Fans celebrate Team Canada's first goal inside LiveCity Downtown's beer tent.

You couldn’t have asked for a more fitting finale to the Vancouver 2010 Games – Canada vs. U.S.A. in a gold medal hockey game on Canadian soil.

I took in the action today at LiveCity Downtown, perhaps the best place in the city to see the game outside of Canada Hockey Place. As I made my way across town and toward the gates, a swirling roar of cheering was rolling round and round the city. Something special was in the air.

A raucous sea of red enjoys Canada's early lead in the men's hockey final.

Inside, LiveCity Downtown was filled to capacity. Gates were shut, leaving forlorn fans to enjoy the spectacle from the street, and those of us lucky enough to make the cut packed inside. I managed to make my way into the beer tent just as the first puck was dropped. Olympic fashions had been taken to new heights for the occasion. I saw Maple Leaf rain boots, bikini tops and underpants (though not all on the same person). Every other face glimmered with red and white paint, and Canadian flags were outnumbered only by beer cups, which were stacked everywhere.

The sea of red and white boiled and roared every time the Canadian squad put a shot on goal (Woe to the handful of U.S. fans in the room, timidly waving American flags at their peril). With the first Canadian goal, a wall of sound spread over the room – It almost felt like one of those sonic waves you see in the movies. From there on out, LiveCity Downtown was in full party mode.

Not an ounce of face paint was spared for the gold medal hockey game.

After the first period, I checked on the action outside. A thousand or so fans were packed tightly in front of the giant outdoor screen. Bodies pressed in on the sides struggling for a glimpse. Canada’s second goal unleashed a flurry of flag-waving and frenzied clangs of untold cowbells. The rout, it seemed, was on. Giant Canadian hockey players on stilts strutted through the crowd, jabbing at a lone American fan with their sticks.

Throughout the third period, a booming chorus of “Luuuuu . . . . . ” rumbled every time Canadian goalie Roberto Luongo stopped a shot. With just minutes to go and Canada up 2-1, the crowd was downright giddy. With each second, the crescendo of cheering and cowbells grew louder and louder until suddenly – with a mere 25 seconds left – the U.S. evened things up. Then, after a collective groan, LiveCity downtown fell abruptly silent.

Despite some tense moments, the sun would ultimately shine on Canada hockey.

But, of course, we all know that the story isn’t supposed to end that way. After all, this is Canada’s Olympics. And here was the Canadian Team going for gold in the sport that Canada had invented. As if to affirm that things were indeed going to be alright, the sun suddenly shone down on LiveCity Downtown after days of rain and clouds.

Canada celebrates hockey gold at LiveCity Downtown.

And, a few minutes later, it was over: the storybook ending to a magical Olympics in Vancouver. The instant after Canada’s Sidney Crosby took the game-winning shot in overtime, LiveCity Downtown erupted. Strangers embraced and high-fived. I’m sure that I saw several grown men with tears in their eyes. Little kids, almost frightened at the tumult, ran around waving flags. Then, in a spontaneous decision, the crowd poured out and began marching up West Georgia Street. Beyond lay Robson Square and probably the biggest street party Vancouver has ever known.

Olympic pins are serious business at the Coca-Cola trading centre in the Bay.

Inside the Olympic superstore at the Bay this afternoon, it was pure pin-demonium. The Bay is one of three official Coca-Cola pin trading sites in the city of Vancouver. The collecting and trading of Olympic pins dates all the way back to the first modern Olympics in 1896. It’s since grown into a cult hobby, whose enthusiasts are just as fanatical as hardcore baseball card or comic book collectors. And for the last two weeks or so, Vancouver has been their headquarters.

Gladys Wallack from Cypress River, Manitoba, shows off her collection of Olympic hockey pins.

