There’s nothing remotely amusing about the Muse Cafe in Newmarket. This is quintessential Honk Kong mainstreet/local with nary a WASP in sight. Serving traditional, everyday Chinese fare this is a cafe that doesn’t aspire to any airs and graces whatsoever. This is far from being a criticism, of course, as this bustling little corner eatery has somehow managed to recreate a back street HK feel to it with prices to match.
If you’re not used to such things then you need to look past the well worn decor and the fading picture menu by the entrance, order something that appeals and settle in for an educational culinary ride.
We had wanted to dine at a Taiwanese Restaurant when in Auckland for the day but, alas, couldn’t find one that was open or easily accessible at the time. Our driver, a former Hong Konger, immediately suggested Muse as he had eaten there many times and insisted to my Chinese colleague and me that genuine food could be had at cheap prices.
A chilled glass of milk tea was very welcome to begin with as the cafe was quite a few degrees warmer than outside; in fact, there were about 6 high-powered electric fans dotted about the floor – testimony to how warm it gets I suspect!
In a matter of a few minutes a well-filled plate of sliced pork with lemon grass sauce and steamed rice arrived at the table. Just enough of a lunch course to reinvigorate me for the afternoon’s meetings. Amidst the cacophony of chattering customers and what was almost a fog of intermingled, delicious oriental aromas wafting about the room I savoured each and every mouthful, fully appreciating the Chinese style of including lots of thinly sliced and diced vegetables in dishes. One feels that real value is being had. We pecked away at a side dish of cháyèdàn or Chinese Tea Eggs for final fulfilment.
If you’re wandering about Newmarket during the week and want to try something quite different to the chic cafes in the area then Muse might be good for you. Don’t let your expectations become too unrealistic though....
Sunday 29 April 2012
The Kitchen Cafe, Christchurch City
Suffer the little children....and the ratepayers if you live in Christchurch! For those of us needing some non-alcoholic fortification after entering the council’s $100,000,000 building in Hereford St and paying rates instalments there is The Kitchen Cafe. Up the stairs to the northern end of the building you will find a pleasant enough setting with more than sufficient accommodation for the hungry and the destitute(ratepayers) to sit and sip, nibble and nourish. Take your place in a booth or casually relax in one of the plastic cafe chairs in the sun outside – whichever you choose you will quickly recover from the ferocious heart palpitations experienced downstairs at the “Rates Payments” counter as this little cafe has a more than acceptable range of foods to offer much needed comfort.
The large Samsonite suitcase full of cash I passed over to the rates department for instalments on a number of severely earthquake damaged properties left me feeling that I was in urgent and desperate need of something much stronger than The Kitchen Cafe had to offer; however, I coped remarkably well with a strong espresso, a chicken Caesar salad and a few rays of sunshine. The coffee was potent, dark and stimulating, the Caesar fine in quality, great of quantity and more than fair of price ($9.50....can you believe it?). With handfuls of chicken chunks, liberal scatterings of bacon pieces, copious clusters of croutons, cascades of thinly sliced cos lettuce and generous shavings of cheese this was great value.
The large Samsonite suitcase full of cash I passed over to the rates department for instalments on a number of severely earthquake damaged properties left me feeling that I was in urgent and desperate need of something much stronger than The Kitchen Cafe had to offer; however, I coped remarkably well with a strong espresso, a chicken Caesar salad and a few rays of sunshine. The coffee was potent, dark and stimulating, the Caesar fine in quality, great of quantity and more than fair of price ($9.50....can you believe it?). With handfuls of chicken chunks, liberal scatterings of bacon pieces, copious clusters of croutons, cascades of thinly sliced cos lettuce and generous shavings of cheese this was great value.
Industry Zen, Auckland
My advice to the serious diner is to arrive at Industry Zen before 6.30pm especially on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday evening. This is an action-packed Oriental powerhouse exuding character & style with enormous thematic appeal and the queues can get quite long as the evening draws out.
