One of my pet peeves about living in Vancouver is that there are too many white folks from Toronto who are always complaining about our lack of cultural diversity.
Yes, I know. I sound just like a whiny white person from Toronto, which I am. But honestly, what is there to moan about?
According to the latest census data, visible minority groups in Metro Vancouver account for 41.7 per cent of the population (only slightly behind Toronto's 42.9 per cent), led by one of the most diverse Chinese communities in the world.
So what these other Torontonians must really be saying is that there aren't enough black people here - and Chinese food all tastes the same.
Embarrassed as I am by my narrow-palated homies, it's true that there are not many Vancouverites of African or Caribbean origins (only 1.64 per cent of the total population).
And even though I can appreciate the difference between Singaporean laksa and Sichuan dan dan noodles, I must admit that I miss beef patties, pepper pots and spicy jerk chicken too.
Enter Calabash Bistro. This new Caribbean restaurant and reggae-centric performance space is a welcome breath of hot, sticky air that should satisfy those annoying Torontonians - and anyone else who craves a taste of the tropics.
Although laid-back and casual, Calabash has an upscale pedigree by virtue of its owners: Roger Collins (a longtime Chambar server), Sam Willcocks (one of the original founders of Cassis Bistro) and chef Cullin David (sous-chef for the last decade at Provence Marinaside).
The trio isn't trying to replicate any of the restaurants at which they've worked before. Calabash curves outside the box as much as the hollowed-out gourd vessel after which it's named.
First, there's the location, behind the Pennsylvania Hotel on the sketchy edges of the Downtown Eastside where even hardened Torontonians still fear to tread.
The inner-city address - which made it easier to obtain a live-music and dance licence - was actually a draw for the owners, who view music and art as essential ingredients in their flavourful stew.
Lunch and dinner is primarily (though not exclusively) served upstairs, in a cozy, yet fairly simple restaurant space adorned with bright red paint, lots of green plants and black souvenir pennants.
The basement is far more architecturally interesting. This is where the building's historic bones peek through a red-lit skywalk of leadlight windows and around the wrought-iron dome of an old elevator carriage, which serves as a stage cage for drum sets.
If eating upstairs, you may not even realize that there's a DJ down below spinning the reggae, soul, hip-hop and R&B tunes in real-time. (Calabash is home to Foundation Radio, an Internet and podcast station founded by Mr. Collins.)
The menu isn't fancy. Chef David serves hearty soul food that is intended to fill the belly and remind you of home - be it Toronto or Trinidad. There's oxtail stew and leafy-green callaloo soup, a full jerk board and several different curries (served with rice and beans or stuffed in a roti).
The regular dishes and multiple daily specials hop all across the West Indies and sometimes cross a few islands at once.
Saltfish (reconstituted cod) is normally sauteed with ackee, the fleshy, oily national fruit of Jamaica. But the day I visited, it was being served in a traditional Guadaloupean salad ($11) tossed with lots of red onion and fresh cilantro.
Fry Fish ($12) is a Bajan-influenced snapper filet, lightly marinated in jerk sauce and dredged through flour that's been subtly seasoned with coriander, peppers, dried herbs and a touch of smoked paprika.
But Mr. David, who was born and raised in Vancouver and is of Guyanese and Irish descent, is hesitant about attaching provenances to his recipes.
"Everyone does the same dishes," he later says by phone. "You can't win. Whatever you do, someone's going to say 'It's not very good, it's not like my mom made it.'" (I wonder if that's why the waitress dissuaded me from ordering the ackee.)
Ital Stew ($11), which I also regret not trying, is actually a root-vegetable Rastafarian dish. The name is derived from the word vital, not Italian. And it's seasoned with dry herbs and coconut in place of salt, which Rastas don't eat. Interesting.
Baked goat-cheese curry on mixed greens ($9) could use more spice. On several dishes, Mr. David seems to be hedging on the safe side of bland. The Torontonians will not be pleased.
Customers can ask to have any dish kicked up, or simply pour on a dab of the fiery homemade hot sauce. But be careful what you wish for. The jerk sauce - slathered over vegetables, chicken breast, salmon or fish of the day, $10 to $14) is a no-holds-barred mouth burner.
A late-night snack could easily be made out of the ginger plantains ($5), a sinful warm side dish stewed with garlic and red peppers. Just add an order of coconut and cornmeal dumplings ($4), served hot and chewy straight out of the fryer.
The dumplings also make an appearance at dessert, stuffed with guava jam and melted Brie. It was a special for the opening-night party that proved so popular the chef kept it on as a regular feature.
But that's about as experimental as it gets. This kitchen is all about rock-steady, traditional Caribbean cuisine.
The cocktails, by comparison, are a free-jamming jump up. Bartender Jay Browne (formerly of the Revel Room) puts his extensive rum collection to creative use in a ginger-syrup-splashed mojito and the divinely delicious Tek Out, an Appleton rum martini shaken with tamarind syrup, Cointreau-infused Earl Grey tea, fresh orange juice and homemade chocolate-fudge molasses.
Bet they don't have that in Toronto.