Inside the Coca-Cola trading centre at the Bay, I meet Gladys Wallack from Cypress River, Manitoba. Today, she booked a three-hour trading block at one of the official trading tables. Laid out in front of her are hundreds of different pins from the Vancouver Games, from smiling mascots to First Nations symbols to pins given out by corporate sponsors. Over the last 25 years, Gladys has traded at 11 different Olympic Games. It’s a labor of love, an excuse to take vacations and a great way to meet people, she says. But it’s also a serious pursuit. Hard to find pins garner big bucks: A shiny USA hockey jersey pin that sold in stores for $10 a week ago just went for $107 on eBay, Gladys says. A loose set of protocol governs trading at the Games. If you’re brandishing multiple pins on your scarf or lapels, it’s a signal to other traders that you’re in the market. Anything you wear is technically up for grabs, although the terms of the deal are entirely up to you. To interrupt a trade in progress is considered the height of rudeness. And, of course, money is never supposed to change hands (Well . . . that’s the idea, at least).

Fans from around the world have left behind pins to mark their native cities.

Back at Gladys’ table, I get to witness a transaction take place. A sweet-looking girl – volunteer at Canada House, according to her badge – walks up and points to a shiny silver pin on her scarf. “Do you have this one?” she asks. Gladys nods – It’s a common pin, but she might be interested anyway. The sweet volunteer peruses Gladys’ stash for a suitable trade, finally pointing to a First Nations pin. But the Aboriginal stuff is hard to come by: Gladys declines. The tension mounts. While the deal is hammered out, I explore the rest of the pin trading centre. On one wall, hundreds of different brand-new pins are on sale for $10, ranging from tiny Team Canada hockey jerseys to iconic Vancouver landmarks. On the opposite side of the room is a giant world map festooned with pins left by visitors from different countries. There’s even a special station where for $12 you can get your picture taken with a replica torch and affixed onto a pin of your own.

Hundreds of different brand-new pins are for sale.

Back at the pin table, a trade has been brokered. In the end, Gladys reluctantly parted with a cute Miga, one of the hard-to-find mascot pins in short supply at the Games (Other red-hot items include anything to do with Canada hockey and pins featuring the Games’ iconic red mittens). But Gladys doesn’t look worried. She slides back one tray of pins to reveal another one glittering beneath with dozens of Canada hockey pins. “This is my powerhouse,” she says. The atmosphere in the pin trading centres represents a unique bit of Olympic culture. It’s definitely worth a trip, although it’s much easier to get inside at the Vancouver Airport and CTV locations (Bay visitors have to wait on the lengthy Olympic superstore line). In general, collectors are an easy-going lot. Stop by and they’ll gladly show off their wares . . . just as long as you don’t call them pin-heads.

Vancouver’s Winter Games have an official credit card, cola and cold medicine, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that there’s an official wine gracing Olympic tables.  Last week, I had a chance to cover the Olympic wine scene for Wine Spectator.  Among the highlights: discovering North America’s first Aboriginal-owned winery, tasting with Napa Valley wine royalty Margrit Mondavi and sampling the Olympics’ own brand of bubbly.   The reporting was included in a special Olympic Unfiltered column on WineSpectator.com.

Olympic Champion Lindsey Vonn says, ‘Cheese!’

WineSpectator.com

Inside the big Indian longhouse erected in the heart of downtown Vancouver, a bit of Olympic history is taking place. Vancouver 2010 marks the first Olympic Games ever in which an Aboriginal community—Canada’s First Nations peoples—has participated as an official host. Guests at the Chief’s House, as the quirky, postmodern Aboriginal Pavilion is known, enjoy traditional Inuit throat singing, buffalo burgers and wines from North America’s first native-owned winery . . . .

Click here for the full article on the Wine Spectator site.

Canadian fans celebrate after Kristina Groves captures silver in ladies' 1500-meter speed skating.

