InFocus Magazine

To Beverly Chalk, no matter what kids go on to do in life, an early exposure to the performing arts is a huge gift.

Chalk, recently appointed president of the North Island Festival of Performing Arts (NIFPA), sees first-hand how beneficial the arts can be. “If gives self-confidence, they have to find their strength and inner core and young people do that intuitively when they engage in learning a piece of prose, a hip-hop routine, a tune—whatever it is,” she says. “The sooner they start the better. If fine arts are introduced later in life, too often teenagers are blocked from their creativity because of self-consciousness, a feeling that it’s not ‘cool’, which isn’t there in young children.

“I see the positive attitude that all these young people have, the huge sense of accomplishment they feel after their performances,” adds Chalk. “I think performing arts can help a young person form their ideas of who they are, before something else comes along to do that.”

The North Island Festival of Performing Arts provides an ideal opportunity for kids to get their feet wet performing in front of audiences and adjudicators. A non-profit society, NIFPA has been dedicated to providing this annual festival for students of the Comox Valley and surrounding communities for more than 30 years. Last year 17 students were chosen to represent NIFPA at the Provincials. The adjudicating portion of the festival takes place in February; following this are two grand finales—an Honors Concert, which will be held February 26, and the Dance Gala, to be held February 27.  These concerts also act as fund-raisers for NIFPA bursaries and scholarships.

NIFPA’s goal is to advance, promote and develop the performing arts in its various forms, and to encourage performing arts as an adjunct to community life.   Performing arts include Ballet, Stage Dance, Modern Dance, Brass, Woodwinds, Strings, Ensemble, Speech Arts, Choral Speech, Piano, Voice, Choirs and Fiddle.
Chalk, along with fellow board members—including Carol Martin, who recently took on the role of education and publicity—are keen to have more local involvement in NIFPA. “We want to get the word out that it’s a friendly, supportive festival, open to anyone who has the desire to perform a piece of prose or poetry, tell a story, play an instrument or dance,” says Chalk. “That includes adults too! Anyone is welcome to enter and it’s not necessary to be given a mark; a few adults enter just to have the benefit of the critique from the adjudicator.”

Small wonder, as there are many highly experienced and qualified actors, musicians and dancers sitting in as adjudicators, offering a wealth of knowledge. Jonathan Love is a stage and screen actor who has also dubbed for cartoons. Professional ballerina Erica Trivett, who has recently returned to Vancouver after years in Europe as a soloist and choreographer, will be sharing her insights with young dancers.

So You Think You Can Dance, the popular TV show, is possibly the biggest spur dance has had since the days of big bands, when everyone went out dancing. Sherrie Scherger, assistant choreographer to Sean Cheesman—who gives the dancers their moves for the show—will also be in Courtenay as the adjudicator for Stage, along with hip-hop professional Kim Sato. Sato likewise has a long list of credits to her name, both live and in movies and videos.

“It’s a tremendous opportunity for any performer, particularly if there’s a desire to go on and be a professional,” says Chalk. “These adjudicators are living proof that it is possible to make a living in the performing arts. We want to encourage anyone at all to enter and get the benefits of both performing, then having a critique afterwards. We want to encourage performing arts as an adjunct to community life.”

Participants come from as far north as Port Hardy, south to Parksville and east to Port Alberni. In February the Sid Williams will be buzzing with Festival performances. Speech Arts begins on February 1; the following week is strings, guitar and piano; the third week ballet and modern dance, with stage and hip hop the fourth week.

Audience drop-ins are invited throughout the Festival with the understanding that they will be seeing a series of performers who will be adjudicated—different from a show, with lights and non-stop performance.

Well established in the Comox Valley, The North Island Festival of Music was formed in 1977 by piano teachers from the Comox Valley and Campbell River. The name was changed to North Island Festival of Performing Arts in 1992, to better reflect all the disciplines involved. The organization is part of a not-for-profit charity under the umbrella of Performing Arts BC, which was established in 1964.

Many families are involved with parents and children attending the Festival, keen to participate and display their talents. One family travels from Campbell River weekly to receive coaching from someone who has been instrumental in the high standards and success of the Festival.

Eleanor Philips, despite being in her 80s, is still a dedicated teacher in speech arts. “The success of our children in competition has to be shared with Eleanor,” says parent Loreen Johnson. “She’s been marvelous.” All Johnson’s four children are currently involved in performing arts and are keen Festival goers. Carter is 13 years old and won the piano prize in the BC Provincial Festival last year; brothers Spencer 11, and Caleb, 5, and sister Sophia, 8 all compete in the speech arts, with the two oldest boys competing musically as well. This year, Spencer is part of a guitar group ensemble and is also playing two solo pieces. He has been playing for four years and thoroughly enjoys both practicing and competing. “I like being on stage,” he says simply. “I like performing in front of my parents and grandparents and all the other kids.”

Caleb is working on two poems, as well as a piece of prose and a monologue for this year’s Festival. “They’re funny, and I like making people laugh,” he says.
Their mom is enthusiastic about the benefits of performance at a young age. “It really imbues young people with a sense of confidence,” she says. “I think public speaking is the best gift to give kids. As well as building their confidence, it enhances their verbal skills.” The Johnson family is perhaps the most prolific in terms of entries and this year the Johnson children will participate in 21 categories at the Festival. Last year they carried off 15 firsts out of the 17 categories they entered in.

“The Festival isn’t just about picking the best though,” Chalk points out. “Sometimes a child may not be chosen for first place, yet the adjudicators recommend they go on to participate in the BC Provincial Festival. If they believe that the child will benefit from wider exposure to the artistic world, then that child goes on to the next level of competition.

This indirect education is an important part of the Festival, Chalk adds. “It’s not just about choosing the best. I like to see children given opportunities and I’ve been battling this in the schools systems. Too often the same children are given lead roles, time and again—why? It should be a place for encouraging and grooming children’s desires to do well and participate in the arts. How is little Janey or Jimmy to know whether or not they like being on stage—and most children do—if they’re not given the opportunity?”

As one might expect, Chalk’s own children all participate in the performing arts. Kaitlin, now 16 years old, and a past performer in dance, is a volunteer at this year’s event, time-keeping being one of her tasks. Her younger sisters Courtney, 14, and Cassidy, 8, will be dancing.

Chalk herself grew up in a family that sang and played devotional music. Her dad was a band teacher with the Salvation Army and as a young girl Chalk was more than happy and willing to go to band boarding school for three weeks in her summer holidays. “I began playing an instrument in Kindergarten and music was always a part of my upbringing,” says Chalk, who performed in her first musical when she was six years old.

“If young people aren’t ever exposed to piano playing, singing, dancing, whatever, how can they know they have a desire to do it? If they’re lucky enough to have a music teacher in primary school they can be part of a show or a concert, but that’s a bit hit and miss. Sparking that creativity at an early age is crucial, I think.”
President of NIFPA for a year, Chalk recognizes that she is able to build on a strong foundation built up by past president Collette Marshall, known to all as Sam. “Sam was the president for 12 years and she and the board have established the Festival of Performing Arts as an organization with high standards of excellence. I’m pushing the envelope a little further, by reaching out to the wider community of the North Island to participate and support this Festival. I could not be enjoying what I’m doing right now if things had not been brought along to this stage.”

To that end, Chalk and the board are changing things slightly this year. “There is a re-definition of the categories—musical, vocal and speech arts are no longer lumped together; they each have a separate category. With the adjudication, we’re getting the word out to participants through their teachers that it is only one person’s opinion—we all have our pet likes and adjudicators are no different.

“We’re seeing this as an interpretation of a performance piece, and marks are never publicly announced on stage. I sensed that the public was a little intimidated by the process, and we don’t want that. We want to be seen as the organic, approachable living organism we are, rather than a staid and rigid body. The adjudication process is that after the performances in a particular class, all the kids are called back to the stage and the professionals in their field will give feedback to them all. The classes are broken into age categories as well, and professionals are not eligible for grants or bursaries. Placements will also not be announced at that time. We want to change the focus of the kids from being first to participation. Too often they don’t hear any of the remarks made by the adjudicators once they’ve been told their mark,” says Chalk.

“Dance is generally a group activity, but more often the music and speech are individuals. There is now going to be a grouping of kids who don’t want to be graded or given a mark on their efforts, but only receive adjudication. It’s all about the kids and educating them. I don’t want to water down the competitive aspect—I believe competition to be healthy and a growth process—but I realized that within the scope of where we live, we want everyone to get up and compete. This innovation allows for that, and it will be completely unknown to the other participants.”

All the marks of the competitors will be online as well as posted in the lobby of The Sid, but not announced publicly.
Most entrants to the Festival are part of a studio, or a group. Dancers have to be part of a studio to enter because of insurance liability, but individuals can participate in the other disciplines. Quite a few home-educating families take advantage of the Festival with its opportunities to learn from highly experienced professionals. Two of the Johnson children are home-educated in fact.

“Most of the teachers in the Valley are familiar with the Festival, and without their hard work that has been going on for years, we certainly wouldn’t have the high standards we do. Kymme Patrick does wonderful work with young people in the dramatic arts, as do the drama teachers in the high schools,” Chalk says.
Chalk, too, continues to learn in her role with NIFPA. “One of the most surprising things to me has been how much I’ve enjoyed hearing and seeing players in disciplines that didn’t interest me before, particularly,” she says. “I hadn’t paid much attention to strings and vocal in the classical field, so it’s been a delight for me learning more about that. The adjudicators can demystify areas of the arts that perhaps we aren’t so familiar with.”

The winners, as well as other participants recommended by the adjudicators, go on from the North Island Festival here in Courtenay to the BC Provincial Festival. This year it is to be held in Duncan, and it moves around the province each year.

One of the participants last year was John Rim, a 14 year old whose family now lives in Comox. Rim moved here in 2005 from South Korea and has been a violin player since he was four. He took the strings award and went on to the BC Provincial Festival. Rim also plays clarinet and Korean drums in the Mark Isfeld school band. His particular favorite composer is Vivaldi, whom he likes because his works can be played quickly and energetically. Rim has been chosen as an adjudicator this year in the strings section. As well as a classical strings component, there is also a fiddle section.

“We’re hoping to expand the repertoire of the Festival locally to include things like jazz and rock-a-billy,” notes Chalk. “They may remain outside of the National Festival scope, but they could be adjudicated within our own local region.”

As fine arts are now under severe threat financially in our school, and the position of fine arts coordinator may be chopped by the school board due to lack of provincial funding, the Festival of Performing Arts may take on even more significance. But it’s obvious that under the direction of Beverly Chalk and the board of NIFPA, there is a dedicated commitment to educating and encouraging young local performing artists.

For more information go to www.nipa.org. Admission to each adjudicated session is $2, or $10 for the month. The Festival Variety Showcase will take place Friday, February 26 at 7:00pm and the Festival Dance Gala on Saturday, February 27 at 7:00pm.

When Kevin Munroe and partner Shelley Bouchard opened the Mad Chef Café in Downtown Courtenay last November, this site
their mission was nothing less than to shake up the Comox Valley dining scene. Barely two months after opening their doors, unhealthy they’re already off to a good start.

