Chef Profiles
My Dinner With Andrey
By Fiona Morrow published Dec 30, 2007
Skate pee through their skin, you know." Andrey Durbach is giving me a crash course in some of the finer points of piscine anatomy as he shops in Chinatown for something to put on the menus at his restaurants, Parkside and La Buca. A few minutes later, we're hunkered down over raw beef in Phnom Penh, one of his favourite haunts, putting the culinary world to rights. At 40, Durbach's a powerful presence-he talks long and loud, pushing his hands through a shock of receding curly hair, rubbing eyes that show the evidence of many a late night.
The mention of molecular gastronomy sets him foaming: he hates intellectual food and the avant-garde crockery it's plated on. "Give me Spanish ham. Give me a great piece of fish with salt and pepper, a squeeze of lemon," he all but yells. "Keep your essence of watermelon with tarragon marshmallows." If his traditionalism is unfashionable right now, it's hardly unwelcome. Indeed, at a time when diners in Vancouver can choose among any number of stylish spots, Durbach (along with his business partner Chris Stewart) has quietly cornered the mid-range market, consistently filling his restaurants. As we dine, in October, the third room of the burgeoning empire is on its way: Pied-à-Terre, a 34-seat modern French bistro on Cambie Street. He's in an ebullient mood.
Eight years ago, things were different. Durbach was then shutting up shop on his first operation, Etoile. "I scraped together all my pennies and begged and borrowed the rest and opened in the spot where Rare is now," he recalls. "I was right across the street from Il Giardino and I figured that even if I tanked I could live off the crumbs of their overspill. Now I look back," he adds, shaking his head. "That's the stupidest reason to do anything: if you're banking on someone else's castoffs, you're done before you open."