With Team Canada licking its wounds after a men’s hockey defeat, it’s important to remember that every cloud has a silver lining. And today that silver came courtesy of Kristina Groves, who finished second in the ladies’ 1500-meter speed skating finals at the Richmond Oval, bringing home another silver medal for Canada. I zipped out to Richmond on the Canada Line this afternoon to see the action. After a week of canvasing Olympic parties and Olympic houses, I was excited to finally be among the few, the proud, the ticketed. This would be my first time inside an Olympic event, and – with several top Canadian skaters competing – chances for gold were good.

Wearing more orange than a highway crew, Dutch fans get into party mode before speed skating finals at the Richmond Oval.

But first I had to get past the Dutch. On the approach to the Oval, which commands a scenic spot on the Richmond waterfront, I started spotting them, clad in orange capes, robes and goofy hats. For a nation of only 16 million people, the Netherlands produces an extraordinary amount of skating talent. Today, it seemed as if most of Amsterdam were on hand to cheer their ladies on.

As luck would have it, my seats were smack dab in the middle of the Dutch contingent. Before the race, the crowd was boisterous, toasting copious amounts of what I presume was Heineken and blasting away on improvised air horns. But once the first pair of skaters lined up on the track, the Dutch grew deadly serious. The atmosphere was a world away from the wild scene inside Olympic hockey games. Don’t let the orange jumpsuits fool you: The crew from the Netherlands is all business.

The ice is cleaned during "half-time" of the ladies' 1500 meter finals at the Richmond Oval.

The first few sets of skaters whizzed around the track while the Dutch fans looked on, duly noting split times and other arcane speed skating details lost on me. Then, the first Dutch skater slid up to the starting line. From the moment Annette Gerritsen took off, a wave of horn blasting, cheering and bright orange pandemonium in the stands escorted her round and round the track. Heads snapped as she whipped by, eyes narrowed on the striding figure in orange and black. Gerritsen set the mark to beat early on, and the Dutch never let up.

The real excitement came at the end of the event, when the last few pairs of skaters squared off. Eventual Dutch gold medal winner Ireen Wust registered a blazing time, well in front of her closest competition. Canadian Brittany Schussler then took to the ice but lost steam at the end of the race and finished well back of the pack. Then, to a furious clanging of cowbells, Canadian Kristina Groves skated to the starting line.

I’ll confess that up until this point I had been a bit underwhelmed with my first Olympic experience. This might seem counterintuitive, but live and up-close the event didn’t seem nearly as dramatic as on TV. There were none of the instant replays, none of the slow-mo shots of athletes grimacing in exertion, none of the fancy graphics and music that had kept me glued to the set for the last week. And, with all deference to the Dutch and speed skating, I couldn’t see what the big deal was about plowing around an icy circle on a set of extra long blades.

Canadian fans rise to their feet during the final heats of the speed skating finals.

But when Groves took off, all the excitement, the patriotism and the spirit that surrounds the Olympics was – just for a moment – channeled right into the Richmond Oval. The venue shook, with enough force to make me worry about the integrity of its big eco-friendly roof, made out of more than one million board feet of pine beetle-damaged Canadian lumber. I suppose this kind of thing happens whenever a Canadian athlete goes for gold in an event here in Vancouver. All the hoopla around the Games, if only for an instant, makes perfect sense.

Groves was agonizingly close to the gold medal mark for most of the race but slipped a few tenths of a second behind in the home stretch. Still, it was good enough for silver, not to mention a timely lesson. The Olympics, at root, is about the sports. If you’re not out there experiencing the events live, you’re missing a big piece of the picture. And, contrary to popular belief, it’s not too late to get tickets. VANOC’s fan-to-fan marketplace, the official ticket resale clearinghouse, still lists tickets for nearly every event (though you may have to pay a bit extra for procrastinating).

Vancouver's got great restaurants, but what about its street food?

