offering to date.  More than 20 innovative savory and sweet small plates are lovingly prepared by Johnston and his kitchen team, providing a truly memorable and customized dining experience.  Service begins at 5 p.m.

Sunday, May 19^th is the last night of service for Fid Resto.  Johnston and Bauche are anticipating a celebratory evening as they close up the business they have run for 13 years.  “We’re really hoping that folks will join us for one or more of our events this month… or just drop down for lunch or dinner anytime before we close.  We want to have a chance to say goodbye to our customers. It’s an important part of closing this chapter of our lives.”

The restaurant will not be open for brunch on Saturday, May 18^th, due to a private function. Because of the imminent closing of the restaurant, reservations(902-422-9162) for all of these special events are highly recommended, to avoid disappointment.

BAM! Now go get your reservations settled, everybody.

For three days I walked down what my friend Iain called the “Trans Canada Emergency Exit”—the hallway that bypassed everybody’s favourite drive-thru, New Brunswick, and brought you straight to the other Atlantic Provinces in the sprawling back room of the Saltscapes Expo set-up at Exhibition Park. For three days I would always stop and take a gander of the projection of fish that hazily swam above on a gauzy strip of fabric. I honestly have no idea what they were promoting, but it’s one of my favourite images of the weekend. Good work, fish!

The reason I was at Saltscapes for three days was to act as head judge of Taste of Nova Scotia‘s Cutting Edge Chef Competition, a black box competition that brought 10 chefs from across the province together to use some wonderful local ingredients and show off their skills and spontaneity in a lighthearted competition.

A herd, or dazzle, or murder, or whatever you call a bunch of people who judge chef contests of… well, of other people who judge chef contests took turns sitting in the other two seats throughout the weekend. Over the weekend I was joined by the likes of Slow Food Nova Scotia‘s Lia Rinaldo, Nicholetta Bokolas from the lovely blog Pepper + Paint, Patrick Sullivan from NS Tourism, Global Maritimes’ early rising Morning News weather gal, Jill Chappell, and some other thoughtful food fans from other blogs, media and food and tourism organizations. Although I avoided making any Pamchenko jokes based on the tragic and incomprehensible lack of traction my Cutting Edge joke made on Twitter—and perhaps because I avoided that—lots of laughs were had as we watched the chefs sweat it out on stage. The Kilted Chef, Alain Bossé makes that pretty easy. He and Christine from Taste of Nova Scotia have the unique kind of hosting chemistry you need to keep people engaged and entertained at an event like this. They did great.

So here’s the deal: two chefs would face off with four surprise ingredients that had to be included in their dish. They were gifted a sous chef from the audience to cook with, and then while they were trying to push out a cohesive dish in a half hour, they were also harangued by Christine and Alain the entire time, expected to answer questions and entertain. The most common answer heard by the chefs all weekend was “uh… what? uh… what? was the? question?” which was admittedly a better way to engage the audience than saying the “would you fuck off already?! I’M TRYING TO COOK.” they probably wanted to say.

The first match was Chef Christopher Ware from Seasons by Atlantica and Chef Craig Flinn from Chives. Their black box ingredients were snow crab from Victoria Co-op, double-smoked bacon from Meadowbrook Meat Market, quark from Fox Hill Cheese House and Passito, the first red wine—a blend of Marechal Foch, Leon Millot, and Luci Kuhlmann grapes.

On day two, Chef Shelley Steventon from The Old Fish Factory and Chef Matthew Krizan from Mateus Bistro had a bit of a South Shore battle, representing Lunenburg and Mahone Bay, respectively. They had to use Meadowbrook Meat Market chorizo sausage, Propeller & Garrison IPA, rainbow carrots from Dominion Produce, and some of Sugar Moon Farm’s delicious maple syrup.

Later that day, Chef Roger Joharchy from Atlantica Hotel & Marina Oak Island and Chef Jon Geneau from Rhubarb in Indian Harbour out there at beautiful Peggy’s Cove were lucky enough to use some of the province’s best seafood—cooked lobster from Fishermen’s Market and fresh mussels from AquaPrime Mussel Ranch—along with Tiday Bay from both Luckett Vineyards & Avondale Sky Winery, and Valley Flaxflour flax flour. Chef Geneau, in my opinion, got the pick of the bunch when it came to sous chefs. The lady that worked with him was such a delight to watch; at times it felt like he could have just sat down and had a beer. She chopped and stirred and was clearly having such a joyful time on stage. If I could have picked a winner for everything that weekend, I would have picked her. She was like a little plaid ray of sunshine.