The Mad Chef Café has quickly become popular with those looking for a casual dining experience with a bit of an edge, mind
or at least one that’s different from what’s currently available. Its menu features such original creations as “The Boom! Boom! Steak and Prawn Stack,” a hearty soup known as “Sweet Curry Meets Fruit Fury” and, for those who don’t mind a little spice, “Rectum Sensation” chicken wings.

Even more controversial is the name of Munroe’s most popular sandwich: “Animals Taste Good.” But while the name may be as offensive to the militant vegan set as a leather-clad Republican cowboy on a dude ranch, Munroe insists that he’s not out to offend.

“It doesn’t matter what it says on the menu, as long as it tastes amazing,” says Munroe. And besides, when grilled chicken, crispy bacon and piles of shaved ham are topped with pepper smoked Brie and “crazy” mayo, animals really do taste pretty good.

“It’s insane food with attitude,” declares Munroe, a red seal chef who’s worked the kitchens of Valley hot spots like Atlas Café, the Kingfisher Resort and the Pier Bistro. “It’s not your ordinary menu. It’s not Italian, it’s not Mexican; it’s just awesome food with no pretension.”

Almost as popular as the food itself, says Munroe, has been what he calls the “attitude.” Each item description on the menu is followed by a clever quip, like “Welcome to the jungle,” “Who’s your Mad Daddy?!” or, in the case of Animals Taste Good, “Snort, growl, bark, moan or just do whatever it takes to get this one down!”

“Everybody’s been loving the attitude,” says Munroe. “With so much negative going on in the world today, this is a place where even the menu can make you laugh. No one laughs as much as they should.” That, perhaps more than anything else, is what the Mad Chef Café is really all about.

“We believe in fun dining,” says Bouchard. “There’s nothing worse than going out to a restaurant where you just don’t feel comfortable; where you have to watch how you sit and which fork you use. This isn’t that kind of place. It’s a place where you can relax, be yourself and just enjoy great food with great friends.
And the Comox Valley certainly has been enjoying it. In its first month of business, Bouchard says the Mad Chef Café was consistently feeding more than 100 hungry customers a day. In a cozy space that only seats 26, tables were being “flipped,” or re-sat, as many as five times during a single lunch service.
“Business has been phenomenal,” says Munroe. “So far we’ve done much better than we expected we would do.

“A lot of people have been coming in from out of town,” he continues. “We’ve had so many questions about whether we’re a chain, and everybody wants to know if we’re in their city. Even the Mad Chef Wear has been taking off!”

Munroe’s Mad Chef Wear clothing collection, available exclusively at the Mad Chef Café, includes toques, hats, onesies (in “Chick Pea” and “Bean Sprout” varieties) and t-shirts featuring memorable captions like “Tofu Ninjas Kick Ass” (the graphic depicts three SpongeBob-esque tofu nuggets kicking, punching and hurling carrot nunchuks at a defenseless donkey).

“We had 20 Animals Taste Good t-shirts made and only three of them were left after Christmas,” says Bouchard. “We’ve had a lot of people buying them for their vegan friends or vegetarian friends.”

So what’s the secret to the Mad Chef Café’s early success? Part of it surely has to do with its feisty and slightly irreverent brand, and opening up just in time for the Christmas rush likely didn’t hurt either. But what some may be inclined to chalk up as fortunate timing is at least partly due to the buzz generated by an incredibly effective publicity campaign before the restaurant even opened.

For starters, Munroe and Bouchard had been driving around the Comox Valley for months in trucks emblazoned with “Mad Chef Café” in a vibrant green font, with “Coming soon” printed just below.

“I’d have people stopping me at red lights and yelling at me, asking when we were going to open,” recalls Munroe. “People were so excited by the name; they were like, ‘What is that?’”

Young and web savvy entrepreneurs as they are, Munroe and Bouchard were also quick to take their budding venture online with a Facebook fan page. On the world’s largest social media site, the duo posted updates, photos and teasers as their building was being renovated, attracting more than 400 followers before they even opened. (Munroe and Bouchard just awarded a free cheesecake to their 500th fan last month.)

Now that they’re open, Munroe and Bouchard continue to use Facebook to share photos, stories and, perhaps most notably, their daily specials.

“We’ve been getting lots of orders for our free downtown delivery, and a lot of it is because of Facebook,” says Bouchard. “There are so many people working downtown who call or come in for our specials. We don’t even have to tell them what the special is, they already know.”

The budding realm of social media marketing is one thing, but isn’t this the ultra competitive restaurant business, where the cardinal marketing rule of “Location Location Location” rings truer than ever? Maybe so. Either way, the owners of the Mad Chef Café, which sits on Fitzgerald Avenue just an aggressively flipped burger away from Fifth Street, feel they’ve got that one covered too.

“If I were to open up anywhere in town it would be this location,” says Munroe. “It’s the perfect size, and we’re visible from one of Downtown Courtenay’s busiest intersections.” The restaurant occupies the former site of Orbitz Pizza, which closed down after a fire ripped through the building and forced several businesses to relocate due to smoke damage.

“I think that more than anything this corner needed to be reactivated,” says Bouchard. “A lot of the businesses that we’ve talked to on the block said that this part of Fifth Street has been dead since the fire. There was no foot traffic; you’d never see anyone on the block.”

While the growing popularity of the Mad Chef Café is certainly starting to change that, Munroe and Bouchard hope to do even more to breathe new life into the block.

Once the weather allows, the Mad Chef Café will feature a long, 18-seat patio along Fitzgerald Avenue that Munroe and Bouchard hope will become a popular summertime hangout for local urbanites. And with the Broken Spoke Coffee House, located just around the corner, planning to open its own patio in the spring, the Mad Chef Café could become the hub of a hip new urban strip.

With all the buzz and anticipation surrounding the opening of the Mad Chef Cafe, I was excited to finally try it out for myself.

As soon as I stepped through the door for my first Mad Chef experience, I knew that this would be a fun place. The vibrantly painted walls, in funky green, orange and grey hues, reverberated with the hum of the lunchtime crowd. My wife and I were fortunate to snatch the last remaining table, and so we hungrily grabbed our menus and began perusing.

If I’ve learned anything about Kevin Munroe, it’s that he doesn’t do anything half-assed. So instead of a simple one-page offering of standard fare like you might find at another brand new restaurant, we got to leaf through seven pages of soups, salads, “clubwiches” and lots more. Luckily, there was plenty of “attitude” to keep us entertained along the way.

Munroe is especially proud of his unrivalled selection of 10 different burgers—er, I mean “Crazy Mental Psychotic Insane Mad Chef Burgers”—which include chicken, duck, lamb, seafood and two vegetarian varieties. Then there are the seven ciabatta-bread pizzas, including the “Hawaiian Hammer,” the “Double Ducker” and the “Chicken Chicka Wow Wow.”

My wife, who’s a celiac, found several gluten-free options and eventually chose two appetizers, the spicy and flavourful Tongue Tantalizing Tiny Tuna Tacos and the Stuffed Alligator Pears (an avocado stuffed with fire roasted red onions, smoked corn, fresh cilantro and three cheeses).

As it turns out, the Mad Chef Café is quite accommodating of guests with dietary considerations, such as celiacs and—despite all the “Animals Taste Good” rhetoric—vegetarians. In fact, since our visit the Mad Chef Café has created a special celiac menu, highlighting items that are gluten-free or can be easily altered to be so.
The restaurant is also becoming a quick hit with kids, who receive a paper Mad Chef’s hat that they can color and wear, as well as a dish of homemade cotton candy with every meal.

As a young boy studiously colored his chef’s hat at the next table over I finally decided to try the Mad Chef Burger. My decision was made partly because of the way the menu dared me to try it (“Are you MAD enough?”) and partly because whenever Munroe talked about his signature burger he’d be overcome by the sort of giddy excitement normally reserved for high school boys who inadvertently discover a Victoria’s Secret catalog in their mailbox.
Once I tried it, I could see why he was so excited.

Several years ago I set out on an informal quest for the best burger in the Comox Valley. If the Mad Chef Burger had been around back then, it would have won hands down. The garlic and green peppercorn all-beef patty would have won the contest on its own. The piles of shaved ham and the ice cream scoop of Munroe’s homemade “kick-ass beer cheese” that slowly oozed across the patty put it over the top.

As we dined, our waitress sauntered past with a massive chocolate brownie laden with sautéed Kahlua bananas, fresh mango and ice cream. It was the Mad Chef’s most popular dessert, the Chocolate F Bomb, and it was unfortunately destined for another table. Even more unfortunate was the fact that, once I’d worked my way through my burger and a side of brick-seared yams, there was no way I could even think about dessert.

The Mad Chef Burger is certainly the best I’ve ever eaten in the Comox Valley, and it rivals the best I’ve had anywhere in the world. But Munroe and Bouchard are getting used to this sort of praise. A local food critic recently recognized the Mad Chef Café as home to the best salmon burger he’d ever eaten, and three separate Facebook fans have voted its caesar salad the best in the Valley.

Nonetheless, the Mad Chef shows no signs of complacency. Every day Munroe comes up with new features for his fresh sheet, and he’s continually experimenting with exotic new creations, much to the satisfaction of his partner.

“The other day Kevin was experimenting with a “cheeseburgerrito,” says Bouchard. “It was a cheeseburger, bun and everything, wrapped in a tortilla and baked. It was so good! Another time he made these taco shells out of asiago cheese and made beef tenderloin tacos. I could have eaten those all night!”

The Mad Chef Café is expected to celebrate its official Grand Opening sometime in February. In the meantime, it’s open for lunch and dinner Monday through Saturday at 492 Fitzgerald Avenue in Downtown Courtenay.

To browse the Mad Chef Café’s menu online, and for other information, visit www.MadChefCafe.net or become a fan on Facebook.
When Kevin Munroe and partner Shelley Bouchard opened the Mad Chef Café in Downtown Courtenay last November, online
their mission was nothing less than to shake up the Comox Valley dining scene. Barely two months after opening their doors, they’re already off to a good start.

The Mad Chef Café has quickly become popular with those looking for a casual dining experience with a bit of an edge, or at least one that’s different from what’s currently available. Its menu features such original creations as “The Boom! Boom! Steak and Prawn Stack,” a hearty soup known as “Sweet Curry Meets Fruit Fury” and, for those who don’t mind a little spice, “Rectum Sensation” chicken wings.

Even more controversial is the name of Munroe’s most popular sandwich: “Animals Taste Good.” But while the name may be as offensive to the militant vegan set as a leather-clad Republican cowboy on a dude ranch, Munroe insists that he’s not out to offend.

“It doesn’t matter what it says on the menu, as long as it tastes amazing,” says Munroe. And besides, when grilled chicken, crispy bacon and piles of shaved ham are topped with pepper smoked Brie and “crazy” mayo, animals really do taste pretty good.