Our party of eight immersed ourselves in a 12 course extravaganza to celebrate the beginning of autumn in the City of Sails and to wish some of the guests farewell as they were to leave for Canada the next morning.
What is a Japanese culinary adventure without miso soup? Such flavour and such a beautiful swirl of joy on the palate if it’s made well; such was the miso here – we all hailed this soft, warm initiator of the evening.
Around the table were placed bowls of Edamame, always a favourite with me. So simple and a playful diversion for the mouth as you pop the pods and savour the flavour.
Tuna Sashimi, salmon & avocado rolls, spider rolls, mayonnaise prawn rolls and spicy tuna rolls followed. A lot of food, in truth, but as the conversation and good humour around the table played like an orchestra at its best the food almost became a secondary consideration. Then came the prawn tempura, vegetable tempura and daruma salad, all winners around the table.
Throw in a plethora of other bite-sized dishes like steamed seasonal vegetables, fried squid legs and fresh blue-fin tuna toro nigiri sushi with fresh wasabi and you will understand how sated and pleased we were by evening’s end.
We interspersed the eating , the jokes and the conversation with significant doses of Saki, adding immeasurably to our good fortune on the night. Kanpai!
Votes on your review x0x0 | Add your feedback to this | Share on Facebook
Our party of eight immersed ourselves in a 12 course extravaganza to celebrate the beginning of autumn in the City of Sails and to wish some of the guests farewell as they were to leave for Canada the next morning.
What is a Japanese culinary adventure without miso soup? Such flavour and such a beautiful swirl of joy on the palate if it’s made well; such was the miso here – we all hailed this soft, warm initiator of the evening.
Around the table were placed bowls of Edamame, always a favourite with me. So simple and a playful diversion for the mouth as you pop the pods and savour the flavour.
Tuna Sashimi, salmon & avocado rolls, spider rolls, mayonnaise prawn rolls and spicy tuna rolls followed. A lot of food, in truth, but as the conversation and good humour around the table played like an orchestra at its best the food almost became a secondary consideration. Then came the prawn tempura, vegetable tempura and daruma salad, all winners around the table.
Throw in a plethora of other bite-sized dishes like steamed seasonal vegetables, fried squid legs and fresh blue-fin tuna toro nigiri sushi with fresh wasabi and you will understand how sated and pleased we were by evening’s end.
We interspersed the eating , the jokes and the conversation with significant doses of Saki, adding immeasurably to our good fortune on the night. Kanpai!
Votes on your review x0x0 | Add your feedback to this | Share on Facebook
Soul Bar & Bistro, Viaduct Harbour, Auckland
Who can deny that the Viaduct Basin is New Zealand’s premier visitor attraction for locals and internationals with its vainglorious display of private maritime wealth, waterside apartments, hotels and, of course, restaurants. Entertainment for all !
Whether you’re just promenading in the sun, watching the watercraft come and go, espying the well-known sipping chilled wines on their afterdecks or looking for a meal that will leave you lost for words....in a good way of course, then this is the place to be.
I had received a personal recommendation from no less than a Masterchef judge to dine at Soul Restaurant and Bar. How could I not take note?
Lunchtime at Soul is like the tide coming in – there’s a human wave that surges into the place, filling every available table and you must count yourself lucky if you have secured a position with a view of the water.
This is a restaurant with clean, modern lines, appreciable space between tables and excellent natural light from the full length glass roof. The sheer size, or length, of the premises is broken up with three rows of hanging plants and these filter the sun to an extent.
What impressed me from the outset was the efficiency of the wait staff and their ability to handle the great body of diners once the restaurant was full. It is no mean feat to keep 200 people happy and I witnessed no evidence of stress or staff bumping into one another, no confusion or mixed up orders(and I was within earshot of the waiter station at one end of the dining area). My own needs were attended to well enough with cold water brought to my table immediately, drinks orders taken and time left to peruse the menu. I was expecting a long wait to eat or at least a delay in between courses but I experienced nothing like this at all.
