Thicket Ticket

 Cocktail Correspondent: Weldon Gardner Hunter

Monday, July 1: The big summer Bank Holiday. My brother and I are going to visit the Steveston Tram in Richmond, so we plan to meet at Brighouse Station, but we actually meet on the train after I get on at Marine Gateway. There's a very annoying young couple who are talking about how many languages they speak and the boy has a very loud voice. The train is filled with the energy of people who don't get out much and are really excited to have a reason. I roll my eyes sanctimoniously.

At Brighouse, we board a bus labelled "SPL" and it's a free accordion bus to the Salmon Festival in Steveston. As we go down Steveston Highway, we pass the vast blueberry fields and a housing development named "Cassis." This, in the business, is foreshadowing.

I thought Richmond would be crickets on Canada Day but it's bursting with people. Consider me a stunned Canuck. I should not have counted my chickens before they hatched. This is more foreshadowing.

The Tram has a line up of families waiting to board, and the little interpretive centre appears to be closed. We decide to visit the excellent Steveston Bookstore (3760 Moncton Street, Richmond) where I buy William Golding's Free Fall and Compton Mackenzie's Extremes Meet, the latter in a lurid 50s paperback edition. Mackenzie is the monarch of the Interwar comedy/spy genre. My brother purchases two Thor Heyerdahl books: Aku-Aku and Fatu Hiva. Good books for an adventure. 

The mission: to find a burger and a beer in a place that's not completely packed. But before this, we walk down a significant portion of the West Dyke Trail. We saw a cat:

Natural Beef

and some cows ...

Belted Galloways

We trekked to the highest point (we decided) in the whole of Lulu Island. We named the hill Crabapple Mountain:

You have to understand that Richmond is very, very flat.

This wasn't the official highest point of the journey, though - not narratively, anyways.

Fast forward to Free Bird Table and Bar (5991 Alderbridge Way, Richmond). Richmond is full of "airport" hotels, and Free Bird is a large space on the lower level of one of them. 

The Climax: the beer and the burger are acquired. Mission Accomplished. But the journey isn't over.

The Resolution: I need to try a cocktail. I have never quaffed a cocktail in Richmond, the land barely above Sea Level. When the Big One comes, the soil of Richmond is going to liquify, so I decide to get a headstart & ordered a Signature Berry Lemonade.

Here's the menu.

Here's the drink.

St. Remy Signature Brandy, Créme de Cassis, Lemon, Blackberries, Soda. Here's how it resolves: from the SPL, passing the berry fields of Southern Richmond, to the SBL - a drink with copious berry taste. I feel like Richmond has major potential as a bastion of berry-forward cocktails. Who wants to run for mayor on this thicket ticket?

I liked the SBL, but the Brandy is buried (berried?) in the mix, like a bassist for a 60s garage band recording a studio with a producer who hates rock n roll. Nevertheless, as a beverage to end the journey, it hit the spot.

Free Bird is a fairly vast space, complementing the city's spacious berry farms. It feels a bit like a British gastropub, with hints of the Farrow and Ball paint job that signifies a pub-to-restaurant conversion in Old Blighty.

While we were visiting, the France/Belgium football match was on. I cheered for the De Rode Duivels, mainly because of their dark, rich-brown berry-coloured kit, but they let us down that day.

Denouement:; I'll be back to try more cocktails at this friendly space. My brother and I caught the Canada Line and I parted with him at Oakridge/41st, bidding him Aku-Aku, Fatu Hiva. 

And the same to you!