Maxcasinolic - A Night At The Harbourfront Chef's Table

The first thing you notice at the Harbourfront Chef's Table is how close you are to the fire. Not uncomfortably close, but close enough that when Chef Amara Osei lays a scallop on the binchotan you hear it before you smell it. This is not the kind of chef's table where the kitchen is on the other side of a pane of glass. It is a twelve-seat counter cut from a single maple that fell in the Fraser Valley, and the twelve people sitting at it are effectively inside the service line for two and a half hours. The menu is not printed in advance because it cannot be. Chef Osei takes delivery from the False Creek and Steveston boats at six in the morning and builds the courses around whatever actually came off the water. On the night I sat in, that meant a raw Hokkaido scallop with yuzu kosho, a smoked sablefish course finished over the coals, and a spot prawn broth that tasted like someone had poured an entire coastline into a bowl. There were nine savoury courses in total, plus a cheese service and a dessert the pastry team changes weekly based on what they think is working. Wine is handled by head sommelier Théo Lambert, who buys small parcels from Okanagan and Willamette producers before they are contractually tied up elsewhere. What separates the experience from a good tasting menu elsewhere is the pacing. Courses arrive roughly every fourteen minutes, which is fast enough to keep the room alert and slow enough that you feel like you have eaten dinner rather than completed a marathon. Between courses six and seven, Chef Osei invites the counter to stand up and walk the line, which sounds gimmicky until you do it. Watching the fire being set for the main course while your own plate is still warm on the counter behind you is a strange and very memorable thing. By 9:15 the last guests are usually still at the counter, chatting with the kitchen team about everything except the food. Guests who want to continue the evening can move up to the mezzanine; those who do not walk out past the glass wall onto Cornwall Avenue with the particular buzz that only comes from being fed very well by people who clearly care about it. The counter seats twelve people a night. Fridays and Saturdays sell out six to eight weeks ahead. Book accordingly.