Vancouver Loves Cooking Schools

During boom times, Vancouverites support one of the healthiest restaurant scenes in North America. Come the downturn, though, we look homeward. In times of plenty, people eat. They seek enjoyment and the odd celebration. In times of turmoil, people eat too. What better way to fortify the mind, body and spirit against the wolves at the door?

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During boom times, Vancouverites support one of the healthiest restaurant scenes in North America. Come the downturn, though, we look homeward.

In times of plenty, people eat. They seek enjoyment and the odd celebration. In times of turmoil, people eat too. What better way to fortify the mind, body and spirit against the wolves at the door?
But while it seems eaters seek indulgence and nourishment regardless of the economic climate, the venues change. During boom times, Vancouverites support one of the healthiest restaurant scenes in North America. Come the downturn, though, we look homeward. But there’s one upturn in today’s downturn: people want to prepare more than frozen dinners or the old stand-bys, and an interest in cooking and entertaining has led to a profusion of cooking schools.

“I’ve been talking to a few chefs who run top restaurants and they told me that December was horrific,” says Jenna Mawjee, director of Cookshop, one of the oldest cooking schools in the city. “But that was one of our best months ever. People are investing in their kitchens and their skills.”

Cooking schools have suddenly become a growth industry in Vancouver. Last August Chambar restaurant, for example, converted the space next to its Beatty Street premises to a cooking school named Dirty Apron, and its classes have been maxed out almost every night since. Head chef David Robertson says attendees take classes for a crash course or to pursue a lifelong hobby, but, in either case, it’s mostly about sending people away feeling more confident and inspired. “Food is very practical,” he says. “It doesn’t need to be complicated. You just need someone to explain how to do something or how to use something.”

Taking cooking classes is also about replacing the restaurant experience. Robertson explains that one group of Dirty Apron regulars is typical: the women used to eat out together but now go to the school twice a month instead. What makes it especially rewarding for him, he says, is when students say things like, “I had the sablefish here in your class, and I had it in a restaurant last week, and I enjoyed it here more.”

On a typical evening, students bundle up after a Dirty Apron class to face the rain outside. As they file out, they pause to shake Robertson’s hand, thank him, and ask questions about topics like knife sharpening or ingredients.

The latter is a particularly hot topic these days. “So many people want to know what to cook, but for me it’s as much about good ingredients as it is about recipes and techniques,” says Murray Bancroft, a local chef and food stylist who has been consulting with Cookworks to create new in-store interactive cooking demonstrations and a 12-class series. He’s designed the program to feature several local food and wine producers as well as local chefs.

He says the recent upswing in class attendance is partly about recession-related home eating and entertaining and partly about the coincidental proliferation of food blogs, magazines and TV shows. People see those, think, Wow, and want to “up their game,” he explains.

To feed these heightened expectations for home cooking and entertaining, Bancroft helps customers develop new cooking techniques and knowledge, but also gives lots of advice about how to pull off a good evening with guests, which often comes down to doing less: “I always tell people not to do anything too fancy.” He encourages doing one thing well, usually something simple and in season, “which will enable you to have anyone over, from any walk of life,” and have both you and them think, “that was great.”