The undefinability of Niwa

• Address: 1875 Powell St, Vancouver

Don’t call Niwa a Japanese restaurant. Don’t call it a Japanese fusion restaurant, either. In fact, maybe you shouldn’t try to describe it at all. Sometimes the best things are hard to define.

Yes, there will be chopsticks at your table. And sure, the “let us cook for you” option is called omakase (at least, if this article doesn’t inspire a change). And indeed, the name of the restaurant is a Japanese word meaning “garden.” But Niwa has its own charmingly unique little thing going on.

The restaurant quietly opened on Powell Street in December 2024, taking over the space that used to be occupied by The Pie Shoppe. Almost unrecognizable as its former self, the room has been transformed into a serene, almost hushed space. Brought to life by local designer Claire Saksun, it features an earthy colour palette; tasteful, glowy wall sconces; artfully-placed drapey fabrics; and light, calming woods. It all provides a beautiful — even a little sexy — backdrop for enjoying chef Darren Gee’s playful, seasonal menu.

“What we’re really trying to do is tell the story of producers and the things that are happening around us seasonally,” he says. “So it’s not so much about this technique or that technique.”

Pretty much all of Niwa’s produce and protein comes from local farms, and the restaurant works with whole animals, often partnering with other restaurants and divvying up the goods. It results in a menu that’s constantly changing based on what’s at peak freshness.

“It’s nice that the season and the ingredients dictate what you’re going to make,” Gee says. “So we already have the direction pointed for us, and then it’s more about trying to find the best way to showcase that.”

With Niwa’s dishes changing as often as daily, depending on ingredient availability, you could probably never get sick of eating there. A recent dinner featured an array of weird and wonderful delights, including decadent duck and chicken liver pate served with a half-moon of crunchy purple daikon; a creamy rutabaga soup (sounds boring—it was not); and a duck breast that was aged for five weeks, and served with purple turnip tops and yuzu kosho (a delicious condiment made from fermented yuzu zest and chili).

The drink menu is similarly interesting, featuring a fun and international low-intervention wine list alongside a selection of artisan sake. Cocktails include the Niwa Martini (made unique with the addition of sherry, elderflower, and oregano) and the non-alcoholic Pear & Back Again (pear juice, celery tonic, lemon-ginger bitters).

So, yeah: this place is kind of hard to pin down. But that’s actually half the fun of dining there.

Niwa was created by Gee alongside Miki Ellis, Stephen Whiteside, and Robin Corbett. How the four of them ended up opening a restaurant together is a spider web of a tale.

Ellis and Whiteside are long-time business partners, whose other ventures include Dachi (a similarly revolving-identity neighbourhood spot on East Hastings); Hānai (a Hawaiian restaurant that closed indefinitely in 2023 due to a fire); Mucker Next Door (a lifestyle shop); Plain Jane (a seasonal, fruit-forward ice cream joint); and Tall Shadow Bakery (a sweet-treat shop).

The duo previously joined forces with Gee at his Commercial Drive restaurant Ugly Dumpling after another business partner exited; when Gee moved to Japan to help his wife’s family with their restaurant, Ellis and Whiteside turned the space into Hānai (and for those wondering, there’s still no word on when it might be able to reopen). General manager Corbett had previously worked with the group at both Ugly Dumpling and Hānai, so when Gee was getting ready to make the move back to Vancouver, the four of them started discussing what a partnership could turn into.

“As the time was approaching for his return, we started chatting about what we wanted it to look like,” says Ellis. “And what parts we loved about Ugly, and what parts we wanted to explore further as a different idea.”

Which brings us back to what Niwa is — or perhaps what it isn’t.

“There are a lot of things about Niwa that nod to or seemingly feel a bit more Japanese, but by no means do we want to be a Japanese restaurant,” Ellis muses. “I think we’re trying to find that balance of it being our own, and not trying to fit into a specific cuisine, necessarily — which is always less of an elevator pitch and more of a conversation, because it’s harder to talk about that way.”

It provides an opportunity for constant reinvention, and for play. For connection through conversation. It’s also, Ellis acknowledges, a little complicated.

“It’s never straightforward,” she says. “Sometimes we laugh and we’re like, ‘We should just do casual Italian.’”