Photo Credits: Ottawa Citizen
I was inspired to write a post about my first ever experience at the Parliament Center Block restaurant. However after doing some quick research for more information on the famous spot I found a person who I thought could do a much better job then me. The person happens to be the chancellor of my university “alma mater” Mount Allison and it just so happens he was inspired the same I was over 8 years ago.
In 2004 Peter Mansbridge wrote an editorial piece for Macleans Magazine. The title of his work was called. Where The Elite Eat: The Parliamentary Restaurant’s mysterious ‘voices’ can reveal secrets. It is a first hand account of the history and background of this majestic and amazing place where the halls leading up the restaurant are aligned one after the other with portraits of the former Prime Ministers of Canada and of course the current PM Stephen Harper as well. Peter Mansbridge’s editorial captures the essence of what I felt and experienced while on the hill inside the restaurant the first time.
Mount Allison University appoints Peter Mansbridge as Chancellor
PETER MANSBRIDGE
| Oct 25, 2004 | MACLEANS MAGAZINE
ON THE SIXTH floor of the Centre Block of the Parliament Buildings sits one of the great little treasures of the nation’s capital. It’s the Parliamentary Restaurant — at the extreme western end of the building. It’s the formal restaurant used by those “we the people” send to the House of Commons and those the prime minister sends to the Senate. Various hangers-on to the closed community that is Parliament have access, too — and that includes the distinguished, and not so distinguished, members of the parliamentary press gallery. Having served in the gallery, I have a bit of history in the room myself.
You’ve probably heard of the restaurant — it’s often cited as an example of waste and privilege afforded to the Ottawa elite. The old Reform party even boycotted the restaurant for a while, but its successors now find it acceptable. There was a time, and it wasn’t that long ago, when you could get a meal and a glass of wine, or two, for less than $10. But those days are gone as prices now seem much more in line with what you pay outside the rarefied air of Parliament Hill. Yet price was not the reason I used to love going to the restaurant back when I worked on the Hill, nor is it now during the few occasions each year when I travel to the capital to cover some political event.
The food is still excellent, but what remains best about that room is the “voices.”When you sit down, the odds are pretty good you’ll be hearing someone else talking, crystal clear, as if they were sitting right across from you. But they’re not, and sometimes it can take a few minutes to figure out exactly what’s going on. I’ve sat there over the years, listening carefully while I shifted my eyes across the room trying to match what I was hearing with the flapping lips at table after table. And then suddenly things sync up, and the voice matches a mouth. If you’re lucky, it’s a cabinet minister outlining some policy about to be announced, or some caucus member revealing the secrets of the party’s weekly meeting. But be careful — if you can hear them perfectly, the odds are they can hear you too. And here’s why.Being on the top floor, the restaurant has windows on the ceiling, and being Parliament we’re not talking box-store skylights here. These are beautiful glass domes and therein lies the answer to the “voices.” As the sound travels upward, it bounces off the curved surface and is redirected with seemingly no loss of volume. It’s why most high-profile diners, desperate for the confidentiality of their conversations, aren’t seated in the main room but instead book one of the alcoves that line two walls, where the ceilings are solid.
John Diefenbaker used to have his own table in the first alcove on the left — which made sense when he was PM, but was surprising in the last decade of his life because he wasn’t shy about everyone knowing what he was plotting.The day I was there a few weeks ago, the major players weren’t around — perhaps because it was Throne Speech day and their talents were needed elsewhere. That’s likely to change in the days and weeks ahead, so now’s the time to catch all those rookie MPs, ones who haven’t been properly briefed on the “voices,” being indiscreet with their secrets. After all, with all the tension of a minority government, people do get hungry, and they do like to talk.
