Gone fishin’

I’ve mentioned this before, but it was such a unique thing that it bears repeating: When I first had fish and chips at Pelican, it was better than anything I’d had in 12 years in Vancouver. 

It made enough of an impression that I made Pelican a regular dining destination. It’s been a few years since I wrote about it, and with some new menu additions, it was a good excuse to pop in.

This restaurant is clearly beloved by a majority of regulars, and in Ottawa’s dining scene, there doesn’t appear to be anything quite like it. It’s constantly busy, and it’s one place where I recommend reservations at any time of day or night. As industry folk like to say, “It’s a good problem to have.”

Given its popularity and the general aesthetic, you can be forgiven for thinking that you can’t expect much more than family-friendly fare. You’d be wrong, of course, and that goes for something as standard as a Bloody Caesar. 

Yes, it’s the classic Clamato juice, but they season it in their own way, adding pickle, pickle vodka, sweet jumbo shrimp and that inimitable Caesar rim seasoning of their own invention.  If you love this cocktail, it’s a memorable one and worthy of indulgence.

As they are their own fish merchants, you can expect a superior level of freshness, and the way to experience that is through their ceviche. 

Plump whitefish and shrimp are cured in lime and seasonings and then accompanied by quality corn chips and magnificent roast pineapple salsa that lend a deeper facet when all components are enjoyed together. As if it needed to be said, the pineapple salsa, as with everything else on the menu, is made in their kitchen.

It’s easy enough to dismiss a Caesar salad as it’s become such a standard on menus everywhere, and that includes too many pubs and fast food outlets. The lettuce is commonly fine, but it’s the other ingredients that often fail to meet the moment. 

What I appreciate about the Pelican version is that the dressing is simultaneously light but with full-on flavour. Never too salty, too heavy with lemon, parmesan or garlic and never too (and here I’ll use a technical culinary term) gloopy. 

The croutons are seasoned and not just cubes of stale bread and the lardons still have some chew and are of a properly cured bacon.

The room at Pelican is welcoming, with always friendly and attentive service, but you wouldn’t place it in the category of fine dining. Except when it comes to the food.

They offer staples like oysters, shrimp cocktails and seafood towers, but it’s with their mains that the kitchen demonstrates an elevated sensibility.

The Blacks Harbour salmon was well executed in every respect. With this dish, the eyes ate first. It was a scene of colours, levels and textures. 

The salmon was cooked through yet supremely moist, and the beet purée, along with the accompanying dots of citrus créme fraiche, were a delight with every mouthful of fish.

The side of arugula with pickled fennel and orange added the necessary fresh and bright notes to play against the rich salmon. Even the lone beet crisp, having been brined prior to drying, was next level. 

I take it as a testament to the pride the kitchen takes in creating new recipes when dishes like this are served. As I’ve said, Pelican is not suffering for lack of customers, so it would be easy for them to just coast. Instead, Executive Chef Ben Baird and his crew provide forever-new takes on seafood.

They are also mindful of their customers in another way: the cost of dining out. Regulars may have recently noticed that the menu no longer offers scallops, and that’s because the prices have so dramatically increased. It just wouldn’t make sense to have them on the menu at the prices they would need to charge. That’s conscientious management.

I’m seldom one to indulge in desserts, preferring instead a sweet libation to close a meal, and here I wanted to try something. I asked John, our server, if it was possible to make The Last Word cocktail.

I’d seen a bottle of Luxardo Maraschino liqueur on their back bar, but the other key ingredient—green Chartreuse—is notoriously hard to find in Ontario.

He returned minutes later with a very credible interpretation in a lovely coupe glass. The bartender had properly stocked Monk’s Secret herbal liqueur from the SFR Distillery in Kanata. 

I’ve been to bars and restaurants where they can’t make such cocktails, but it’s this level of attention to detail and respect for their patrons' tastes that customers so appreciate about the Pelican experience. 

It would have been easy to dismiss my request, but they went out of their way to make it happen. Our server later said that he had learned something new. Even the manager stopped by to say how he appreciated that a customer had ordered a pre-prohibition cocktail and that it exposed the bartender to a new recipe.

That, as much as the food, is what will stay with me.