“It’s insane food with attitude,” declares Munroe, a red seal chef who’s worked the kitchens of Valley hot spots like Atlas Café, the Kingfisher Resort and the Pier Bistro. “It’s not your ordinary menu. It’s not Italian, it’s not Mexican; it’s just awesome food with no pretension.”

Almost as popular as the food itself, says Munroe, has been what he calls the “attitude.” Each item description on the menu is followed by a clever quip, like “Welcome to the jungle,” “Who’s your Mad Daddy?!” or, in the case of Animals Taste Good, “Snort, growl, bark, moan or just do whatever it takes to get this one down!”

“Everybody’s been loving the attitude,” says Munroe. “With so much negative going on in the world today, this is a place where even the menu can make you laugh. No one laughs as much as they should.” That, perhaps more than anything else, is what the Mad Chef Café is really all about.

“We believe in fun dining,” says Bouchard. “There’s nothing worse than going out to a restaurant where you just don’t feel comfortable; where you have to watch how you sit and which fork you use. This isn’t that kind of place. It’s a place where you can relax, be yourself and just enjoy great food with great friends.
And the Comox Valley certainly has been enjoying it. In its first month of business, Bouchard says the Mad Chef Café was consistently feeding more than 100 hungry customers a day. In a cozy space that only seats 26, tables were being “flipped,” or re-sat, as many as five times during a single lunch service.
“Business has been phenomenal,” says Munroe. “So far we’ve done much better than we expected we would do.

“A lot of people have been coming in from out of town,” he continues. “We’ve had so many questions about whether we’re a chain, and everybody wants to know if we’re in their city. Even the Mad Chef Wear has been taking off!”

Munroe’s Mad Chef Wear clothing collection, available exclusively at the Mad Chef Café, includes toques, hats, onesies (in “Chick Pea” and “Bean Sprout” varieties) and t-shirts featuring memorable captions like “Tofu Ninjas Kick Ass” (the graphic depicts three SpongeBob-esque tofu nuggets kicking, punching and hurling carrot nunchuks at a defenseless donkey).

“We had 20 Animals Taste Good t-shirts made and only three of them were left after Christmas,” says Bouchard. “We’ve had a lot of people buying them for their vegan friends or vegetarian friends.”

So what’s the secret to the Mad Chef Café’s early success? Part of it surely has to do with its feisty and slightly irreverent brand, and opening up just in time for the Christmas rush likely didn’t hurt either. But what some may be inclined to chalk up as fortunate timing is at least partly due to the buzz generated by an incredibly effective publicity campaign before the restaurant even opened.

For starters, Munroe and Bouchard had been driving around the Comox Valley for months in trucks emblazoned with “Mad Chef Café” in a vibrant green font, with “Coming soon” printed just below.

“I’d have people stopping me at red lights and yelling at me, asking when we were going to open,” recalls Munroe. “People were so excited by the name; they were like, ‘What is that?’”

Young and web savvy entrepreneurs as they are, Munroe and Bouchard were also quick to take their budding venture online with a Facebook fan page. On the world’s largest social media site, the duo posted updates, photos and teasers as their building was being renovated, attracting more than 400 followers before they even opened. (Munroe and Bouchard just awarded a free cheesecake to their 500th fan last month.)

Now that they’re open, Munroe and Bouchard continue to use Facebook to share photos, stories and, perhaps most notably, their daily specials.

“We’ve been getting lots of orders for our free downtown delivery, and a lot of it is because of Facebook,” says Bouchard. “There are so many people working downtown who call or come in for our specials. We don’t even have to tell them what the special is, they already know.”

The budding realm of social media marketing is one thing, but isn’t this the ultra competitive restaurant business, where the cardinal marketing rule of “Location Location Location” rings truer than ever? Maybe so. Either way, the owners of the Mad Chef Café, which sits on Fitzgerald Avenue just an aggressively flipped burger away from Fifth Street, feel they’ve got that one covered too.

“If I were to open up anywhere in town it would be this location,” says Munroe. “It’s the perfect size, and we’re visible from one of Downtown Courtenay’s busiest intersections.” The restaurant occupies the former site of Orbitz Pizza, which closed down after a fire ripped through the building and forced several businesses to relocate due to smoke damage.

“I think that more than anything this corner needed to be reactivated,” says Bouchard. “A lot of the businesses that we’ve talked to on the block said that this part of Fifth Street has been dead since the fire. There was no foot traffic; you’d never see anyone on the block.”

While the growing popularity of the Mad Chef Café is certainly starting to change that, Munroe and Bouchard hope to do even more to breathe new life into the block.

Once the weather allows, the Mad Chef Café will feature a long, 18-seat patio along Fitzgerald Avenue that Munroe and Bouchard hope will become a popular summertime hangout for local urbanites. And with the Broken Spoke Coffee House, located just around the corner, planning to open its own patio in the spring, the Mad Chef Café could become the hub of a hip new urban strip.

With all the buzz and anticipation surrounding the opening of the Mad Chef Cafe, I was excited to finally try it out for myself.

As soon as I stepped through the door for my first Mad Chef experience, I knew that this would be a fun place. The vibrantly painted walls, in funky green, orange and grey hues, reverberated with the hum of the lunchtime crowd. My wife and I were fortunate to snatch the last remaining table, and so we hungrily grabbed our menus and began perusing.

If I’ve learned anything about Kevin Munroe, it’s that he doesn’t do anything half-assed. So instead of a simple one-page offering of standard fare like you might find at another brand new restaurant, we got to leaf through seven pages of soups, salads, “clubwiches” and lots more. Luckily, there was plenty of “attitude” to keep us entertained along the way.

Munroe is especially proud of his unrivalled selection of 10 different burgers—er, I mean “Crazy Mental Psychotic Insane Mad Chef Burgers”—which include chicken, duck, lamb, seafood and two vegetarian varieties. Then there are the seven ciabatta-bread pizzas, including the “Hawaiian Hammer,” the “Double Ducker” and the “Chicken Chicka Wow Wow.”

My wife, who’s a celiac, found several gluten-free options and eventually chose two appetizers, the spicy and flavourful Tongue Tantalizing Tiny Tuna Tacos and the Stuffed Alligator Pears (an avocado stuffed with fire roasted red onions, smoked corn, fresh cilantro and three cheeses).

As it turns out, the Mad Chef Café is quite accommodating of guests with dietary considerations, such as celiacs and—despite all the “Animals Taste Good” rhetoric—vegetarians. In fact, since our visit the Mad Chef Café has created a special celiac menu, highlighting items that are gluten-free or can be easily altered to be so.
The restaurant is also becoming a quick hit with kids, who receive a paper Mad Chef’s hat that they can color and wear, as well as a dish of homemade cotton candy with every meal.

As a young boy studiously colored his chef’s hat at the next table over I finally decided to try the Mad Chef Burger. My decision was made partly because of the way the menu dared me to try it (“Are you MAD enough?”) and partly because whenever Munroe talked about his signature burger he’d be overcome by the sort of giddy excitement normally reserved for high school boys who inadvertently discover a Victoria’s Secret catalog in their mailbox.
Once I tried it, I could see why he was so excited.

Several years ago I set out on an informal quest for the best burger in the Comox Valley. If the Mad Chef Burger had been around back then, it would have won hands down. The garlic and green peppercorn all-beef patty would have won the contest on its own. The piles of shaved ham and the ice cream scoop of Munroe’s homemade “kick-ass beer cheese” that slowly oozed across the patty put it over the top.

As we dined, our waitress sauntered past with a massive chocolate brownie laden with sautéed Kahlua bananas, fresh mango and ice cream. It was the Mad Chef’s most popular dessert, the Chocolate F Bomb, and it was unfortunately destined for another table. Even more unfortunate was the fact that, once I’d worked my way through my burger and a side of brick-seared yams, there was no way I could even think about dessert.

The Mad Chef Burger is certainly the best I’ve ever eaten in the Comox Valley, and it rivals the best I’ve had anywhere in the world. But Munroe and Bouchard are getting used to this sort of praise. A local food critic recently recognized the Mad Chef Café as home to the best salmon burger he’d ever eaten, and three separate Facebook fans have voted its caesar salad the best in the Valley.

Nonetheless, the Mad Chef shows no signs of complacency. Every day Munroe comes up with new features for his fresh sheet, and he’s continually experimenting with exotic new creations, much to the satisfaction of his partner.

“The other day Kevin was experimenting with a “cheeseburgerrito,” says Bouchard. “It was a cheeseburger, bun and everything, wrapped in a tortilla and baked. It was so good! Another time he made these taco shells out of asiago cheese and made beef tenderloin tacos. I could have eaten those all night!”

The Mad Chef Café is expected to celebrate its official Grand Opening sometime in February. In the meantime, it’s open for lunch and dinner Monday through Saturday at 492 Fitzgerald Avenue in Downtown Courtenay.

To browse the Mad Chef Café’s menu online, and for other information, visit www.MadChefCafe.net or become a fan on Facebook.
When Kevin Munroe and partner Shelley Bouchard opened the Mad Chef Café in Downtown Courtenay last November, cialis 40mg
their mission was nothing less than to shake up the Comox Valley dining scene. Barely two months after opening their doors, they’re already off to a good start.

The Mad Chef Café has quickly become popular with those looking for a casual dining experience with a bit of an edge, or at least one that’s different from what’s currently available. Its menu features such original creations as “The Boom! Boom! Steak and Prawn Stack,” a hearty soup known as “Sweet Curry Meets Fruit Fury” and, for those who don’t mind a little spice, “Rectum Sensation” chicken wings.

Even more controversial is the name of Munroe’s most popular sandwich: “Animals Taste Good.” But while the name may be as offensive to the militant vegan set as a leather-clad Republican cowboy on a dude ranch, Munroe insists that he’s not out to offend.

“It doesn’t matter what it says on the menu, as long as it tastes amazing,” says Munroe. And besides, when grilled chicken, crispy bacon and piles of shaved ham are topped with pepper smoked Brie and “crazy” mayo, animals really do taste pretty good.

“It’s insane food with attitude,” declares Munroe, a red seal chef who’s worked the kitchens of Valley hot spots like Atlas Café, the Kingfisher Resort and the Pier Bistro. “It’s not your ordinary menu. It’s not Italian, it’s not Mexican; it’s just awesome food with no pretension.”

Almost as popular as the food itself, says Munroe, has been what he calls the “attitude.” Each item description on the menu is followed by a clever quip, like “Welcome to the jungle,” “Who’s your Mad Daddy?!” or, in the case of Animals Taste Good, “Snort, growl, bark, moan or just do whatever it takes to get this one down!”

“Everybody’s been loving the attitude,” says Munroe. “With so much negative going on in the world today, this is a place where even the menu can make you laugh. No one laughs as much as they should.” That, perhaps more than anything else, is what the Mad Chef Café is really all about.

“We believe in fun dining,” says Bouchard. “There’s nothing worse than going out to a restaurant where you just don’t feel comfortable; where you have to watch how you sit and which fork you use. This isn’t that kind of place. It’s a place where you can relax, be yourself and just enjoy great food with great friends.
And the Comox Valley certainly has been enjoying it. In its first month of business, Bouchard says the Mad Chef Café was consistently feeding more than 100 hungry customers a day. In a cozy space that only seats 26, tables were being “flipped,” or re-sat, as many as five times during a single lunch service.
“Business has been phenomenal,” says Munroe. “So far we’ve done much better than we expected we would do.