On the final day of competition Chef Chris Velden from Tantallon’s Flying Apron Cookery battled with his protege Chef Jason Townes from Halifax’s Press Gang, where I assume Christina Hendricks was probably shucking oysters a few months back if I’m reading between the lines of FLARE Magazine correctly. Once again Meadowbrook provided the meat: free range chicken. Their box also had Haksap juice from LaHave Natural Farms, Scotian Gold apples and Farmer John’s summer savoury.

The last battle was straight out of the wild west: Chef Dale Nichols from Digby Pines and Chef Rolad Glauser from Shelburne’s Charlotte Lane rustled up a couple of plates with Digby scallops supplied by Clearwater, Cornect Family Farm honey, Terra Beata’s dried cranberries, and a bottle of rum from Ironworks Distillery. Glauser, a previous winner, really nailed the audience participation, bringing one of those cool Industrial Revolution Ice Cream Balls with him, and making an amazing savoury ice cream by filling it up and having the crowd toss it around until it was ready.

At the end, Glauser’s showmanship brought him to a 2nd place finish, with Jon Geneau coming in a close third. Just edging them out for the win was Matthew Krizan from Mateus Bistro in Mahone Bay. He made a chorizo meatball stuffed with quark, which he served on a risotto made with IPA and some caramelized rainbow carrots. It was delicious. It all was.

But if I had one suggestion to make to chefs who want to win next year’s competition, it would be: TOE PICK!

• First things first. Coffee. There is a type of fungus called roya, or rust that is affecting coffee plants throughout Central America. The CBC takes a gander down south to see what is happening, and how this could affect your daily cup of joe.

• Next, sticking to libations, Slate asks if peat- as in the stuff that makes scotch so distinct – is a renewable ressource

• The Chronicle Herald discusses the launch of the popular – and hard to get – Benjamin Bridge’s Nova 7. And this time, there’s enough for everyone. 

• Speaking of booze, I have a fondness for Pimm’s, but one can only drink so many Pimm’s Cups. Serious Eats gives a few tips on cocktails with the lovely liquor.

• Spring in Atlantic Canada is often heralded by a few select plants. Chives, for example. But we musn’t forget the first “fruit” of spring, rhubarb. Saveur looks into the history and uses of the plant, which is one of the few vegetables used in sweet pies.

My partner Dave mentioned it in passing.

“The chives have already started sprouting,” he said.

Like it wasn’t a big deal.

This is bigger than the days getting longer, or the temperature outside getting warmer.

This is a promise, albeit a very quiet one, of things to come.

This humble, green, oniony little plant poking out of the ground

Welcome spring.

Chiles in Port Of Spain, Trinidad

•  Meat Monger/Farmer (and former Passable Podcast subject)  Chris deWaal was recently asked to write an op-ed for the site Rustik on what he calls “the real cost of food.” Check it out.

• A great read in the NYT about a woman in Portland who teaches people all about butchery: from slaughter to quartering to learning about cuts, and most of all, the value of the life taken.

• A writer at Slate writes about his experience with the scorpion pepper, the most current “hottest pepper in the world.” Why, oh why, do people do this to themselves…

• Although I tend not to post press releases, this one was worth noting. A group in British Columbia claims to have harvested black truffles in the Fraser Valley.

• I know I’m guilty of this one: the misuse of the word “unctuous”, as decried by the Huffington Post.

• Although you wouldn’t think of The Smithsonian’s website as a great place for food writing, in this case you would be wrong. The story of Kolaches and the wonders of Tex-Czech cuisine.

• As for us writers at Passable, while Melissa was away in Spain eating amazing meals (you should really read her series of Dinners with Albert) I had the opportunity to write about the humble yet potent Haskap berry, and its possible impact on Nova Scotia.

The third, and obviously final, Albert Adria restaurant I visited when in Barcelona was Tickets. Maybe it was wrongheaded to start with 41° and end with Tickets, but that’s what happened. And, ultimately, Tickets was my least favourite experience. By far. It’s not that the food isn’t terrific. In fact, it is terrific. But I found the kitsch a little overwhelming, and it felt a little more Britney Spears  than Barnum and Bailey when it came to the Circus theme.

The El Bulli olives were, once again, present. So that was a treat. But after the experiences at 41° and Pakta, Tickets almost felt derivative in a diminishing way; dishes were never the exact same—aside from the olives—but some were similar to what I felt were better counterparts. With the restaurants being touted as such difficult gets in terms of reservations, you’d kind of hope that if someone lucked into a trip to each of them that the culinary experience would be somewhat broad, but it definitely started to seem limited in scope by the end of the trip through Adria’s menus.