A glass of Wooing Tree Pinot Noir 2008 whetted my whistle while I waited for my first course, Goats Milk Haloumi Fritters with almonds , mint and honey. The combination of the almonds, mint and honey stood out so expressively, perhaps surprisingly, and created a beautiful melt in your mouth experience that was truly memorable.
In between courses I had the opportunity to people watch, a favourite pastime of mine. The restaurant seemed to have attracted the well manicured, the well coiffured, the well madeup and the very well dressed on this particular day with an adjacent table to mine taking first prize for sartorial elegance in women under 30! A stunning group of self-assured, magnificently attired, happy young women who seemed to have an unquenchable collective thirst for champagne and cocktails. All on the company I hope!!
Roast dry aged Hereford beef rib, Café de Paris butter, truffle mash, seared vine tomatoes & red wine jus. This main dish was the star of the show with an accompaniment of garden leaf salad with avocado, cucumber & lemon dressing and a further side of steamed broccoli. Such a natural mingle of everyday vegetables so enchantingly displayed and with an almost translucent quality in the bright sunlight. The individual components on the plates came together successfully to deliver a very palatable experience, overseen by the superbly cooked medium-rare piece of beef.
All credit to the chef(s) in the kitchen for producing such a good product on the plates and equally to the front of house staff who just seemed to have an enviable skill in coping with the numbers. I’m impressed and I can fully understand how this establishment consistently wins awards for customer service and staff training and development. Well deserved I’d have to say based on my visit.
Whether you’re just promenading in the sun, watching the watercraft come and go, espying the well-known sipping chilled wines on their afterdecks or looking for a meal that will leave you lost for words....in a good way of course, then this is the place to be.
I had received a personal recommendation from no less than a Masterchef judge to dine at Soul Restaurant and Bar. How could I not take note?
Lunchtime at Soul is like the tide coming in – there’s a human wave that surges into the place, filling every available table and you must count yourself lucky if you have secured a position with a view of the water.
This is a restaurant with clean, modern lines, appreciable space between tables and excellent natural light from the full length glass roof. The sheer size, or length, of the premises is broken up with three rows of hanging plants and these filter the sun to an extent.
What impressed me from the outset was the efficiency of the wait staff and their ability to handle the great body of diners once the restaurant was full. It is no mean feat to keep 200 people happy and I witnessed no evidence of stress or staff bumping into one another, no confusion or mixed up orders(and I was within earshot of the waiter station at one end of the dining area). My own needs were attended to well enough with cold water brought to my table immediately, drinks orders taken and time left to peruse the menu. I was expecting a long wait to eat or at least a delay in between courses but I experienced nothing like this at all.
A glass of Wooing Tree Pinot Noir 2008 whetted my whistle while I waited for my first course, Goats Milk Haloumi Fritters with almonds , mint and honey. The combination of the almonds, mint and honey stood out so expressively, perhaps surprisingly, and created a beautiful melt in your mouth experience that was truly memorable.
In between courses I had the opportunity to people watch, a favourite pastime of mine. The restaurant seemed to have attracted the well manicured, the well coiffured, the well madeup and the very well dressed on this particular day with an adjacent table to mine taking first prize for sartorial elegance in women under 30! A stunning group of self-assured, magnificently attired, happy young women who seemed to have an unquenchable collective thirst for champagne and cocktails. All on the company I hope!!
Roast dry aged Hereford beef rib, Café de Paris butter, truffle mash, seared vine tomatoes & red wine jus. This main dish was the star of the show with an accompaniment of garden leaf salad with avocado, cucumber & lemon dressing and a further side of steamed broccoli. Such a natural mingle of everyday vegetables so enchantingly displayed and with an almost translucent quality in the bright sunlight. The individual components on the plates came together successfully to deliver a very palatable experience, overseen by the superbly cooked medium-rare piece of beef.
All credit to the chef(s) in the kitchen for producing such a good product on the plates and equally to the front of house staff who just seemed to have an enviable skill in coping with the numbers. I’m impressed and I can fully understand how this establishment consistently wins awards for customer service and staff training and development. Well deserved I’d have to say based on my visit.
