Woodfire Pizza & Pasta

I came here only once, in March of 2013, with my wife Tiffany. We were celebrating the five year anniversary of our friends Todd and Michelle. We were first-​time visitors to Gabriola, and they had both been raving about Woodfire since they had moved there. Their anniversary seemed the perfect time to finally try the place out. Upon being seated and after ordering our drinks, we reviewed the menu, asking each other for suggestions and enjoying this rare time we could spend together as friends. We all had busy lives, Tiff and I had been married for only eighteen months, and were busy building a life for ourselves. Todd and Michelle were more rooted than us. Todd was an up and coming Lawyer at a business firm on Vancouver Island, and Michelle stayed at home with their young son, Gabriel. We talked and ordered appetizers of bread sticks with olive oil along with more drinks and started our eyes on the entrees. I won’t say the food was cheap, but an occasion like this deserved to have no expense spared. The four of us were laughing and discussing every aspect of life. Our career ambitions, our personal goals, our desires. Todd was adamant that one day he would own a boat, and when his son was grown up, would spend his early retirement sailing across the Pacific, going where no one had gone before. Todd had always been an adventurer at heart. The appetizers arrived and there was a brief lull in the conversation while we tasted the food before us, and made our final decisions on what entrees we would order. I glanced across the table to Tiff, and our eyes met for but a brief moment. We were thinking the same thing, both glad that the topic of our own children had not come up.
It had been a January day like many others that year. The sky was grey and a light rain was falling upon the roof of our car as we drove to the hospital. No words were said between Tiff and I, we had been waiting for this appointment for three weeks. The anticipation in that time had been terrible, and we had many arguments during it. But now, it seemed almost calm as we drove on, like no matter what happened, our agonizing wait would be over. We had been married for just over a year at that point, and we had been trying since our wedding night to get pregnant. Tiff had always wanted children. I had never been crazy on the idea myself, but from the day I first met her, I knew I was in love. This was a woman I was willing to spend my life with. I had been a wild teenager, and an even wilder young adult, but meeting her made me realise for the first time in my life that I wanted something more. I wanted to be with her, to start a family with her. We got engaged after six months of dating. My parents said it was too soon, perhaps they were right, but the cautions of others go to the wind when a young man feels true love for the first time. Everything had been perfect like a fairy tale at first, but now, driving to the hospital on that cold January morning, the picture image had been shattered.
The doctor’s office was grey, and cold, like the day outside. I held my wife’s hand as we listened to what the doctor had to say. He spoke for what felt like hours, but the only words I heard were the ones that hovered between the lines of all his medical jargon
«You will never have children.»
As the doctor spoke on, my wife’s grip slowly loosened, and our hands fell apart from one another. I don’t remember much of the rest of the appointment now, I don’t remember shaking the doctor’s hand, or getting in the car to drive away from the man who with cold courtesy, had doomed my marriage. We thought it would be okay at first, we thought we could get through it. There were other options, we could always adopt, right? But something had changed in Tiffany that morning at the doctor’s office, and I believe something changed in me too.
Now, two months later, we were sat with Todd and Michelle at the Woodfire eating dinner. We ordered and ate our food, had a few more drinks, and parted ways promising to see each other again soon, and Tiff and I returned home. The next few months proved to be the end of our marriage. It was not filled with fights and screaming, we simply drifted apart. One day at breakfast, Tiff turned to me and said the words I knew were coming
«I don’t love you anymore.»
The divorce went as smooth as any divorce could. Tiff kept everything civil, for which I will always be grateful. We both knew neither of us were at fault, it was simple poor fate that had brought us to this point. We never promised to stay in touch, that would have been too painful, and a promise unkept is worse than any separation. It’s been over two years now. I can’t say I’m over everything, because I’m not. But I can hope I’ve made steps to move on with my life, and look to something new.
Food was alright, a bit pricey. The waitress was kind of rude too, no tip.

can’t say enough about the food. The seafood part of the menu is fresh, tasty and you get lots. An amazing chef who could hold his/​her own in any major city with a five star menu. Celiac option was fantastic. Went to bed stuffed and lots of left overs for tomorrow lunch. Friendly staff too. Worth an island trip just for this!