Arabica Cafe in Wellington

Unlike many of the other guests at Arabica in Grey St I had not just staggered out of an office building, lurched along the Quay and burst into this busy coffee cafe opposite the Intercontinental Hotel. No, I had strolled along with grace and presence past the Embassy of Mexico on Featherston Street in search of full strength espresso  wizardry when the sight, or was it the aroma, of Arabica stopped me in my tracks. Whilst I may not go so far as to suggest I was in mid-step when this occurred it would be fair to state I was in full possession of my high velocity feet at this point.....hence my ability to stop quickly and appraise the landscape, as urban as it was, and see past the mill &  throng of Wellington dominatrixes, gigilos, public servants carrying magnums of champagne, Courier drivers wearing Speedos and middle-aged church ministers with wet comb-overs. Bizarre you might think but we live in unusual times....

Everything is so concentrated in Wellington! In the space of a hundred metres you can see it all and, fortunately, there must be more cafes and restaurants per square kilometre than anywhere else in this outstanding country. What this means is that you are never far from the sustenance needed to get you from one meeting to the next, never far from a decent cut of steak, a chilled SB or, God Be Praised, a room temp Cab Sauv from.......well, you're all so wine savvy you'll know......

Anyway, back to Arabica. Great little bolthole in the heart of the city that has a loyal following. The brightly lit food cabinet batted its soulful, sensual  eyes at me as soon as I walked up to the counter, the chocolate caramel slice showing more than enough of itself in public! What was a man to do? Succumb of course  -  don't we always when confronted by the pleasures of the flesh?

Espresso, choc caramel slice, an ounce of conversation, a pound of observation and a tonne of satisfaction.

Sums it up really. If you're in Wellington and are prepared to make your way through the gauntlet of Pollies, pimps, prostitutes and priests then go for it. Enjoy coffee, cake and conviviality at Arabica.

Restaurant Emile in Toulouse

My cup doth overflow when it comes to fine dining experiences and one of my more memorable recent outings was to the enlightened, esteemed  establishment known as Emile’s in central Toulouse. If you’re looking for unexpurgated charisma, lashings of atmosphere and a real sense of local je ne sais quoi in the setting of a very sexy Toulousiane city house in the even  sexier  Place Saint-Georges then this restaurant should be on your list of places to visit. What’s more, you will find the Maitre ‘D a most entertaining French version of Basil Fawlty but with ‘love’. He will make the ladies feel great and the men will be thoroughly entertained in the ways of French flattery towards their women…..

For all of this it is the food that you will forever remember with joy in your hearts and in the comforting knowledge that fine cuisine lives on in France. We were a party of 4 for lunch in what was a packed house. My companions were regulars and so attracted more than a fair share of attention from the incredibly charming ‘Basil’. This simply added to my enjoyment!

There’s nothing like a well-settled Bordeaux to move you one step closer to nirvana at the table. The 1996 Les Pagodes de Cos from St Estephe did just that, its smooth  urbanity gracefully fuelled our frivolity and we ordered from the menu with free and unfettered resolve.

Ravioles de Foie Gras, Crème aux Cepes left me, especially, in no doubt that this was not the work of a first year apprentice. In an elegant bowl the ravioli did sit,  afloat in the decadent crème, its presence proudly signalled by the loudspeaker of  aromatic confidence.  It was clear to me at this moment why Emile’s was so popular amongst the Toulousian  food intelligentsia……three pampered, ravishing, pachyglossal  parcels of paciferous foreplay.

We sipped on, our normally loud Antipodean voices and happy dispositions seemingly of interest to the mainly reserved French clientele. The others had fish, I had duck  -  well, it’s almost a requirement in the Canard capital of Europe. The Magret de Canard grille, sauce miel epices was a man-sized portion of moist, very Languedoc-Roussillon duck, surprisingly succulent yet robust and full of a certain continental gaminess that was powerful yet subtle in its presence. Cooked with consistency & to perfection through to the middle, a delicious contribution to my day.

More wine, a dessert and an espresso coffee or two followed and with a tinge of sadness it was time to leave.

Until next time…..

Gaia Restaurant, Foix, South-Western France

If you are lucky enough to find yourself in that quintessential south-western French town of Foix, little more than an hour by car from Toulouse, it would behove you  to visit a snug, unpretentious little restaurant called Gaia. Tucked away in a narrow cobbled street of three storey shuttered village houses, this honest gem not only boasts  a transcontinental following but also enjoys fans from countries far and wide.

Accompanied by my gorgeous daughter and two internationally acclaimed wine and food connoisseurs from the Midi Pyrennee region I relished this opportunity to experience the gentle lunchtime fare of Englishman John Player delivered to our table with such glad and gracious tidings by his lovely Australian wife.  We’d chosen a quiet day and this allowed us a chance to engage with the owners and  to linger over our meals with the everpresence of a bevvy of beautiful local wines, predominated by the much-loved rose style so popular in the region but, of course, including the 2008 Minervois pictured below.

The Plat du Jour, Tagine de poulet au confit de citron et olive verts was a towering feast of flavour, a sensational stack, a soft, creamy cabochon to be savoured and treasured with every precious mouthful. The full gambit of flavours had been well captured in the dish and reflected the care, attention and respect shown to the ingredients during the preparation and cooking stages.

 Chef John’s tiny kitchen is open to view and diners can see him at work during the course of their meals, giving an intimate touch of reality to the experience and valuable interactivity.

Tarte au citron may not sound particularly flambouyant in dessert terms but I can assure you that the very homely, non-commercial nature of this beautiful sweet was a melting moment of luscious joy. Exquisite texture, perfectly moist and bursting with the summeriness of the season’s harvest. Gaia and its owners   have every reason to celebrate the success of this most excellent petite restaurant. I will revisit when next luxuriating in South-West France!