Cook'N With Gas, Christchurch
There was no time to lose and so with an enthusiastic hobbledygee my small party of hungry, salivating gobblers and I made our way down the ghostly city boulevard, overshadowed by the fenced off, partially ruined Arts Centre to arrive at the warm and welcoming Cookn with Gas, the bistro with the bare boards, beef and the prospect of a beautiful bouffage.
This establishment is a “bistro de brilliance” with a strong focus on delivering consistently good fare to customers ranging from the well-informed food tourist to the discerning, multi-visit local . There is a sense that you are in the hands of a well managed, close-knit team when you dine at this restaurant and this intimacy more often than not provides the guest with a very satisfying experience. Notwithstanding this, there is almost a deliberate drive to appear as casual as possible, a deliberate separation from fine dining by the uncoordinated approaches of the wait staff, the occasional slip in service. A bistro, after all.
A drink while settling in and absorbing the captivating blend of Victoriana and 1920s poster art is a fine idea indeed. The wine list is smooth and offers commendable style coverage with a strong range of by the bottle as well as by the glass.
An aromatic drop of Chateau de Sours, a Bordeaux red that will wrap you protectively in its antioxidants, smother you with kindness and get your lips a tremblin’ with excitement may be just the titivating start to your evening that you need. It was for me!
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! These were my mental words as the Chicken Waterzooi soup was ladled into the bowl before me, its lush, lavish ingredients buoyant and beckoning. The menu describes this unusually named dish as “piping hot soup served over poached chicken, olive and thyme tortellini & autumn vegetables finished with parsley, garlic and cream.” This was no thick & viscous hot & bubbling pool; more of a
carefully choreographed celebration of quality ingredients commingling in a relaxed pond of natural, ambrosial goodness.
The lamb, the pork, the duck and even the vegetarian dish looked fit and proper for my dinner on this night but I could not stop myself from once again prostrating myself before the altar of bovinity; the soulful mooing of the Hallmark Beef offered the gallop of joy I was in search of, its “prime medium-rare fillet with bearnaise and grilled rump stuffed with peppers and spring onion on bacon, cheddar gratin with courgettes, carrot and mustard crush” picked me up, spun me around, filled my head, heart and stomach with the drug of delight. Happiness!
Seek and ye shall find! Friends, you must remember that every dining experience is a very personal, individual one and you can make of it what you will. I strive to extract every last drop of excellence from my glass and every taste and tickle of fancy from my plate. Sometimes poor service or less than the best ingredients will get in the way of this but never at Cook n With Gas.
This is not the first time I’ve slipped in through the doors of CWG and it won’t be the last. After all, the proof of the pudding.......
This establishment is a “bistro de brilliance” with a strong focus on delivering consistently good fare to customers ranging from the well-informed food tourist to the discerning, multi-visit local . There is a sense that you are in the hands of a well managed, close-knit team when you dine at this restaurant and this intimacy more often than not provides the guest with a very satisfying experience. Notwithstanding this, there is almost a deliberate drive to appear as casual as possible, a deliberate separation from fine dining by the uncoordinated approaches of the wait staff, the occasional slip in service. A bistro, after all.
A drink while settling in and absorbing the captivating blend of Victoriana and 1920s poster art is a fine idea indeed. The wine list is smooth and offers commendable style coverage with a strong range of by the bottle as well as by the glass.
An aromatic drop of Chateau de Sours, a Bordeaux red that will wrap you protectively in its antioxidants, smother you with kindness and get your lips a tremblin’ with excitement may be just the titivating start to your evening that you need. It was for me!
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! These were my mental words as the Chicken Waterzooi soup was ladled into the bowl before me, its lush, lavish ingredients buoyant and beckoning. The menu describes this unusually named dish as “piping hot soup served over poached chicken, olive and thyme tortellini & autumn vegetables finished with parsley, garlic and cream.” This was no thick & viscous hot & bubbling pool; more of a
carefully choreographed celebration of quality ingredients commingling in a relaxed pond of natural, ambrosial goodness.