“A lot of people have been coming in from out of town,” he continues. “We’ve had so many questions about whether we’re a chain, and everybody wants to know if we’re in their city. Even the Mad Chef Wear has been taking off!”

Munroe’s Mad Chef Wear clothing collection, available exclusively at the Mad Chef Café, includes toques, hats, onesies (in “Chick Pea” and “Bean Sprout” varieties) and t-shirts featuring memorable captions like “Tofu Ninjas Kick Ass” (the graphic depicts three SpongeBob-esque tofu nuggets kicking, punching and hurling carrot nunchuks at a defenseless donkey).

“We had 20 Animals Taste Good t-shirts made and only three of them were left after Christmas,” says Bouchard. “We’ve had a lot of people buying them for their vegan friends or vegetarian friends.”

So what’s the secret to the Mad Chef Café’s early success? Part of it surely has to do with its feisty and slightly irreverent brand, and opening up just in time for the Christmas rush likely didn’t hurt either. But what some may be inclined to chalk up as fortunate timing is at least partly due to the buzz generated by an incredibly effective publicity campaign before the restaurant even opened.

For starters, Munroe and Bouchard had been driving around the Comox Valley for months in trucks emblazoned with “Mad Chef Café” in a vibrant green font, with “Coming soon” printed just below.

“I’d have people stopping me at red lights and yelling at me, asking when we were going to open,” recalls Munroe. “People were so excited by the name; they were like, ‘What is that?’”

Young and web savvy entrepreneurs as they are, Munroe and Bouchard were also quick to take their budding venture online with a Facebook fan page. On the world’s largest social media site, the duo posted updates, photos and teasers as their building was being renovated, attracting more than 400 followers before they even opened. (Munroe and Bouchard just awarded a free cheesecake to their 500th fan last month.)

Now that they’re open, Munroe and Bouchard continue to use Facebook to share photos, stories and, perhaps most notably, their daily specials.

“We’ve been getting lots of orders for our free downtown delivery, and a lot of it is because of Facebook,” says Bouchard. “There are so many people working downtown who call or come in for our specials. We don’t even have to tell them what the special is, they already know.”

The budding realm of social media marketing is one thing, but isn’t this the ultra competitive restaurant business, where the cardinal marketing rule of “Location Location Location” rings truer than ever? Maybe so. Either way, the owners of the Mad Chef Café, which sits on Fitzgerald Avenue just an aggressively flipped burger away from Fifth Street, feel they’ve got that one covered too.

“If I were to open up anywhere in town it would be this location,” says Munroe. “It’s the perfect size, and we’re visible from one of Downtown Courtenay’s busiest intersections.” The restaurant occupies the former site of Orbitz Pizza, which closed down after a fire ripped through the building and forced several businesses to relocate due to smoke damage.

“I think that more than anything this corner needed to be reactivated,” says Bouchard. “A lot of the businesses that we’ve talked to on the block said that this part of Fifth Street has been dead since the fire. There was no foot traffic; you’d never see anyone on the block.”

While the growing popularity of the Mad Chef Café is certainly starting to change that, Munroe and Bouchard hope to do even more to breathe new life into the block.

Once the weather allows, the Mad Chef Café will feature a long, 18-seat patio along Fitzgerald Avenue that Munroe and Bouchard hope will become a popular summertime hangout for local urbanites. And with the Broken Spoke Coffee House, located just around the corner, planning to open its own patio in the spring, the Mad Chef Café could become the hub of a hip new urban strip.

With all the buzz and anticipation surrounding the opening of the Mad Chef Cafe, I was excited to finally try it out for myself.

As soon as I stepped through the door for my first Mad Chef experience, I knew that this would be a fun place. The vibrantly painted walls, in funky green, orange and grey hues, reverberated with the hum of the lunchtime crowd. My wife and I were fortunate to snatch the last remaining table, and so we hungrily grabbed our menus and began perusing.

If I’ve learned anything about Kevin Munroe, it’s that he doesn’t do anything half-assed. So instead of a simple one-page offering of standard fare like you might find at another brand new restaurant, we got to leaf through seven pages of soups, salads, “clubwiches” and lots more. Luckily, there was plenty of “attitude” to keep us entertained along the way.

Munroe is especially proud of his unrivalled selection of 10 different burgers—er, I mean “Crazy Mental Psychotic Insane Mad Chef Burgers”—which include chicken, duck, lamb, seafood and two vegetarian varieties. Then there are the seven ciabatta-bread pizzas, including the “Hawaiian Hammer,” the “Double Ducker” and the “Chicken Chicka Wow Wow.”

My wife, who’s a celiac, found several gluten-free options and eventually chose two appetizers, the spicy and flavourful Tongue Tantalizing Tiny Tuna Tacos and the Stuffed Alligator Pears (an avocado stuffed with fire roasted red onions, smoked corn, fresh cilantro and three cheeses).

As it turns out, the Mad Chef Café is quite accommodating of guests with dietary considerations, such as celiacs and—despite all the “Animals Taste Good” rhetoric—vegetarians. In fact, since our visit the Mad Chef Café has created a special celiac menu, highlighting items that are gluten-free or can be easily altered to be so.
The restaurant is also becoming a quick hit with kids, who receive a paper Mad Chef’s hat that they can color and wear, as well as a dish of homemade cotton candy with every meal.

As a young boy studiously colored his chef’s hat at the next table over I finally decided to try the Mad Chef Burger. My decision was made partly because of the way the menu dared me to try it (“Are you MAD enough?”) and partly because whenever Munroe talked about his signature burger he’d be overcome by the sort of giddy excitement normally reserved for high school boys who inadvertently discover a Victoria’s Secret catalog in their mailbox.
Once I tried it, I could see why he was so excited.

Several years ago I set out on an informal quest for the best burger in the Comox Valley. If the Mad Chef Burger had been around back then, it would have won hands down. The garlic and green peppercorn all-beef patty would have won the contest on its own. The piles of shaved ham and the ice cream scoop of Munroe’s homemade “kick-ass beer cheese” that slowly oozed across the patty put it over the top.

As we dined, our waitress sauntered past with a massive chocolate brownie laden with sautéed Kahlua bananas, fresh mango and ice cream. It was the Mad Chef’s most popular dessert, the Chocolate F Bomb, and it was unfortunately destined for another table. Even more unfortunate was the fact that, once I’d worked my way through my burger and a side of brick-seared yams, there was no way I could even think about dessert.

The Mad Chef Burger is certainly the best I’ve ever eaten in the Comox Valley, and it rivals the best I’ve had anywhere in the world. But Munroe and Bouchard are getting used to this sort of praise. A local food critic recently recognized the Mad Chef Café as home to the best salmon burger he’d ever eaten, and three separate Facebook fans have voted its caesar salad the best in the Valley.

Nonetheless, the Mad Chef shows no signs of complacency. Every day Munroe comes up with new features for his fresh sheet, and he’s continually experimenting with exotic new creations, much to the satisfaction of his partner.

“The other day Kevin was experimenting with a “cheeseburgerrito,” says Bouchard. “It was a cheeseburger, bun and everything, wrapped in a tortilla and baked. It was so good! Another time he made these taco shells out of asiago cheese and made beef tenderloin tacos. I could have eaten those all night!”

The Mad Chef Café is expected to celebrate its official Grand Opening sometime in February. In the meantime, it’s open for lunch and dinner Monday through Saturday at 492 Fitzgerald Avenue in Downtown Courtenay.

To browse the Mad Chef Café’s menu online, and for other information, visit www.MadChefCafe.net or become a fan on Facebook.
“It’s insane food with attitude, viagra sale ” says chef Kevin Munroe, who runs the Mad Chef Café with Shelley Bouchard. “It’s not your ordinary menu.”
When Kevin Munroe and partner Shelley Bouchard opened the Mad Chef Café in Downtown Courtenay last November, visit this
their mission was nothing less than to shake up the Comox Valley dining scene. Barely two months after opening their doors, they’re already off to a good start.

The Mad Chef Café has quickly become popular with those looking for a casual dining experience with a bit of an edge, or at least one that’s different from what’s currently available. Its menu features such original creations as “The Boom! Boom! Steak and Prawn Stack,” a hearty soup known as “Sweet Curry Meets Fruit Fury” and, for those who don’t mind a little spice, “Rectum Sensation” chicken wings.

Even more controversial is the name of Munroe’s most popular sandwich: “Animals Taste Good.” But while the name may be as offensive to the militant vegan set as a leather-clad Republican cowboy on a dude ranch, Munroe insists that he’s not out to offend.

“It doesn’t matter what it says on the menu, as long as it tastes amazing,” says Munroe. And besides, when grilled chicken, crispy bacon and piles of shaved ham are topped with pepper smoked Brie and “crazy” mayo, animals really do taste pretty good.

“It’s insane food with attitude,” declares Munroe, a red seal chef who’s worked the kitchens of Valley hot spots like Atlas Café, the Kingfisher Resort and the Pier Bistro. “It’s not your ordinary menu. It’s not Italian, it’s not Mexican; it’s just awesome food with no pretension.”

Almost as popular as the food itself, says Munroe, has been what he calls the “attitude.” Each item description on the menu is followed by a clever quip, like “Welcome to the jungle,” “Who’s your Mad Daddy?!” or, in the case of Animals Taste Good, “Snort, growl, bark, moan or just do whatever it takes to get this one down!”

“Everybody’s been loving the attitude,” says Munroe. “With so much negative going on in the world today, this is a place where even the menu can make you laugh. No one laughs as much as they should.” That, perhaps more than anything else, is what the Mad Chef Café is really all about.

“We believe in fun dining,” says Bouchard. “There’s nothing worse than going out to a restaurant where you just don’t feel comfortable; where you have to watch how you sit and which fork you use. This isn’t that kind of place. It’s a place where you can relax, be yourself and just enjoy great food with great friends.
And the Comox Valley certainly has been enjoying it. In its first month of business, Bouchard says the Mad Chef Café was consistently feeding more than 100 hungry customers a day. In a cozy space that only seats 26, tables were being “flipped,” or re-sat, as many as five times during a single lunch service.
“Business has been phenomenal,” says Munroe. “So far we’ve done much better than we expected we would do.

“A lot of people have been coming in from out of town,” he continues. “We’ve had so many questions about whether we’re a chain, and everybody wants to know if we’re in their city. Even the Mad Chef Wear has been taking off!”

Munroe’s Mad Chef Wear clothing collection, available exclusively at the Mad Chef Café, includes toques, hats, onesies (in “Chick Pea” and “Bean Sprout” varieties) and t-shirts featuring memorable captions like “Tofu Ninjas Kick Ass” (the graphic depicts three SpongeBob-esque tofu nuggets kicking, punching and hurling carrot nunchuks at a defenseless donkey).