The secret is officially out on Vancouver’s food scene. Earlier this month, The New York Times declared Vancouver among “the best eating towns in the history of the Winter Games.” Gourmands and epicures the world over are – at this very moment – feverishly blogging about the city’s innovative restaurants and chic-chic bistros. But for me, a city’s culinary clout isn’t just about the gourmet stuff. To truly be a culinary capital, a city has to deliver on the low-end, as well. And it doesn’t get any lower end than street food – no waiters, no tables, not even a door. New York’s got great street food. So does Tokyo. But how does Vancouver stack up? The answer: If you can find street food in Vancouver, it’s bound to be good. But finding it is the tricky part. Stringent health and sanitation by-laws mean there are very few vendors actually selling food on city streets. There are plenty of hot dog carts, of course, but not the kind of cornucopia of sweet and savory treats you see in other places. However, what Vancouver lacks in abundance, it makes up for in diversity, novelty and sheer deliciousness. 

The Terimayo at Japadog is topped with teriyaki and seaweed.

I checked out the street food scene this afternoon. Sure enough, the Olympic masses had quickly discovered the hidden (and not-so-hidden) gems. At Japadog, an innovative hot dog stand with an Asian twist, lines were even longer than usual. At the Burrard Street cart, I waited patiently for a Terimayo ($4.75) – a beef sausage topped with teriyaki, seaweed strips and Japanese mayonnaise. It might sound unconventional, even gross, but one bite and you’ll understand the appeal. The Japanese flavors – from seaweed, to daikon radish, to bonito flakes – complement the strong, smoky dogs in unexpected and delightful ways. And that’s not just my opinion. Celebs and food-hounds as diverse as Anthony Bourdain, Steven Seagal and Ice Cube have all raved about Vancouver’s Japadogs.

A favorite of Granville Street revelers, Babylon Cafe serves big, juicy shawarmas.

Next up, I headed to the busy intersection of Granville and Robson streets, both car-free for the duration of the Games. I was still a block away when I smelled the heavenly shawarma from Babylon Cafe. Now, technically, Babylon Cafe isn’t street food. They operate out of a storefront the size of a walk-in closet, with just enough room to pick up your order and be on your way (and you better be quick about it!). Their specialty is marinated chicken or lamb, roasted on a spit, then wrapped in a pita with lettuce, tzatziki sauce and tabouli ($5.95 and $6.95 respectively). Many places do shawarmas in Vancouver (or donairs as they’re also known), but few are so consistently busy and none cranks out such an intoxicating, stop-dead-in-your-tracks aroma. This afternoon, the line outside Babylon stretched nearly to the end of the block, filled with hungry fans dressed in red and white.

Cafe Crepe is Vancouver's late-night spot for snacks with a French twist.

Catty-cornered across the intersection from Babylon Cafe is another Vancouver (and Canada-wide) institution: Cafe Crepe. Again, street food purists might take issue with this choice. But, while there is a sit-down area, most patrons grab a crepe at the big take-out window in front and munch on the run. The place is open 24/7 during the Games, attesting to Cafe Crepe’s status as standby for late-night revelers along Granville Street. Crepes come in sweet and savory versions and range in price from $3.95 all the way up to $10.10 for a Speciale de Cafe Crepe, which includes Nutella, hazelnut and Grand Marnier. Stuffed already, I topped off my street food circuit with a simple butter and sugar crepe ($3.95), which comes wrapped up much like a burrito or gyro. A bit doughy for my liking, but – after a night on the town – it might be just the thing. I know I’ve just scratched the surface on this subject. Please weigh in with your picks for Vancouver’s best street food!

Granville Street is one stop on the unofficial Canada Line pub crawl.

The Olympics have transformed Vancouver in many ways, not the least of which was the construction of the Canada Line – the city’s gleaming new rapid transit system. Built over four years and at a cost of more than $2 billion, the Canada Line enables Olympic visitors to zip all the way from the airport into downtown Vancouver in fewer than 30 minutes. And after the Games are finished, it will allow commuters from the city’s suburbs easy access to the heart of the city, saving time and reducing Vancouver’s carbon footprint. But the Canada Line can also be put to less noble purposes.