The lamb, the pork, the duck and even the vegetarian dish looked fit and proper for my dinner on this night but I could not stop myself from once again prostrating myself before the altar of bovinity; the soulful mooing of the Hallmark Beef offered the gallop of joy I was in search of, its “prime medium-rare fillet with bearnaise and grilled rump stuffed with peppers and spring onion on bacon, cheddar gratin with courgettes, carrot and mustard crush” picked me up, spun me around, filled my head, heart and stomach with the drug of delight. Happiness!
Seek and ye shall find! Friends, you must remember that every dining experience is a very personal, individual one and you can make of it what you will. I strive to extract every last drop of excellence from my glass and every taste and tickle of fancy from my plate. Sometimes poor service or less than the best ingredients will get in the way of this but never at Cook n With Gas.
This is not the first time I’ve slipped in through the doors of CWG and it won’t be the last. After all, the proof of the pudding.......
Tuesday 10 April 2012
Freemans Dining Room - Lyttelton
One of my favourite places, Lyttelton, has been thoroughly pessundated by the earth’s seismic rumblings over the past 17 months and many places of culinary worship have disappeared in clouds of dust.
All is not lost, however, as fortunately for us Freemans Dining Room has reopened in its original building, one of the few character structures to survive. Once again, those of us who are excited at quality, comforted by good service and gratified by welcoming surroundings can be assured of the very best of South Island hospitality at the hands of Sarah & Nick Freeman.
With an emerging world-wide trend this year away from the complex yet alluring trickery of molecular gastronomy, those restaurants whose forte revolves around established provenance of locally-sourced ingredients, unashamed simplicity & elegance of presentation and a passion and respect for customers will soar on the uplifting winds of success.
Basking in warm sunshine on Freeman’s famous harbour view deck was an ideal place to enjoy the bursts of joy a chilled glass of Clos Marguerite Sauv Blanc offered with it’s fresh aromas, genuine Marlborough flavours and nuances of stonefruit. The Grilled Squid with chilli and mint salsa was so fitting in a seaside location and worked beautifully with the wine and the sensation of the gentle but invigorating breeze that quietly swept across and between the tables. The chilli and mint splashed about on the canvas of my palate, the crunchy, pale, grilled squid adding its pleasurable touch of body and soul . Tres Bon!
The Freeman’s menus always seem to have good old fashioned Cumberland Sausages and I was ready for these with mash, green beans and onion gravy. Basic fare by no means as each of the four essential components of this dish spoke with a steady confidence, offering those long-standing, much-loved fundamentals as straight-up, simple flavours, honest tastes of clean freshness and tantalizing aromas from the sausages, the beans and the onion gravy. A more than pleasing textural interplay added to my enjoyment with a further delightful accelerant , a glass of Lagaria Merlot, a strapping Sicilian native with all the required features. To quote Psalm 104:15, “Wine Maketh Glad the Heart of Man.”
The coffee is good at this place too. A fine end to an uplifting lunch.
All is not lost, however, as fortunately for us Freemans Dining Room has reopened in its original building, one of the few character structures to survive. Once again, those of us who are excited at quality, comforted by good service and gratified by welcoming surroundings can be assured of the very best of South Island hospitality at the hands of Sarah & Nick Freeman.
With an emerging world-wide trend this year away from the complex yet alluring trickery of molecular gastronomy, those restaurants whose forte revolves around established provenance of locally-sourced ingredients, unashamed simplicity & elegance of presentation and a passion and respect for customers will soar on the uplifting winds of success.
Basking in warm sunshine on Freeman’s famous harbour view deck was an ideal place to enjoy the bursts of joy a chilled glass of Clos Marguerite Sauv Blanc offered with it’s fresh aromas, genuine Marlborough flavours and nuances of stonefruit. The Grilled Squid with chilli and mint salsa was so fitting in a seaside location and worked beautifully with the wine and the sensation of the gentle but invigorating breeze that quietly swept across and between the tables. The chilli and mint splashed about on the canvas of my palate, the crunchy, pale, grilled squid adding its pleasurable touch of body and soul . Tres Bon!
