A familial atmosphere and solid comfort food have helped make Timbre a popular spot among Commercial Drive locals.

Credit: Andrew Morrison

ON THE PLATE: Timbre captures the Drive’s casual vibe

Timbre has been on my radar since it opened in late 2007, at the corner of Commercial Drive and McSpadden Avenue. I’d been in a few times before, for pre- and post-party beer and snacks at the bar, but that’s hardly a way to say hello. This past Saturday was my first proper use of it as a restaurant, and it happened out of the blue, as I escaped from an angry downpour with my wife and kids in tow.

It’s an attractive corner-lot location. Inside, the open-concept space sports high ceilings and bold, eye-popping works of art rendered on reclaimed doors and canvases, hung on the room’s yellowy-green walls. Timbre is unique in Vancouver in that it has garage doors on two sides, which must make for pretty wicked breezes on hot summer days and nights. In winter, the atmosphere is warmed by all the stained wood incorporated into the design. Three massive, amber-coloured wooden beams cross the ceiling, looming over well-spaced, rustic-plank-topped tables. The top of the eight-seat bar looks like it was made from a single block of wood, and it sits on panelling made from smaller blocks laid vertically. It’s as if a lumberjack wrenched the design portfolio from a symmetry-loving modernist whose job was then to clean up the sawdust.

Behind the bar there are five broad wooden shelves lined with reasonably priced spirits. I spied nearly 40 well-chosen whiskeys, almost a dozen good tequilas, and many other treats besides. The remainder of the drinks list included adequate supplies of red and white wine, Granville Island beers on tap, and several local and imported bottle brews, among them 650-millilitre giants filled with full-bodied Anarchist Amber Ale from the pride of Penticton, the Cannery Brewing Co. I happily quaffed one of those ($9.25).

The only atmospheric low-point — aside from the non-stop Tragically Hip soundtrack — was two flat-screen TVs playing the Leafs-versus-Red Wings game. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind having one eye on the game and the other on my nachos; it’s just that there are few teams Canucks fans hate more than Detroit and Toronto. And though watching the two teams smash each other might sound like fun, I’d sooner be kicked in the face by an angry mule than endure another meal with both teams’ jerseys constantly in my face. If one could manage to look away, the TVs are installed discreetly enough, high up in two corners. When turned off, they’re easily dwarfed by the two artworks between them, which depict small bands of folk trudging over snowy hills in the moonlight.

The service was very up-front and casual, with a seemingly genuine family feel to it. We felt well taken care of from the moment we walked in the door, and were given our pick of the remaining tables. Most of the patrons seemed to know the staff by name, and they worked through the room with the ease and maturity that comes with familiarity and time.

The menu is all about well-prepared nosh of the Canadian kind — hard to fuck up, no surprises, easy to throw back, and button-bustingly delicious. To wit, I entered into a special covenant with a soaking, grossly tangy and extra-dead bison Sloppy Joe ($11), so hastening of drool it almost seemed indecent (think doughy-mushy, warm, and just right — the happiness of Goldilocks). The cedar-plank wild salmon ($18) was another easy dunk, though the cook went a dash too far with the rock salt. Cooked beautifully and licked with rosemary and maple, it reeked of still-smoking cedar (which I love), and came plated with rice, grilled red peppers, and a butter-soaked corn cob liberally dusted with a secret red spice mix (paprika and sumac, maybe).

A toasted multigrain sandwich stacked thickly with melted Brie and smoked chicken was tied together by a tart and sweet spread of apple and cranberry preserve ($11). Yam fries ($8) were hot and fried to the ideal threshold of crispness (bending rather than breaking), but for that price I’d have liked a larger portion, and a better dipper than the undersized ramekin of roasted garlic and Parmesan aioli, of which we made swift work.

I returned with my eldest son the next morning for an early Sunday brunch. There were the ubiquitous Bennys and “two eggs any style” plates, but we both leaned into French toast layered generously with banana and Nutella ($9), and slurped up hearty, lumpy potato soup ($9) that came garnished with crispy bacon shards.

A five-piece band that had set up against the wall started playing bluegrass as we were readying to go, fully sated. Timbre hosts live music just about every Sunday. Be sure to check their website or call ahead to confirm.

Timbre is very much a character-driven place, one that is evocative of its eclectic and laid-back neighbourhood. I don’t think I could give it a greater compliment than to say that if I lived close by, it would likely be my local. If it had a fireplace, I’d probably ask to move in.

Timbre
2068 Commercial, 604-215-7515, TimbreRestaurant.com
Food: 3 stars / Service: 3 stars / Atmosphere: 3 stars / Value: 4 stars