Shortly after the inauguration of the train last summer, party-minded Vancouverites began noticing that many of the Canada Line’s stations are conveniently situated near bars and clubs. The Canada Line pub crawl was born. The route isn’t set in stone and it would be impossible to visit all the bars along the way, but the crawl has caught on – offering a cheap, safe vehicle for a night of revelry and carousing.

In honor of the Olympics, I decided to do a mini Canada Line pub crawl of my own, visiting four stops right in the heart of Olympic action: Waterfront, Vancouver City Centre, Yaletown and (with an easy connection via the new Olympic Line street car) Granville Island. As I emerged from Waterfront Station, I found myself engulfed in crowds. The whole area is a nexus of Olympic action – with the city’s hotel district, the Main Media Centre and the ever-popular torch all clustered in the same few blocks.

I worked my way a few blocks over to Gastown, the lively waterfront neighborhood with no shortage of watering holes. To start the crawl, I headed into the Irish Heather, a relatively new player on the Vancouver pub scene and one that prides itself on authenticity. Inside, the ambiance is all dark wood and Guinness. I ordered an R&B Raven Cream Ale and was tempted to stay for the Heather’s unique communal dinner, where guests sit at one long table for a single, prix fixe Irish meal.

Start your pub crawl at the Irish Heather in Gastown, which also offers Irish meals at its really long table.

But duty called. While I could have walked to my next stop, I hopped back on the Canada Line to keep things official and got off at Vancouver City Centre, which is just next to the Granville Street pub and club district. I took a peek at the Irish House (which adjoins Doolin’s, another classic Vancouver Irish pub), but the long lines to get in were intimidating.

Instead, I found my way to the Railway Club, a Vancouver drinking institution tucked away on the second floor of a commercial building on Granville and Dunsmuir. The atmosphere in the Railway, which does indeed have a miniature train running through the bar, is always festive – even more so tonight with 250,000 Olympic fanatics in town. I downed a Central City Big Kettle ESB, another local microbrew, and continued on my way.

The Irish House near Granville Street makes a good stop on the crawl (But expect a much longer queue than in this rare line-less photo).

Next stop was Yaletown, the city’s trendy warehouse district and party central during the Games. Once the big LiveCity celebration site closes down at 11:30 each night, the bars along Hamilton and Mainland Streets fill with revelers looking to keep the party going. A popular spot is Society, a dining lounge located halfway down Hamilton Street. Inside, the big, open room is dominated by an oversized pink chandelier that looks a little like a pulsating jellyfish. To switch things up a bit, I tried one of Society’s signature drinks, a bourbon milkshake spiked with Jim Beam. Delicious – But in retrospect maybe not the best choice (What’s that saying about beer before liquor . . . ?).

Crowded in the afternoon, Yaletown's pub zone gets even busier at night.

My last stop of the night required a little leg work. I took the Canada Line to the next station, Olympic Village. From there, I caught the free Olympic Line streetcar to Granville Island, a waterfront district filled with gourmet shops, artisans’ workshops and – at night – several lively bars. During the Olympics, Granville Island is also home to some highly regarded party places – The Swiss House, Place de la Francophonie (see Julie’s great post) and Atlantic Canada House.

I stopped at the long line outside Atlantic Canada House, where fans had queued up to get inside the Kitchen Party – a small bar transformed to look like a Halifax pub that has nightly live music from back East. Inside, I couldn’t help sampling some of the local brew, a fiery liquor called Shine from Prince Edward Island.

Atlantic Canada House makes a great terminus for the Canada Line pub crawl, just expect a wait to get inside.

Needless to say, it was fortunate that I had decided to limit my Canada Line pub crawl to just four stations. Anyone else tried the crawl? Any recommendations for bars to visit along the way?