The Freeman’s menus always seem to have good old fashioned Cumberland Sausages and I was ready for these with mash, green beans and onion gravy. Basic fare by no means as each of the four essential components of this dish spoke with a steady confidence, offering those long-standing, much-loved fundamentals as straight-up, simple flavours, honest tastes of clean freshness and tantalizing aromas from the sausages, the beans and the onion gravy. A more than pleasing textural interplay added to my enjoyment with a further delightful accelerant , a glass of Lagaria Merlot, a strapping Sicilian native with all the required features. To quote Psalm 104:15, “Wine Maketh Glad the Heart of Man.”
The coffee is good at this place too. A fine end to an uplifting lunch.
El Celler de can Roca - Girone (Shortened Version)
To begin, scene-setting glasses of perfectly chilled Albet Noya Cava, fun to drink and bubbling with a special Spanish frivolity, Caramalised Olives hanging from a live bonsai-sized olive tree and tiny, sculptured Mushrooms Bombon bombarding the palate with ‘smashing’ explosions of tingling flavour.
Minutes later Veuve Clicquot to cope with the welcome sting of Anchovy Bones, Ring Calamar Adaptation, Green Salad and St George’s Mushroom Truffled Brioche. Delicate plates of passion offering glimpses of a masterful, grand cuisine.
A 2003 Renard Valmur Chablis, a 2008 Stephane Tissot Savagnin Arbois, Cherries, Elderberry & Smoked Eel, succulent, ethereal, everlasting….
Then the Charcoal-Grilled King Prawn with Acidulated Mushroom Juice materialised. In tender repose but with the mantle of unmistakable dignity the solitary decapod crustacean patiently awaited its final journey, carried off in an aromatic bath – a 2009 Nelin from Priorat. Another magnificent Roca Brother’s match.
We boldly toasted our good fortune with a Vina Tondonia Rosado from Rioja, a worthy blend of Tempranillo, Garnacho and Viura. The Onion Soup, Crespia Wans and Comte Cheese was love at first sight holding us paralysed with delight. The Sole, Olive Oil and Mediterranean Flavours proffered a sensuous necklace of five sauces each jostling for prominence, and a perfectly grilled fillet of fish. Unsurpassed excellence.
A sweet and luscious interlude with the Oloroso del Puerto Almacenista was a fitting fanfaronade to a frothy, smoky bath of Baby Squid with Onion rocks and Catalan Seafood Stew. Behold the Spiritus sanctus!
The ‘piece-de-resistance’ just had to be Joan Roca’s careful and composed, strikingly imaginative Steak Tartare with Mustard Ice Cream. A Santa’s sleigh of gastronomic terroir, impeccably adorned with droplets of mustard ice cream, mustard leaves, smoked paprika, curry, pickles, lemon and more. There were no dramatic heavenly thunderclaps or bolts of lightning striking the tines of my fork as I savoured every moment of this Bugatti Veyron experience, but the earth moved for me.
Joan’s Lamb with Peach Terrine scored top points for style, taste, and a beautiful sense of composure. Accompanied by a smooth glass of Anima Negra from Mallorca with its dark, ruby colour, rich cherry nuances and strong finish, the lamb, with its beautiful accompaniments was worthy of the highest praise. In the same pasture as the ovine came Green Colourology a polka dot collage of delicious, globulous verdancies and gelatinous translucences embodied in eucalyptus ice cream. Pure art.
A chilled Grans Fassian Kabinett rolled in the grass merrily with the elegant and suave Lemon Distillated Sorbet, quickly pursued by an Emrich-Schlonleber Halenberg Spatlese and Vanilla, Caramel, Liquorice, Dried and Caramelised Black Olives, a ‘rough’ filigree-topped dessert of robust definition and skillfully jumbled taste sensations.