Tickets is also the only restaurant where I was flat out underwhelmed by some of the courses offered. Our server gave us what we hoped was a thoughtful journey through some of the dishes, but what turned out to feel more like a calculated con to sell a bunch of dummies one of everything in an order that not only got less impressive, but also had us feeling more and more forgotten in the growing hubbub of the noisy restaurant. Thank God for the cotton candy tree at the end of the meal, which was a delightful high note on which to end the meal.

A week of eating at so many great restaurants, from small hole-in-the-wall tapas restaurants like La Cova Fumada and El Xampanyet to grand experiences like 41°, is bound to leave one spoiled, and I have to admit that I do feel like that’s what happened here. Because Tickets is, in the light of day and the clarity of retrospect, clearly an excellent restaurant. But in the scheme of my trip, 41° was Spiaggia where Tickets was East Side Mario’s. Does that make me sound like an asshole? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Bada Boom, Bada Bing.

Here are some photos:

It was like having dinner inside a Stereolab song.  From the dots and loops, wow and flutter, and what were projections of des étoiles électroniques on strips of plastic that hung from the ceiling like small portals to otherworldly planets full of butterflies, statues and swirling starscapes, 41° is modern and whimsical, buzzing with the the same sort of cerebral experimentation and orchestration you find in the lush sonic swirl of Mars Audiac Quintet.

41° is named for Barcelona’s degree of latitude. It is in the Poble Sec neighbourhood, to be exact. The restaurant is, in long form, called the 41° Experience, but with the exacting level of detail and atmosphere that engulfs you in an almost new-age spaciness, the experience itself is one of 360°. It’s a small, intimate space—only 16 guests for the evening—with a few low banquettes and lounge-y club chairs. The staff fly around the small space like a murder of crows, dressed in black and swooping down with birdlike precision to remove empty dishes. Without fail, each of the servers—young, hip, and each one worldly in his own way—has a friendliness and ease that sits in harmony with professional courtesy. There is no stiffness or pomposity in the service; after a course where the plate was coated in a fall of vinegar snow and my utter lack of grace toppled a snowbanks’ worth onto the table, with a laugh one of them said “Merry Christmas!” as he cleaned it up. The jefe de sala, Sergi Vicente, was charming and effusive, ensuring that each degree of experience outside of the food was a pleasant one.

The winter menu which we partook in on April 2 ranges from Mediterranean to Japanese, Mexican, Nordic, Vietnamese, and Peruvian. The famous El Bulli olives make an early appearance along with some dried tomato and feta cheese. Dishes are named everything from Pizzicato 5 to Forest Floor. There are oysters, banh mi, sea urchin, spring green peas, beef tenderloin, black truffle, calçots, Iberian ham, and black cod in various compositions and constitutions. Wine and cocktail pairings selected by the incredibly talented sommelier, Christina Losada, alternate between punctuating and understating flavours with a thoughtful deftness that we truly appreciated by the end of the night.

It’s truly a beautiful restaurant, an experience that more than lives up to its name. Here are photos from our lovely meal. For the records, there are more than 41.

And so, in Barcelona this past week, through a series of happy coincidences and well-timed legwork, between Ron, my friend Lisa and me, we were able to secure reservations at Albert Adria’s trio of Barcelona restaurants: Pakta, 41 Grados, and Tickets. Being the lucky fifth wheel who was vacationing at the same time as two couples, I somehow managed to be the luckiest of all, getting to all three restaurants for meals. Kristina started calling our vacation My Dinner with Albert, since we were basically sharing our lives over these dinners and we all consider ourselves as talented and interesting as Wallace Shawn. (We don’t. Because nobody is. That is, to put a pin in it, inconceivable!)

Pakta was an especially exciting reservation since we would be dining on what was only the third day that the restaurant had been open to the public. Our server informed us that they had been beta testing the menu with friends of the restaurant in the month before. We can only imagine that those tests resulted in some A+ grades, because that’s ultimately what we all gave the restaurant. The cuisine is Nikkei — Japanese/Peruvian fusion concept. Chefs Kyoko Li and Jorge Muñoz run the two kitchens, which sort of flank the dining room, giving every diner a chance to peek into the inner workings.

As much as I’d like to wax poetic about each item, at this early stage in the restaurant’s existence, I’m guessing that I’ve already hit the TL;DR PICZ PLZ short attention span wall. So here you go; PICZ YR WLCM.

In case it’s not clear. This is the first in a 3-part series.