Like birthdays and anniversaries, Olympics tend to be the kind of thing that sneaks up on you.  Next Friday, the 21st installment of the Olympic Winter Games kicks off in Vancouver.  Now, I live here.  For at least the last five years, it’s been just about all anyone has talked about.  But I know that the rest of the world has had more pressing things to worry about than crowning the next Nancy Kerrigan.  The good news is that if you still want to come, there are plenty of flights, beds and tickets available (For a price, of course).  I broke it all down for The Washington Post.

Vancouver Snapshot: Last-minute travelers’ sprint is a quadrennial Olympic event

By Remy Scalza, Special to The Washington Post

So between slogging your way through the Great Recession and following the inaugural season of “Jersey Shore,” you haven’t had much time to think about the Olympic Winter Games starting in Vancouver, B.C., on Friday. But now, all of a sudden, those Morgan Freeman commercials for Visa — the ones with the slow-mo shots of Olympic glories past — have you in the spirit. You want in, front-row center, as the next generation of Apolo Ohnos is crowned.

Is it too late? Maybe not.

Click here for the full article on The Washington Post site.

Maybe Ben Franklin had it right.  Turkey booster until the bitter end, Franklin railed against the choice of bald eagle as America’s symbol.  “He is a bird of bad moral character,” Franklin wrote. “He does not get his living honestly.”  Up close, it definitely looked that way.  I had a chance to visit Brackendale, B.C., the world’s self-proclaimed bald eagle capital, while researching a story for The Washington Post.  A few eagles kind of looked like the majestic bird on the back of the quarter, but most were busy tearing into rotten salmon, which end up floating in the rivers after spawning is over.  One local lady called them nothing but big seagulls.  Still, it was pretty impressive to see dozens all in one place.

Vancouver snapshot: Bald eagles find a home in Canada

By Remy Scalza; Special to The Washington Post

The highway turnoff is easy to miss. On the rugged stretch of mountain road that connects Olympic cities Vancouver and Whistler, B.C., just past the midway point, is a small, handmade sign. Look hard and you’ll see a bald eagle in profile, beak painted a brilliant yellow, beady eye aglow.

Next stop: Brackendale, self-proclaimed World Eagle Capital.

“One year, we counted 3,769 bald eagles in one day,” says 40-year resident and avian enthusiast Thor Froslev. “You practically had to have a hard hat on to go outside.”

Click here for the full article on The Washington Post site.

Vancouver snapshot: Japanese cuisine beyond sushi

Welcome to the dark side of Japanese dining: izakayas. Greasier and louder than a sushi joint, these Japanese pubs have invaded Vancouver, B.C.

Izakayas have reportedly been around for a few hundred years in Japan. Their patrons, mostly men, congregate after work to drink and snack on deep-fried tofu, chicken and savory salads — the buffalo wings and nachos of a parallel universe — before heading home, often roundly soused. But like the hibachi and sushi before it, izakaya cuisine has found a global following, and Vancouver, with its strong ties to Japan, is at the forefront of the izakaya explosion.

Click here for the full article on The Washington Post site.

The guys who make ice wine are kind of like the Ice Road Truckers or Ice Pilots of winemaking. They don’t harvest their grapes until the dead of winter, when temperatures dip to 15 degrees below freezing. Usually, they work at night, when it’s so cold that the clusters shatter off the vine and the grapes themselves are frozen solid. From their sacrifice, we get the heavenly stuff known as ice wine – sweet, potent and addictive, like wine but superconcentrated, purified by the cold.  I got the chance to explore British Columbia’s ice wine country in an article for The Washington Post.

December is harvest time for ice wine in the Okanagan region of Western Canada

By Remy Scalza; Special to The Washington Post

For the grapes, it must be agony.

High above Okanagan Lake, in a frozen corner of western Canada, the wind is whipping through the vineyards in icy blasts. Long after first frost, deep into winter, the grapes here have waited, shivering on the vine. Now, in late December with the temperature falling fast, their polar purgatory is nearly over. It’s harvest time in ice wine country.

Click here for the full article on The Washington Post site.