Mi sincero da las gracias y la gratitud a los hermanos de Roca para una excelente tarde de cenar de multa y servicio impeccable – Mr Lu
Minutes later Veuve Clicquot to cope with the welcome sting of Anchovy Bones, Ring Calamar Adaptation, Green Salad and St George’s Mushroom Truffled Brioche. Delicate plates of passion offering glimpses of a masterful, grand cuisine.
A 2003 Renard Valmur Chablis, a 2008 Stephane Tissot Savagnin Arbois, Cherries, Elderberry & Smoked Eel, succulent, ethereal, everlasting….
Then the Charcoal-Grilled King Prawn with Acidulated Mushroom Juice materialised. In tender repose but with the mantle of unmistakable dignity the solitary decapod crustacean patiently awaited its final journey, carried off in an aromatic bath – a 2009 Nelin from Priorat. Another magnificent Roca Brother’s match.
We boldly toasted our good fortune with a Vina Tondonia Rosado from Rioja, a worthy blend of Tempranillo, Garnacho and Viura. The Onion Soup, Crespia Wans and Comte Cheese was love at first sight holding us paralysed with delight. The Sole, Olive Oil and Mediterranean Flavours proffered a sensuous necklace of five sauces each jostling for prominence, and a perfectly grilled fillet of fish. Unsurpassed excellence.
A sweet and luscious interlude with the Oloroso del Puerto Almacenista was a fitting fanfaronade to a frothy, smoky bath of Baby Squid with Onion rocks and Catalan Seafood Stew. Behold the Spiritus sanctus!
The ‘piece-de-resistance’ just had to be Joan Roca’s careful and composed, strikingly imaginative Steak Tartare with Mustard Ice Cream. A Santa’s sleigh of gastronomic terroir, impeccably adorned with droplets of mustard ice cream, mustard leaves, smoked paprika, curry, pickles, lemon and more. There were no dramatic heavenly thunderclaps or bolts of lightning striking the tines of my fork as I savoured every moment of this Bugatti Veyron experience, but the earth moved for me.
Joan’s Lamb with Peach Terrine scored top points for style, taste, and a beautiful sense of composure. Accompanied by a smooth glass of Anima Negra from Mallorca with its dark, ruby colour, rich cherry nuances and strong finish, the lamb, with its beautiful accompaniments was worthy of the highest praise. In the same pasture as the ovine came Green Colourology a polka dot collage of delicious, globulous verdancies and gelatinous translucences embodied in eucalyptus ice cream. Pure art.
A chilled Grans Fassian Kabinett rolled in the grass merrily with the elegant and suave Lemon Distillated Sorbet, quickly pursued by an Emrich-Schlonleber Halenberg Spatlese and Vanilla, Caramel, Liquorice, Dried and Caramelised Black Olives, a ‘rough’ filigree-topped dessert of robust definition and skillfully jumbled taste sensations.
Mi sincero da las gracias y la gratitud a los hermanos de Roca para una excelente tarde de cenar de multa y servicio impeccable – Mr Lu
Clink - Sumner
The thought of the primordial rite of touching or clinking of drinking vessels in wassail coupled with rumours of better than average food had me dreaming of a long and relaxed evening of sophisticated fletcherizing with a group of very fine friends at Sumner’s newest restaurant, Clink. After all, one should never be in a hurry when in the company of luminaries.
It’s not often I point my dear readers to a website but you are requested to view www.clinkbar.com where you will be treated to a fantastic story about the building in which the restaurant is now housed and the historical connection with current owner Rachael. Compelling stuff indeed!
Visitors to The Clink will find a conviviality not present when the building was home to mutineers in the late 18th Century. With an expected situational ambiance eminating from a Sumner village location and Banks Peninsula volcanic rock walls today’s diner at the Clink is a fortunate & much blessed soul in every sense.
With a respectable, clear but by no means lengthy menu, there is no excuse for shilly-shallying as your choices will be one of nine entrees, seven mains, seven sides and six desserts. My companions and I floated luxuriously in the blackberry and tannin offered freely in bottles of Katnook Cab Sauv from the Coonawarra, nibbled, dipped and dwelt on the ciabatta with olive oil and aged balsamic, kvetched about the political situations in far off lands and thoroughly and convincingly bemoaned the lack of Swedish masseurs in Tata Beach in January.
