Insanely fresh fish in Tofino
Bold flavours trump a few missteps at celebrated Wolf in the Fog
“I’ve seen wolves up here. The first time, I saw one walking into town on a foggy night, walking parallel with me down the street.”
For chef Nick Nutting, that embodies Tofino’s allure. So guess what he named his restaurant. I’m sure you’ve heard of Wolf in the Fog; accolades came knocking soon after opening in 2014 including top spot in en Route Canada’s Best New Restaurant Awards.
Last year, Bon Appetit magazine blew into town, resulting in a 12-page spread with Nutting inviting them along for an “afternoon of foraging, driftwood-fire cooking and plenty of fried oysters down by the water.”
A wolf has followed Nutting to the restaurant — a freaky one, constructed out of driftwood which surveys second-floor diners. (Downstairs is a more casual room where you can grab a coffee or order off the menu, whatever you like.)
Before opening Wolf in The Fog, Nutting was the chef at Tofino’s legendary Wickaninnish Inn and before that at Montreal’s Garcon restaurant. At his own restaurant, he wanted fun, he wanted accessible.
Downstairs, locals in fishing gear can go in for burger and fries (made with grass-fed beef from Vancouver Island and brioche-like bun) or barbecued chicken.
But then there are more sophisticated dishes like seaweed salad with daikon, puffed wild rice, or bone marrow with crab shrimp butter.
The dish that brings people to their knees is the potato-crusted oysters. Oysters are blanched, quick-cured in salt and sugar and cold-smoked in alder. Potato strings are blanched, cooled, dusted with cornstarch, wrapped around the oysters and then fried. It’s perfection.
“We do 2,800 of them in a month and can plate a hundred in 20 minutes now. It’s our gateway to oysters dish,” Nutting says. That is, it should crush any oyster reticence. Still sniffy about oysters after trying it? All hope is lost.
Wolf in The Fog’s personality materialized during construction when Nutting and business partner Jorge Barandiaran hung out.
“We had free time, made dinner and served up whole fish like at home,” says Nutting. “It’s the vibe we wanted to create.”
That’s where the idea for serving a punch bowl drink arose, as well as some family-style serving options that could be downsized to individual servings.
To start, I loved the bread. It reminded me of Doukhobor bread I’ve had in the West Kootenays with a crackly exterior and an elastic, flavourful interior. I’ve mentioned the potato-wrapped oysters — no question. Just order it, OK?
Other dishes had great ingredients, assertive flavours and inventive moves, but I had an issue or two.
Chili squid and pork jowl with green papaya, cucumber, Thai basil and coconut ($17) featured amazingly tender and tasty squid.
The pork jowl, however, was mostly fat and a detraction.
For mains, we tried the bone marrow with crab shrimp butter, leek, fiddleheads and tarragon ($30). A great dish, balanced with a fresh crab salad, but I found the marrow difficult to scrape off the bone.
Corn-crusted boneless short-rib with side stripe shrimp, corn, ramps and brown butter ($65 for two, $32.50 for single) featured scrumptious beef and beautiful shrimp but it came on a bed of roughly hewn, almost raw, red cabbage, difficult to cut through even with a steak knife.
I know it’s a rustic dish but the cabbage needed a finer cut and cooking until tender. For dessert, a lemon meringue
pie, deconstructed. Piped dollops of curd sat atop a rectangle of shortbread and it was crowned with piped dollops of torched meringue.
The elements were nicely executed but I’m not a big fan of deconstructed classics.
They’re classics because they stand the test of time.
While dishes were not perfect, the restaurant gets high marks for insanely good seafood, progressive ideas and techniques, a sophisticated, intriguing wine list (predominantly B.C. and European) and progressive cocktails by Hailey Pasenko (Nutting’s wife). The most asked-for is the Cedar Sour, a whisky sour infused with red cedar.
“With the first sip, you think of a log cabin or sauna,” says Nutting.
The menu offers a $10 “six pack for the kitchen,” a kind of tip for the kitchen; on a good night, up to 20 diners tip the kitchen that way.
Only thing, there’s a percussion of pot-banging from the kitchen when cooks score another six pack.
Noise level is a constant and charged complaint I hear from diners over 35-ish. Stop it!