“We had 20 Animals Taste Good t-shirts made and only three of them were left after Christmas,” says Bouchard. “We’ve had a lot of people buying them for their vegan friends or vegetarian friends.”

So what’s the secret to the Mad Chef Café’s early success? Part of it surely has to do with its feisty and slightly irreverent brand, and opening up just in time for the Christmas rush likely didn’t hurt either. But what some may be inclined to chalk up as fortunate timing is at least partly due to the buzz generated by an incredibly effective publicity campaign before the restaurant even opened.

For starters, Munroe and Bouchard had been driving around the Comox Valley for months in trucks emblazoned with “Mad Chef Café” in a vibrant green font, with “Coming soon” printed just below.

“I’d have people stopping me at red lights and yelling at me, asking when we were going to open,” recalls Munroe. “People were so excited by the name; they were like, ‘What is that?’”

Young and web savvy entrepreneurs as they are, Munroe and Bouchard were also quick to take their budding venture online with a Facebook fan page. On the world’s largest social media site, the duo posted updates, photos and teasers as their building was being renovated, attracting more than 400 followers before they even opened. (Munroe and Bouchard just awarded a free cheesecake to their 500th fan last month.)

Now that they’re open, Munroe and Bouchard continue to use Facebook to share photos, stories and, perhaps most notably, their daily specials.

“We’ve been getting lots of orders for our free downtown delivery, and a lot of it is because of Facebook,” says Bouchard. “There are so many people working downtown who call or come in for our specials. We don’t even have to tell them what the special is, they already know.”

The budding realm of social media marketing is one thing, but isn’t this the ultra competitive restaurant business, where the cardinal marketing rule of “Location Location Location” rings truer than ever? Maybe so. Either way, the owners of the Mad Chef Café, which sits on Fitzgerald Avenue just an aggressively flipped burger away from Fifth Street, feel they’ve got that one covered too.

“If I were to open up anywhere in town it would be this location,” says Munroe. “It’s the perfect size, and we’re visible from one of Downtown Courtenay’s busiest intersections.” The restaurant occupies the former site of Orbitz Pizza, which closed down after a fire ripped through the building and forced several businesses to relocate due to smoke damage.

“I think that more than anything this corner needed to be reactivated,” says Bouchard. “A lot of the businesses that we’ve talked to on the block said that this part of Fifth Street has been dead since the fire. There was no foot traffic; you’d never see anyone on the block.”

While the growing popularity of the Mad Chef Café is certainly starting to change that, Munroe and Bouchard hope to do even more to breathe new life into the block.

Once the weather allows, the Mad Chef Café will feature a long, 18-seat patio along Fitzgerald Avenue that Munroe and Bouchard hope will become a popular summertime hangout for local urbanites. And with the Broken Spoke Coffee House, located just around the corner, planning to open its own patio in the spring, the Mad Chef Café could become the hub of a hip new urban strip.

With all the buzz and anticipation surrounding the opening of the Mad Chef Cafe, I was excited to finally try it out for myself.

As soon as I stepped through the door for my first Mad Chef experience, I knew that this would be a fun place. The vibrantly painted walls, in funky green, orange and grey hues, reverberated with the hum of the lunchtime crowd. My wife and I were fortunate to snatch the last remaining table, and so we hungrily grabbed our menus and began perusing.

If I’ve learned anything about Kevin Munroe, it’s that he doesn’t do anything half-assed. So instead of a simple one-page offering of standard fare like you might find at another brand new restaurant, we got to leaf through seven pages of soups, salads, “clubwiches” and lots more. Luckily, there was plenty of “attitude” to keep us entertained along the way.

Munroe is especially proud of his unrivalled selection of 10 different burgers—er, I mean “Crazy Mental Psychotic Insane Mad Chef Burgers”—which include chicken, duck, lamb, seafood and two vegetarian varieties. Then there are the seven ciabatta-bread pizzas, including the “Hawaiian Hammer,” the “Double Ducker” and the “Chicken Chicka Wow Wow.”

My wife, who’s a celiac, found several gluten-free options and eventually chose two appetizers, the spicy and flavourful Tongue Tantalizing Tiny Tuna Tacos and the Stuffed Alligator Pears (an avocado stuffed with fire roasted red onions, smoked corn, fresh cilantro and three cheeses).

As it turns out, the Mad Chef Café is quite accommodating of guests with dietary considerations, such as celiacs and—despite all the “Animals Taste Good” rhetoric—vegetarians. In fact, since our visit the Mad Chef Café has created a special celiac menu, highlighting items that are gluten-free or can be easily altered to be so.
The restaurant is also becoming a quick hit with kids, who receive a paper Mad Chef’s hat that they can color and wear, as well as a dish of homemade cotton candy with every meal.

As a young boy studiously colored his chef’s hat at the next table over I finally decided to try the Mad Chef Burger. My decision was made partly because of the way the menu dared me to try it (“Are you MAD enough?”) and partly because whenever Munroe talked about his signature burger he’d be overcome by the sort of giddy excitement normally reserved for high school boys who inadvertently discover a Victoria’s Secret catalog in their mailbox.
Once I tried it, I could see why he was so excited.

Several years ago I set out on an informal quest for the best burger in the Comox Valley. If the Mad Chef Burger had been around back then, it would have won hands down. The garlic and green peppercorn all-beef patty would have won the contest on its own. The piles of shaved ham and the ice cream scoop of Munroe’s homemade “kick-ass beer cheese” that slowly oozed across the patty put it over the top.

As we dined, our waitress sauntered past with a massive chocolate brownie laden with sautéed Kahlua bananas, fresh mango and ice cream. It was the Mad Chef’s most popular dessert, the Chocolate F Bomb, and it was unfortunately destined for another table. Even more unfortunate was the fact that, once I’d worked my way through my burger and a side of brick-seared yams, there was no way I could even think about dessert.

The Mad Chef Burger is certainly the best I’ve ever eaten in the Comox Valley, and it rivals the best I’ve had anywhere in the world. But Munroe and Bouchard are getting used to this sort of praise. A local food critic recently recognized the Mad Chef Café as home to the best salmon burger he’d ever eaten, and three separate Facebook fans have voted its caesar salad the best in the Valley.

Nonetheless, the Mad Chef shows no signs of complacency. Every day Munroe comes up with new features for his fresh sheet, and he’s continually experimenting with exotic new creations, much to the satisfaction of his partner.

“The other day Kevin was experimenting with a “cheeseburgerrito,” says Bouchard. “It was a cheeseburger, bun and everything, wrapped in a tortilla and baked. It was so good! Another time he made these taco shells out of asiago cheese and made beef tenderloin tacos. I could have eaten those all night!”

The Mad Chef Café is expected to celebrate its official Grand Opening sometime in February. In the meantime, it’s open for lunch and dinner Monday through Saturday at 492 Fitzgerald Avenue in Downtown Courtenay.

To browse the Mad Chef Café’s menu online, and for other information, visit www.MadChefCafe.net or become a fan on Facebook.

I don’t need to speak dog to know that the Siberians are eager to go. While musher Daryle Mills is setting up the sled and lines, Myocarditis
the dogs jump, apoplexy
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howl, whine and bark, their eyes on Mills, their bushy Husky tails curled high. If they weren’t securely attached to a strong chain, which is anchored to Mills’ parked truck, they’d be leaping toward us—60-odd pounds each of solid muscle and single-minded focus, driven by what seems to be a deeply-embedded instinct: the urge to pull a sled over a snowy track.

The sled ready, Mills raises his voice to be heard over the tumult and gives me a quick lesson on how to harness a sled dog. There’s going to be a tricky moment where I’ll have to unclip the dog from its chain to get the harness down to its shoulders, and then clip it up again. During this moment I’ll have to hold the dog tight. “The number one rule is never let go of your dogs!” he emphasizes.

Mills of course makes it look easy, but at 5’3” I’m pretty sure I’m at least a foot shorter than him, and he confirms that I’m less than half his weight. I get the feeling that with one excited lunge the dog could pull me right over. Holding the harness open, just as Mills demonstrated, I move toward Bear, a black-and-white beauty with clear blue eyes, who jumps and barks with excitement. I grab tight to his collar, talking soothingly to him. Mills is right beside me ready to help out if needed, and in a few seconds I’ve got the harness on. Success! I help harness up a few of the others.

My next job, explains Mills, is to hold the two lead dogs once he clips them to the sled lines, giving him time to get the other dogs in place without the whole thing descending into a chaos of tangled lines and adrenaline-fuelled dogs. After that, he says, things are likely to move quickly. “The dogs are going to want to go,” he says. “When you hear me yell, ‘Get in the sled,’ you jump in that sled fast.”

Spirit and Dreamer, today’s lead dogs, are cooperative. I hold tight to their lines while Mills attaches the others in formation behind them. And then, it’s like he said—I hear his shout and I jump in the sled as it starts to move up the trail. Mills springs onto the runners behind me and we’re off.

Snow, speed, wind, the dogs’ strong haunches pulling mightily in front of me, the sled flying through the air and bouncing down as we go over bumps—I’m dog sledding!

This is what Daryle Mills does: he takes people dog sledding. The owner-operator of Vancouver Island Dog Sledding and the Ateemak Siberian Dog Sled Skool, Mills shares his 90-acre Dove Creek property with 20 Siberian Huskies. He feeds them, trains them, breeds them when the time seems right, and, throughout the winter, he takes them sledding on trails at the foot of Mount Washington.

Clients from all over the world hire Mills and his dogs to give them a taste of what Jack London, author of the famous sled-dog story Call of the Wild, called “the pride of trace and trail”—the magic of dog sledding.

And while dog sledding is a wonderful addition to the variety of winter adventure recreation available on Vancouver Island (as far as Mills knows, he is the only commercial musher on the Island), it is also, for Mills and his dogs, so much more than that.

Mills, a Native of Cree and Dene descent, says dog sledding is, above all, a way to honor and preserve a First Nations tradition that goes back thousands of years. “It’s about keeping the culture alive and sharing it with others,” he says.

This sharing can be surprisingly powerful, says Mills. In fact, his main focus for the past three years has been on harnessing (no pun intended) the healing potential of dog sledding for First Nations youth.

In 2007, aided by a grant from the Victoria Foundation, Mills embarked on a pilot project teaching First Nations youth affected by Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) to work with the sled dogs. Administered by the Wachiay Friendship Centre in Courtenay, the program has seen approximately 100 youth go through so far.
Mills sees these young people make huge strides. “I’m so proud of all of them,” he says.

On a practical level, they learn skills such as basic carpentry (there are dog houses to be built, kennels to fix, and more), work with sledding equipment, and typical farm chores associated with keeping animals.

Taking care of the dogs teaches the kids empathy and responsibility. Working as part of a team helps them learn communication skills. Sledding gives them a much-needed experience of adventure and challenge. And above all, they gain self confidence and a sense of cultural connection.

Ten of the participants have continued to work with Mills and are now competent mushers. He hires them regularly as assistants for his recreation clients and also gives them the opportunity to compete in sled races.

