e wary of The Sandbar, for it leads a double life. Set back amidst the Granville Island artisan shops, it has the feel of a well-kept secret. Walk up the stairs to the main dining room, however, and you’ll feel like you’ve found seafood’s mediocre answer to (gulp) The Keg. It takes a gondola ride to the third floor to find the pearl in this abyss. But even then, be careful of missteps. The path to one of Vancouver’s best patios is fraught with middle-aged bachelors and bachelorettes with buckets of cash (gulp, gulp). One false move and you’ll be waist-deep in quicksand, sucked into the depths among the crabs and red snapper.

Its allure is easy to spot. This complex of seafood, which boasts a sushi bar, glass wine cellar, open kitchen, lobster-trap tables, and a full size tugboat suspended above the bar, is cutesy. Harpoon yourself a table on the deck, and it’s damn easy to settle in; wingback chairs and blankets and fireplaces, oh my. It’s not unlike an Aspen après ski bar, simply replace slopes for sunset views of False Creek, and ski bunnies for ski cougars. Then chalk those cougars full of oysters.

If you’re on the prowl for a sweet place to romance your best baby, sit by the fire, delve headlong into an extensive wine list, and eat Salmon so fresh that it woke up that morning with his fish buddies unaware that he was to be your dinner, this is the spot. Aphrodisiacs are a shucking away. Just do your best to excuse the overly chummy service, and the American business-types hawking on your date. The later you show up, the better. Expense accounts seldom justify booze bought past ten.

The Sandbar gets good grades for being cozy, and it doesn’t labor to be more pretentious than it is. It is for people who know what they want. A daily fresh catch list circulates to each table for those who are extremely picky about their fresh fish. Turn it over to find an array of single patrons’ cell numbers for those who are not fussy about their meat. – C.L.

Patio Noise _________________________