by Pamela Young
Eating and drinking on Mayne Island—with a side dish of community
“I’ve had three Zoom meetings already this morning,” says the guy ahead of me in the Espresso Equation coffee trailer lineup, “so I haven’t had time to get down here for coffee.”
“Three Zoom meetings before 10am? And no coffee?” says the woman at the takeout window. “What can I get started for you?”
I allow myself a small interior snicker. I’ve been in this guy’s situation—but not today. It’s the first morning of my four-day retreat on Mayne Island, one of the smaller southern Gulf Islands, in the Salish Sea between Vancouver and Vancouver Island. I’ve visited almost all the southern Gulfs, usually as a solo traveler, attracted by their relaxed, friendly, artsy vibe. Mayne Island is quieter and more easily explored on foot, which is how I love to experience new places.
When it’s my turn at the order window, I request the Golden Turmeric latte. Its ingredient list captures my imagination, reading like the jar labels on an apothecary’s shelf—organic turmeric root powder, ginger root, lion’s mane mushroom extract, turkey tail mushroom extract, turmeric extract, holy basil, cardamom and black pepper. “I’ve heard this latte gives people superpowers,” says the barista with a smile, “but it doesn’t actually have coffee in it; I don’t want you to be sad when you get it.” “No problem,” I say. I take my latte to a bench in the shade of some towering cedars, just across the narrow parking lot.
Coffee lovers queue at Mike and Carol Barnes’ Espresso Equation on Mayne Island.
The latte gives my tastebuds a puzzle to solve—it’s creamy, a little earthy, a little spicy, and smells a bit medicinal, hence the promised superpowers, I guess. As I sip, I listen in on the conversation of a group of locals chatting together under a gazebo a few feet away, their mismatched chairs pulled together in a circle, admiring phone photos of someone’s new grandson. A couple of minutes later, a few of them rush over to investigate the source of a loud clatter from the other end of the parking lot. “Oh, hi, Phyllis! Who put that parking barrier there? Way to announce your arrival with a bang!”
Residents love the Barnes’ coffee equation—baristas who care about the details of making a quality cup, excellent beans, suitably stored and ground and a top-of-the-line espresso machine.
These are the types of interactions that Espresso Equation owners Mike and Carol Barnes enjoy watching from the trailer window. As part-time homeowners on Mayne Island for several years, they discovered that, even on an island of 1,300 permanent and 1,000 temporary residents, it was possible to feel lonely. Residences are scattered around the heavily forested, 21 square kilometre island, sometimes in isolated locations and occupied by people seeking solitude. Few people were reaching out to the Barnes, and they wondered if others were experiencing the same sense of isolation. Opening the coffee trailer after they became permanent residents allowed them to marry their love of a quality cup of coffee with making connections between people in what they call the Forest Lounge, where I saw locals chatting the day I visited. Residents love the Barnes’ coffee equation—baristas who care about the details of making a quality cup, excellent beans, suitably stored and ground (the Barnes get theirs from Indigenous-owned Spirit Bear in Port Coquitlam) and a top-of-the-line espresso machine. But their customers value the sense of community they find just as much. When the Barnes close the trailer in the autumn, people tell them, “‘I can’t wait until you reopen. What am I going to do? We’re not going to see anybody.’”
Josh Wylder’s whimsically named Give Pizza Chance, located across from the float plane dock
The next day, I walk to Miner’s Bay, the Island’s oceanside downtown where the Saturday outdoor farmers’ market is in full swing. I reluctantly bypass the home baking booths and a long lineup for a Ukrainian buffet, saving my appetite for a platter-sized pizza at Give Pizza Chance, another trailer-based operation located right across from the float plane dock. Josh Wylder, the pie creator, maker and owner, combines his chef’s training with his musical background to create wood-fired pizzas whose ingredients honour famous musicians. Josh says he puts “a lot of heart into balancing flavours and textures and coming up with some things you wouldn’t think of.” I order the Ravi Shankar—savoury chunks of tandoori chicken, red onion and red pepper, sweet mango chutney, crunchy toasted cashews with a crisp-on-the-edges and chewy inside crust—and gobble down slice after slice. I’m sorry I’m not on the island longer so I can sample the Guess Who, Josh’s original creation for those who can’t decide, or the Robert Plant, created as a result of a community contest, featuring spinach, red onion, grape tomatoes, artichoke hearts and fresh basil. I’ve also missed the Thursday evening Mayne Island Showcase, which Josh organizes and hosts, bringing together as many as 100 people to chow down on pizza and listen to musicians from on and off Mayne island. Next time.
The Montrose Local, a popular spot for lunch and dinner in the Fernwood Centre.
The Montrose Local is another delightful find, one of several permanent businesses situated mid-island in the Fernwood Centre, a manor-style, sage green building
The Montrose Local is another delightful find, one of several permanent businesses situated mid-island in the Fernwood Centre, a manor-style, sage green building with the shops grouped at street level along a shaded boardwalk. I’m instantly attracted to The Local’s vibe, its doors propped open, a few Victorian-style patio sets outside the entrance, with an adjacent grassy space with larger umbrella-sheltered tables and a small playground. As I examine the menu, a local drops by to show off his baby daughter to one of the servers, three children rocket around playing tag, and a couple have rummaged through the cafe’s collection of games and set up a chess board next to their table.
That night, I experience an Instagram moment when the special arrives on a rectangular antique grey platter. The freshly-caught ling cod, delivered that day, takes centre stage. It’s lightly panfried and moist, surrounded by pop-in-my-mouth fresh peas in a light lemon cream sauce. The potato croquettes are crispy outside and creamy inside. I’m so impressed I return for lunch a couple of days later and am surprised when one of the staff members greets me by name. I order the weekly grilled cheese and soup special. Not your average grilled cheese, but a layered delight of Italian deli meats, oozing cheese, with tart pickled red onion on thickly sliced toasted bread. The Guinness braised-onion and potato soup is thick, rich and malty sweet. I’m surprised when one of the servers offers dessert on the house as a token of appreciation for my return visit. I choose a limoncello tartuffo, savouring both its citrusy creaminess and the generosity of this little cafe. Steff McBurney, who co-owns The Local with partner Jeff McPherson says, “We really encourage people to share, to bond and connect over food. Food should be fun, a bright spot in your day.”
There were many fun, food-related bright spots in the days I spent on Mayne Island. Even though I ate all my meals alone, I was never lonely, and the welcome I received ensures that I’ll be back.
Note: Hours of operation change depending on the season, power outages, availability of product, travel and family commitments. Check their social media accounts before you visit.