As far as Mills is aware, this program is the only one of its kind in the world. However, the healing potential of dogs is nothing new. Dog visits in hospital and long-term care facilities have been proven to increase the well-being and medical outcomes of the patients. Dogs provide incredibly skilled and caring services for blind and physically handicapped people; they soothe and focus kids with learning disorders, and are even used in literacy programs. As well, numerous scientific studies now verify what most ‘dog people’ have always intuited—just having a pet dog has positive benefits on health and longevity.

Mills doesn’t need any scientific studies to confirm what he witnesses and feels every day.

“There’s something about humans and dogs,” he says. “I sometimes think it’s in our DNA.”

It’s in his DNA, for sure. Mills is originally from Fort Chipewyan in Northern Alberta, where his Cree and Dene ancestors lived in symbiosis with their dogs until relatively recently, when snowmobiles took over.

“I grew up around dogs. My grandfather had dogs. My uncles had dogs,” he says. “My people have been a dog culture for thousands of years. It was part of our whole lifestyle and part of our culture. Dogs were our protection, dogs hunted with us, dogs carried our burdens. Just like it is with the horse cultures, we have our stories and songs about them.

“Dogs have a big spiritual significance to us. This is part of what I teach the kids. One of the first things we do in the program is to sit in the sweat lodge while I tell them some of the old stories.”

One of his favorite stories comes from the Anishnabi people and it recounts how dogs came to be human companions. Mills shares a shortened version with me:
Long ago, human beings lived as one among many beings on the planet. But the time came when human beings began to violate the sacred laws, says Mills, his voice slowing and deepening as he steps into the storyteller role.

The human beings became careless with how they used the plants of the earth and how they hunted prey. They became greedy and impatient. The other animals of the earth grew angry, and decided to wipe out the human beings entirely. But the dogs took pity on the humans and wanted to protect us. They befriended us and helped us survive. For this, they were banished from the wild kingdom and given the task of carrying our burdens. To this day they protect us from the wrath of the wild kingdom. They bark when a bear comes close, and they bark when a cougar comes close, always warning us of potential danger. They have become part of human culture, human communities and human families.

Mills has found dog stories from sledding cultures all over the world. For instance, the Chukchi of Northern Siberia say that dogs know the spirit world. “They guard the gates of heaven, so when you die, you go to the gates of heaven on your sled. The dogs determine if you will pass through or not, depending on how well you treated your dogs while you were alive,” he says, a twinkle in his eye.

Mills didn’t set out to be a musher. He says it was a dog, Kavik, who made that decision for him.

Eighteen years ago, Mills had a career in security and body-guarding—a seemingly natural fit given his large frame and calm demeanor. He was helping a friend in a dangerous situation keep safe, and at the same time was called away for a security job. He didn’t want to leave his friend unprotected. He remembered the old story about how dogs are charged with protecting us, and wondered if that could be the answer.

The next day he opened the newspaper and saw an SPCA ad with a picture of a Siberian Husky/wolf cross named Kavik. Following his instincts, he adopted the dog and took him to his friend, where he seemed to know naturally what his job was.

Later Kavik came to live with Mills. His second dog, Misha, appeared out of the bush a few months later. Mills saw her sniffing around his truck one day near Merville. He put her in the truck with Kavik and the two of them immediately got along. Mills tracked down her owner who, it turned out, was looking for a new home for her. And so Misha too went to live with Mills. After that, more dogs found their way into his life, each with their own story.

With the dogs came an interest in sledding, Mills says. At that point in his life, he’d already begun a journey of rediscovering his roots, searching out Native wisdom and learning Native traditions such as drumming and storytelling, so it was a natural step to seek out elders who could share some of the old knowledge.
“For the most part,” he says, “I’m a self-trained musher. I read every mushing magazine I could find, I talked to the elders, I tried and failed and tried again, learning by experience.”

Sledding remained a hobby as Mills gradually shifted away from security and became a youth worker. Like everything in his life, this was a natural progression as he followed his heart.

“Because I’d been learning about native traditions, people started asking me to come be a resource, to talk to kids about native culture, things like sweat lodges and drum-making, so I started volunteering a lot. Eventually I went to college to get the certificate and I turned my hobby into my work,” he says.

He spent a few years working with young offenders and providing cultural programs for youth; in the meantime, he had about eight dogs and was mushing in his spare time. Once again merging his hobby with his work, he came up with the idea of a dog sled program for youth at risk. The idea garnered three-year funding as a pilot project, and thus was born the Ateemak Siberian Sled Dog School.

Last year, he expanded his operation to offer recreation and adventure rides to locals and tourists under the name Vancouver Island Sled Dogs.

The recreation rides can vary from a short “express” ride to get a taste of the trail, to a full three-hour workshop where participants learn the basics and get a chance to try mushing.

He has plans and dreams for both endeavours. His idea for the recreation sledding is to acquire property on the mountain. He envisions a cozy log cabin with the kennels around it, and perhaps some simple cabins for guests to stay in while participating in dog sledding programs. This setup would allow him to offer residential workshops with sledding and First Nations cultural programs, and to live with his dogs right next to the snowy trails they love.

In the more foreseeable future, he wants to offer day-long dog sledding trips into the back country. “There’s something indescribable that happens when you’re out there for four, five hours, just you and the dogs and the snow and the forest. It affects you really deeply,” he says.

Mills’ vision for the youth program is to share it with other communities. “I’d like to see us get more funding to go on the road and take it to different Native communities, like some of the reserves up North, and help them set up a program like this. It wouldn’t be hard to replicate and it would work so well in those places,” he says.
These sound like ambitious goals, but Mills doesn’t worry too much about them.
“I feel like I’m being guided in all this. Things just seem to come to me when the time is right. The way my dogs have come to me,” he says. “Really, it’s all about the dogs. People think I train them, I teach them, I lead them. Actually, they lead me.”
Out on the trail, watching Spirit, Dreamer, Joe, Bear, Dakota and Angel leap ahead, pulling me swiftly along the snow, I have a similar feeling—it’s all about the dogs.
There is Mills standing behind me, a powerful presence to be sure, an experienced musher, calm and in control. And there is myself, full of enthusiasm, fuelled by childhood readings of Call of the Wild, giving myself over to a wonderful new experience. But it is the dogs that give this experience its color; it is the dogs I will dream about; it is the dogs that raise this fun recreational activity to an archetypal level, connecting me to something ancient and simple and beautiful.

Toward the end of the ride Mills gives me a chance to mush. I stand on the runners; controlling the sled with the brake and dogs with my voice. At first he sits on the sled, his weight and his presence an assurance that things won’t feel too out of control. Then he has me stop the dogs and wait while he walks up ahead, leaving me to experience mushing on my own.

The dogs want to follow him. I see Angel’s feet dig into the snow; her hindquarters surge; she’s ready to run. I stand down hard on the brake, talking to them in a deep calm voice, the way I heard Mills do it.

Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I sense that the dogs are listening to me; they seem to calm for the length of a slow exhalation. A couple of bright-eyed faces turn back to look at me.

And just then, something shimmers and shifts in my experience: I’m no longer just a curious onlooker, a cultural tourist having a unique experience. I forget that I’m feeling nervous, I forget that I’m writing an article, I forget that I’ve got dozens of emails waiting for me when I get home. Instead, I feel the strength of my legs standing on the runners; I feel the dogs’ excitement and the effort of their self-control; I feel their good will and their love of the trail.

Mills signals to me. I jump off the brake and onto the runners, shouting to the dogs, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” I feel the Huskies’ power and eagerness come up through the soles of my feet as the sled leaps forward, flying along the snow.

For more information about Vancouver Island Dog Sledding and the Ateemak Siberian Dog Sled Skool, go to www.VancouverIslanddogsledding.com.
Vancouver Island Dog Sledding offers rides varying from a short “express” ride to get a taste of the trail, visit this
to a full three-hour workshop where participants learn the basics and get to try their hand at mushing.

“There’s something about humans and dogs, purchase ” says Daryle Mills, out with his team for a ride near Mount Washington.
“I sometimes think it’s in our DNA.”
I don’t need to speak dog to know that the Siberians are eager to go. While musher Daryle Mills is setting up the sled and lines, rx
the dogs jump, yip, howl, whine and bark, their eyes on Mills, their bushy Husky tails curled high. If they weren’t securely attached to a strong chain, which is anchored to Mills’ parked truck, they’d be leaping toward us—60-odd pounds each of solid muscle and single-minded focus, driven by what seems to be a deeply-embedded instinct: the urge to pull a sled over a snowy track.

The sled ready, Mills raises his voice to be heard over the tumult and gives me a quick lesson on how to harness a sled dog. There’s going to be a tricky moment where I’ll have to unclip the dog from its chain to get the harness down to its shoulders, and then clip it up again. During this moment I’ll have to hold the dog tight. “The number one rule is never let go of your dogs!” he emphasizes.

Mills of course makes it look easy, but at 5’3” I’m pretty sure I’m at least a foot shorter than him, and he confirms that I’m less than half his weight. I get the feeling that with one excited lunge the dog could pull me right over. Holding the harness open, just as Mills demonstrated, I move toward Bear, a black-and-white beauty with clear blue eyes, who jumps and barks with excitement. I grab tight to his collar, talking soothingly to him. Mills is right beside me ready to help out if needed, and in a few seconds I’ve got the harness on. Success! I help harness up a few of the others.

My next job, explains Mills, is to hold the two lead dogs once he clips them to the sled lines, giving him time to get the other dogs in place without the whole thing descending into a chaos of tangled lines and adrenaline-fuelled dogs. After that, he says, things are likely to move quickly. “The dogs are going to want to go,” he says. “When you hear me yell, ‘Get in the sled,’ you jump in that sled fast.”

Spirit and Dreamer, today’s lead dogs, are cooperative. I hold tight to their lines while Mills attaches the others in formation behind them. And then, it’s like he said—I hear his shout and I jump in the sled as it starts to move up the trail. Mills springs onto the runners behind me and we’re off.

Snow, speed, wind, the dogs’ strong haunches pulling mightily in front of me, the sled flying through the air and bouncing down as we go over bumps—I’m dog sledding!

This is what Daryle Mills does: he takes people dog sledding. The owner-operator of Vancouver Island Dog Sledding and the Ateemak Siberian Dog Sled Skool, Mills shares his 90-acre Dove Creek property with 20 Siberian Huskies. He feeds them, trains them, breeds them when the time seems right, and, throughout the winter, he takes them sledding on trails at the foot of Mount Washington.

Clients from all over the world hire Mills and his dogs to give them a taste of what Jack London, author of the famous sled-dog story Call of the Wild, called “the pride of trace and trail”—the magic of dog sledding.

And while dog sledding is a wonderful addition to the variety of winter adventure recreation available on Vancouver Island (as far as Mills knows, he is the only commercial musher on the Island), it is also, for Mills and his dogs, so much more than that.

Mills, a Native of Cree and Dene descent, says dog sledding is, above all, a way to honor and preserve a First Nations tradition that goes back thousands of years. “It’s about keeping the culture alive and sharing it with others,” he says.

This sharing can be surprisingly powerful, says Mills. In fact, his main focus for the past three years has been on harnessing (no pun intended) the healing potential of dog sledding for First Nations youth.

In 2007, aided by a grant from the Victoria Foundation, Mills embarked on a pilot project teaching First Nations youth affected by Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder (FASD) to work with the sled dogs. Administered by the Wachiay Friendship Centre in Courtenay, the program has seen approximately 100 youth go through so far.
Mills sees these young people make huge strides. “I’m so proud of all of them,” he says.

On a practical level, they learn skills such as basic carpentry (there are dog houses to be built, kennels to fix, and more), work with sledding equipment, and typical farm chores associated with keeping animals.

Taking care of the dogs teaches the kids empathy and responsibility. Working as part of a team helps them learn communication skills. Sledding gives them a much-needed experience of adventure and challenge. And above all, they gain self confidence and a sense of cultural connection.

Ten of the participants have continued to work with Mills and are now competent mushers. He hires them regularly as assistants for his recreation clients and also gives them the opportunity to compete in sled races.

As far as Mills is aware, this program is the only one of its kind in the world. However, the healing potential of dogs is nothing new. Dog visits in hospital and long-term care facilities have been proven to increase the well-being and medical outcomes of the patients. Dogs provide incredibly skilled and caring services for blind and physically handicapped people; they soothe and focus kids with learning disorders, and are even used in literacy programs. As well, numerous scientific studies now verify what most ‘dog people’ have always intuited—just having a pet dog has positive benefits on health and longevity.

Mills doesn’t need any scientific studies to confirm what he witnesses and feels every day.

“There’s something about humans and dogs,” he says. “I sometimes think it’s in our DNA.”

It’s in his DNA, for sure. Mills is originally from Fort Chipewyan in Northern Alberta, where his Cree and Dene ancestors lived in symbiosis with their dogs until relatively recently, when snowmobiles took over.

“I grew up around dogs. My grandfather had dogs. My uncles had dogs,” he says. “My people have been a dog culture for thousands of years. It was part of our whole lifestyle and part of our culture. Dogs were our protection, dogs hunted with us, dogs carried our burdens. Just like it is with the horse cultures, we have our stories and songs about them.

“Dogs have a big spiritual significance to us. This is part of what I teach the kids. One of the first things we do in the program is to sit in the sweat lodge while I tell them some of the old stories.”

One of his favorite stories comes from the Anishnabi people and it recounts how dogs came to be human companions. Mills shares a shortened version with me:
Long ago, human beings lived as one among many beings on the planet. But the time came when human beings began to violate the sacred laws, says Mills, his voice slowing and deepening as he steps into the storyteller role.

The human beings became careless with how they used the plants of the earth and how they hunted prey. They became greedy and impatient. The other animals of the earth grew angry, and decided to wipe out the human beings entirely. But the dogs took pity on the humans and wanted to protect us. They befriended us and helped us survive. For this, they were banished from the wild kingdom and given the task of carrying our burdens. To this day they protect us from the wrath of the wild kingdom. They bark when a bear comes close, and they bark when a cougar comes close, always warning us of potential danger. They have become part of human culture, human communities and human families.

Mills has found dog stories from sledding cultures all over the world. For instance, the Chukchi of Northern Siberia say that dogs know the spirit world. “They guard the gates of heaven, so when you die, you go to the gates of heaven on your sled. The dogs determine if you will pass through or not, depending on how well you treated your dogs while you were alive,” he says, a twinkle in his eye.

Mills didn’t set out to be a musher. He says it was a dog, Kavik, who made that decision for him.

Eighteen years ago, Mills had a career in security and body-guarding—a seemingly natural fit given his large frame and calm demeanor. He was helping a friend in a dangerous situation keep safe, and at the same time was called away for a security job. He didn’t want to leave his friend unprotected. He remembered the old story about how dogs are charged with protecting us, and wondered if that could be the answer.

The next day he opened the newspaper and saw an SPCA ad with a picture of a Siberian Husky/wolf cross named Kavik. Following his instincts, he adopted the dog and took him to his friend, where he seemed to know naturally what his job was.

Later Kavik came to live with Mills. His second dog, Misha, appeared out of the bush a few months later. Mills saw her sniffing around his truck one day near Merville. He put her in the truck with Kavik and the two of them immediately got along. Mills tracked down her owner who, it turned out, was looking for a new home for her. And so Misha too went to live with Mills. After that, more dogs found their way into his life, each with their own story.

With the dogs came an interest in sledding, Mills says. At that point in his life, he’d already begun a journey of rediscovering his roots, searching out Native wisdom and learning Native traditions such as drumming and storytelling, so it was a natural step to seek out elders who could share some of the old knowledge.
“For the most part,” he says, “I’m a self-trained musher. I read every mushing magazine I could find, I talked to the elders, I tried and failed and tried again, learning by experience.”

Sledding remained a hobby as Mills gradually shifted away from security and became a youth worker. Like everything in his life, this was a natural progression as he followed his heart.

“Because I’d been learning about native traditions, people started asking me to come be a resource, to talk to kids about native culture, things like sweat lodges and drum-making, so I started volunteering a lot. Eventually I went to college to get the certificate and I turned my hobby into my work,” he says.

He spent a few years working with young offenders and providing cultural programs for youth; in the meantime, he had about eight dogs and was mushing in his spare time. Once again merging his hobby with his work, he came up with the idea of a dog sled program for youth at risk. The idea garnered three-year funding as a pilot project, and thus was born the Ateemak Siberian Sled Dog School.

Last year, he expanded his operation to offer recreation and adventure rides to locals and tourists under the name Vancouver Island Sled Dogs.

The recreation rides can vary from a short “express” ride to get a taste of the trail, to a full three-hour workshop where participants learn the basics and get a chance to try mushing.

He has plans and dreams for both endeavours. His idea for the recreation sledding is to acquire property on the mountain. He envisions a cozy log cabin with the kennels around it, and perhaps some simple cabins for guests to stay in while participating in dog sledding programs. This setup would allow him to offer residential workshops with sledding and First Nations cultural programs, and to live with his dogs right next to the snowy trails they love.

In the more foreseeable future, he wants to offer day-long dog sledding trips into the back country. “There’s something indescribable that happens when you’re out there for four, five hours, just you and the dogs and the snow and the forest. It affects you really deeply,” he says.

Mills’ vision for the youth program is to share it with other communities. “I’d like to see us get more funding to go on the road and take it to different Native communities, like some of the reserves up North, and help them set up a program like this. It wouldn’t be hard to replicate and it would work so well in those places,” he says.
These sound like ambitious goals, but Mills doesn’t worry too much about them.
“I feel like I’m being guided in all this. Things just seem to come to me when the time is right. The way my dogs have come to me,” he says. “Really, it’s all about the dogs. People think I train them, I teach them, I lead them. Actually, they lead me.”
Out on the trail, watching Spirit, Dreamer, Joe, Bear, Dakota and Angel leap ahead, pulling me swiftly along the snow, I have a similar feeling—it’s all about the dogs.
There is Mills standing behind me, a powerful presence to be sure, an experienced musher, calm and in control. And there is myself, full of enthusiasm, fuelled by childhood readings of Call of the Wild, giving myself over to a wonderful new experience. But it is the dogs that give this experience its color; it is the dogs I will dream about; it is the dogs that raise this fun recreational activity to an archetypal level, connecting me to something ancient and simple and beautiful.

Toward the end of the ride Mills gives me a chance to mush. I stand on the runners; controlling the sled with the brake and dogs with my voice. At first he sits on the sled, his weight and his presence an assurance that things won’t feel too out of control. Then he has me stop the dogs and wait while he walks up ahead, leaving me to experience mushing on my own.

The dogs want to follow him. I see Angel’s feet dig into the snow; her hindquarters surge; she’s ready to run. I stand down hard on the brake, talking to them in a deep calm voice, the way I heard Mills do it.

Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I sense that the dogs are listening to me; they seem to calm for the length of a slow exhalation. A couple of bright-eyed faces turn back to look at me.

And just then, something shimmers and shifts in my experience: I’m no longer just a curious onlooker, a cultural tourist having a unique experience. I forget that I’m feeling nervous, I forget that I’m writing an article, I forget that I’ve got dozens of emails waiting for me when I get home. Instead, I feel the strength of my legs standing on the runners; I feel the dogs’ excitement and the effort of their self-control; I feel their good will and their love of the trail.

Mills signals to me. I jump off the brake and onto the runners, shouting to the dogs, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” I feel the Huskies’ power and eagerness come up through the soles of my feet as the sled leaps forward, flying along the snow.

For more information about Vancouver Island Dog Sledding and the Ateemak Siberian Dog Sled Skool, go to www.VancouverIslanddogsledding.com.
What is a nice Comox Valley girl like you doing in a place like this? In fact, surgery
what are two nice Comox Valley girls doing in a place like this?

The place in question is—at this point at least—a metaphorical brothel and two locally-connected women ended up having, buy
quite by accident, a connection with that place of business. No—not in a bad way, but in fact in a highly positive way.

One of those women was raised and educated in this community, and the other spent many of her formative professional years honing her craft here.
The first is well-known and equally well-regarded Victoria journalist and community activist, Jody Paterson. The other side of the duo is an astute and talented film director who was once the youngest program manager at Comox Valley Cablenet. She is April Butler-Parry.

Paterson and Butler-Parry are connected via The Brothel Project. This 52-minute film was a feature in the Victoria Film Festival in late January, and is to be shown on Global Television, likely in March. This is where the pairing of Paterson and Butler-Parry takes place, for Paterson is a featured player in the film, which concerns the quest of Paterson and her cohort, Lauren Casey, to establish Canada’s first legal brothel in the sometimes staid BC capital. More about the film and the quest and its reasons later in the story.

Jody Paterson, though born in Saskatchewan, grew up in the Comox Valley and went right through school locally, first at Courtenay elementary, and then Lake Trail. She graduated from GP Vanier in 1974.

“The Comox Valley was a great place to grow up in and I still feel thoroughly connected,” she says. “I even married a Cumberland boy. I still come back because I have kids and grandkids who live here.”

Then, in 1981, she left the community. She had an ambition that she vitally wanted to realize, and that was to be a journalist. She said she’d had a dream of being a journalist when she was a child, and that impulse had never left her.

“It’s quite funny in retrospect, but I was once asked in a questionnaire in high school what my ambition was, and I said I wanted to be a housewife,” she says. And she was that for a few years. She was also a piano teacher for eight years, but the thirst to do more hadn’t left and she knew she had little choice but to act on her childhood dream.

She went to Kamloops to take the journalism program at Cariboo College, and then she stayed on in that interior city for eight more years, plying her newfound trade at the Kamloops Sentinel and Daily News.

Then, wanting a larger paper in a larger community, where she felt her writing would gain more notice, she returned to the coast in 1989 and took a reporting job at the Victoria Times-Colonist. That she did well at that paper would be to state the case mildly. She covered virtually every beat in her early years there and ultimately became managing editor. Starting in 1996 she became a noted columnist, and continues in that realm to this day. But, in 2004 she left her full-time job with the TC and became the executive director of the Prostitute Empowerment Education and Resource Society (PEERS). Therein lies her direct connection to the Brothel Project.

Meanwhile, back in Kamloops there was a young woman who also had journalistic aspirations. That was April Butler-Parry. In one of those little twists of connectedness, or serendipity, if you will, Paterson, near the end of her Kamloops sojourn, was, as an alumna, a guest speaker at Butler-Parry’s journalism class at Cariboo College.

Butler-Parry began a career in community television programming at Kamloops Cablenet. After a brief stay there she moved to the Comox Valley in 1989 where, at age 21, she became the youngest programming manager for Comox Valley Cablenet. She continued with community programming for a number of years in the early 1990s and it was in doing so that she learned many of the skills that were to serve her later in her career, and also enabled her to direct a complex project like the Brothel story.

“I really enjoyed my life in the Valley,” she says, “and Cablenet was a good place to work. I had a home in the Valley and my children were born there. It was good. At the same time I found myself growing increasingly fascinated with the idea of creating documentary films.” More than anything else, Butler-Parry’s experience with Valley Cablenet was a significant learning experience and it granted her skills that still serve her today.

“Cablenet was so volunteer-driven, and that gave me some strong ideas about what people wanted and needed in terms of programming,” she says. “At the same time I pushed volunteers to get involved in directing, and by the time I left we had some excellent volunteer directors. Of course the process sometimes demanded a ton of patience, but it paid off in the end, both for community programming and for my skills as a professional director. For me my job demanded that I be actively involved in the community and it pushed me to up my game. I came to realize in short order that adequate wasn’t good enough.”

It wasn’t all peaches-and-cream in her early days, Butler-Parry confesses. She remembers how late Comox District Free Press columnist and community historian, Isabelle Stubbs wrote a scathing review of her skills behind and in front of the camera shortly after she started in the Valley.

“In those days I wasn’t just behind the camera, but was also in front of it,” she says. “I wasn’t very good in front, let’s say, and that’s what she picked up on. She said I needed to look up more and elocute clearly. It was mainly about my professional poise, which she saw as lacking.”

Not to be deterred by the ‘review’, Butler-Parry took the criticism in the spirit in which it was intended and improved those areas of her bearing.
“I contacted her and we met for coffee,” she says. “She told me I had improved, so that pleased me.”

It was quite by accident that during those years she had the opportunity to create her first documentary. It was a 20-minute documentary that concerned an oil spill that had manifested on the Island’s West Coast, near Ucluelet. She was alerted to the spill by pioneer Valley environmental activist, Ruth Masters. “Doing that resulted in an interesting shift in my thinking,” she says. “I got so much out of it that I realized my goal was to do a real documentary for a larger broadcast TV station. To get what I needed I knew I had to move on. I was reluctant in the sense that I liked my life in the Valley, but I had to go to where there was more opportunity.”

That said, she was to create what she considers her first “real” documentary, and it was one that maintained a Comox Valley theme. That was the Swan Documentary of 1996, which explored the huge proliferation of Trumpeter swans that wintered in the Comox Valley. The documentary ran in conjunction with the then Swan Festival.

The swan documentary was self-financed but she says it was worth the expense because it was a good and “gentle” introduction to the process of making a documentary.

“It was a great learning experience and was very demanding,” she says. “It involved being up at first light when I could access the swans. Now, with the Brothel Project, because it involves sex workers, I have to be available at the other end of the day.”

If the Swan Documentary was the kick-off for Butler-Parry, it has only grown from there. She worked for all the TV networks operating out of Victoria and was also director for VI television news and helped launch that station in 2001. Ultimately she reached the point where she realized she wouldn’t complete her dream unless she left the security-blanket of TV and moved exclusively to directing documentary films. The Brothel Project is the culmination of those efforts to date.

The Force Four production, directed by Butler-Parry and produced by Gillian Hrankowski, is a documentary that vividly captures the quest of Paterson and Casey, and shows dramatically the pitfalls along the way in a thus far vain attempt to change the law of the land regarding love for sale.

“While my connection with The Brothel Project didn’t happen entirely by accident in the sense that Jody let it be known that she and Lauren wanted to make this film, I was just a person who bid on it,” she says. “Fortunately mine was the bid they accepted. Ultimately it proved to be great subject matter, and they were also great people to work with.”

On Paterson’s side of the equation the idea of contracting a documentary seemed like a natural at a certain point in the quest she and Casey had embarked on.
“Lauren and I were considering ways to raise money to help the street sex workers,” Paterson says. “The work we were doing in advocacy was attracting media attention, and that’s a good thing. But the big issue for PEERS is that it’s a non-profit, and like all non-profits, it’s always strapped for cash. Money limitations were keeping us from helping those who desperately needed it.”

Then Casey suggested that she and Paterson should open a brothel, with the irony being that money raised from the escort business could be used to assist those whose lives were pretty wretched. And that was how it all began.

“Lauren said it almost as a joke,” Paterson says, “but there are so many problems for those working in the streets. Most people take jobs out of necessity, and any work can be exploitive, but the streets are more so. It’s a highly dangerous workplace, so I said, ‘What if?’ Maybe we could do that. We could establish a non-profit co-op and have the house fee (the money that goes to the business) funneled back to the outdoor sex workers. We’d be generating revenue and helping the women.”

Two things Paterson and Casey wanted to do were to test the legalities of attempting to establish what would be, by the laws of the land, an illegal business, and secondly to publicize their quest in the hope of getting a sympathetic community ear. So, they decided they must have a documentary to that end.
There were times when Paterson and Casey were caught up in the almost schizoid nature of the project.

“Making the documentary was a pretty rough year for us,” she says. “In a way you feel like you’re actors in somebody else’s story. At the same time, we were suffering no delusions. I had no belief that we’d be able to accomplish anything during that year. I had no thoughts that within a year we’d be able to set up an illegal business.”

So, the question that could be asked of Paterson and Casey would be: Why would you bring in a film crew rather than just going about it quietly.
“It’s designed (The Brothel Project) mainly to promote discussion,” Paterson says. “The Criminal Code has to change to make what we’re trying to do happen. There are bad laws around the sex trade and the current laws harm the people that work in the calling. It’s a thriving industry, yet anytime anyone can be charged, because that’s what’s on the books. So, we wanted to expose some of those legal realities.”

One facet of the year-long process involved those involved with both the project and the film itself, including Paterson, Butler-Parry and Casey going to a country where prostitution has been decriminalized: New Zealand. For the sake of the well-being of those in the trade, this fellow Commonwealth Country decided to move it out of the realm of a criminal activity. The visitors found the results to be commendable for the most part.

“Many things in New Zealand were better for the sex workers,” Paterson says. “For one thing, there was no longer any fear of the police. Under decriminalization, the adult sex trade is considered a workplace and is to be free from harassment. It’s not much of an exaggeration to say New Zealand is a million miles ahead of Canada in its acceptance of a certain reality. Their attitude is that people are buying it, so why are we punishing the people who are selling it?”

In New Zealand there are both brothels and independent escorts. In many cases the women left the brothels and began to work out of their homes, since that was now legal. That was virtually the model Paterson and Casey were seeking in wanting to open their bordello, but that wasn’t etched in stone for them.
“People thought we were trying to promote one particular model, but that wasn’t really the case,” Paterson says. “No blanket statement can be applied to the sex trade.”

In order to understand the business better, about six months into the project Paterson and Casey brought in escort agency booking agent, Harvi, along with escort, Mia. Harvi shared her business acumen—which was astute, Paterson says—and Mia provided the insights stemming from being active in the trade.
Harvi’s perspective was invaluable and she also provided Paterson and Casey with some insights into the reality of the business. She is possessed of an astute business sense, Paterson says, and she was able to indicate the pitfalls they would face. Eventually, however, Harvi would depart from the project when she realized that she was under threat, due to the excessive exposure, of being closed down and losing all she’d gained in her years in the business. She began to question why she was collaborating with the two in their quest.

“I’d love a reason why I need you,” she says of Paterson and Casey in the documentary. She has begun to see it as a case of them needing her more than she needs the Brothel Project team. At the same time, escort Mia begins to question why she needs to be involved in a brothel at all, and tells Harvi she doesn’t want to give a house fee and declares, during a clothes-shopping expedition, that she really likes working as an independent. This leads to Harvi severing the connection between the two.

With support for an indoor brothel seeming to crumble, Paterson also realizes, especially when they were told by both their legal advisor and a spokesman for the Victoria Police Department, that what they were attempting was illegal, and the Criminal Code denies anybody the right to establish what is referred to as “a common bawdy house.”

Escort agencies get around the law quite simply by not suggesting any sexual transaction takes place, and what transpires in an encounter is strictly a contract between the escort and the purchaser of ‘services’, whatever those might be. Escort agencies are governed by local bylaw and they are not established under a roof anywhere.

“I realized that by publicly talking about it we were jeopardizing sex workers and putting escort jobs in jeopardy,” she says. “We were inflaming the issues and that was exactly what we didn’t want. That seems like a pretty lousy win, to me. So, we’ll continue to quietly work with people in the industry, and we’ve come to realize that decriminalization is a bigger conversation. That discussion is just not going anywhere per se. The best bet at some future point would be a constitutional challenge.”

At the same time, Paterson says she wouldn’t have missed spending the time, effort and money to attain what they did—increase public awareness. And on Jan. 31, the showing of The Brothel Project at the Victoria Film Festival gave the ticket-buying public (incidentally, it sold out) a chance to see what it was all about.
“I thought it was a fascinating journey,” Paterson says. “As a journalist I was welcomed into a world that journalists are not normally welcomed into. Now we carry on.”

For Butler-Parry the association with Paterson, Casey, Harvi and Mia has only served to enhance her career as an independent maker of documentaries.
“I hope when people see the documentary they will see it as a group project, and I couldn’t have done it without those individuals being the players,” she says. “They were wonderful.”

In similar context, she is effusive in the praises of producer and scriptwriter Gillian Hrankowski, without whom none of it would have been possible, she says. This was the person, Butler-Parry says, under whose guidance they were able to take 100 hours of footage and reduce it to a powerful 55-minute documentary.
“Gillian was really integral to making a great story,” she says. “And the narration by (actress) Carly Pope couldn’t have been better. We had to have somebody who believed in the project to do the narration, and Carly did.”

The learning experience, she says, was vital to the success of the documentary. There were some basic ground rules to be followed, including making certain they did not show the location of the brothel. In fact, Butler-Parry’s own home does double duty as a stand-in in that regard. Furthermore, she learned as she worked with women in the sex trade that even though they might have had friendly interactions during the filming, it was taboo for her to show any recognition of the escorts if they were to run into each other on the street.

“It was important to the success of the documentary that I didn’t make anybody uncomfortable,” she says. “And it worked out really well. Harvi and Mia were terrific people to work with.”

Meanwhile, she reminds the viewing public that even though they missed the Jan. 31 showing of The Brothel Project, it will be broadcast on Global Television in the spring—likely in March.