The delicate, tender moments derived from the superexquisiteness of a second entrée comprised of rare beef, smokey tomato, basil and chilli relish ensured lasting, ambrosial memories of the very best kind.
A further strong sense of carnivorous satisfaction overcame me once a fine portion of chargrilled Hereford ribeye arrived arm in arm with a soft & sensuous rocket mash , caramalised onion and syrah syrup. Add a side dish of duck fat roasted potatoes and another of green beans, toasted almond gravel, parsley and lemon and you will understand the meaning of blissful repleteness. Chef Rob Hope played well with the ingredients, created a meaningful commingling of tastes, flavours and textures in my, the diner’s, best interests and in a successful attempt to deliver excellence.
Turning my back on Frangipani tart with pears and cream, instead I favoured chunks and slices of Pecorino Romano, Kapiti Kikorangi Blue and Whitestone Brie in final homage to Clink Restaurant, its carceral heritage and its modern-day reinvention as one of Sumner’s most agreeable dining destinations.
It’s not often I point my dear readers to a website but you are requested to view www.clinkbar.com where you will be treated to a fantastic story about the building in which the restaurant is now housed and the historical connection with current owner Rachael. Compelling stuff indeed!
Visitors to The Clink will find a conviviality not present when the building was home to mutineers in the late 18th Century. With an expected situational ambiance eminating from a Sumner village location and Banks Peninsula volcanic rock walls today’s diner at the Clink is a fortunate & much blessed soul in every sense.
With a respectable, clear but by no means lengthy menu, there is no excuse for shilly-shallying as your choices will be one of nine entrees, seven mains, seven sides and six desserts. My companions and I floated luxuriously in the blackberry and tannin offered freely in bottles of Katnook Cab Sauv from the Coonawarra, nibbled, dipped and dwelt on the ciabatta with olive oil and aged balsamic, kvetched about the political situations in far off lands and thoroughly and convincingly bemoaned the lack of Swedish masseurs in Tata Beach in January.
The delicate, tender moments derived from the superexquisiteness of a second entrée comprised of rare beef, smokey tomato, basil and chilli relish ensured lasting, ambrosial memories of the very best kind.
A further strong sense of carnivorous satisfaction overcame me once a fine portion of chargrilled Hereford ribeye arrived arm in arm with a soft & sensuous rocket mash , caramalised onion and syrah syrup. Add a side dish of duck fat roasted potatoes and another of green beans, toasted almond gravel, parsley and lemon and you will understand the meaning of blissful repleteness. Chef Rob Hope played well with the ingredients, created a meaningful commingling of tastes, flavours and textures in my, the diner’s, best interests and in a successful attempt to deliver excellence.
Turning my back on Frangipani tart with pears and cream, instead I favoured chunks and slices of Pecorino Romano, Kapiti Kikorangi Blue and Whitestone Brie in final homage to Clink Restaurant, its carceral heritage and its modern-day reinvention as one of Sumner’s most agreeable dining destinations.
Boulcott St Bistro - Wellington
A pretty girl, a fine restaurant and a drop or two of quality wine makes for a memorable occasion, wouldn’t you agree? I had bolted through the arrival gates at Wellington airport off the first flight out of Christchurch and whilst I had a frenetic day of serious business engagements I wanted to eat and drink my way through the day in between these encounters. It’s amazing what you can achieve if you set your mind to it!
The Boulcott Street Bistro & Winebar is an intimate beast with exquisitely set tables, polished service and memorable fare. My lunch partner, a mere slip of a girl who was a veritable intellectual, multilingual powerhouse destined for great things in the international professional arena in her field, took time out from her busy schedule to enjoy my company.
For a central city location and a restaurant of Boulcott’s eminence the prices are more than fair. At the time of my visit ‘Wellington on a Plate’ was running and it was possible to enjoy two courses and a glass of Domaine de la Terrace Martinborough Pinot Gris for $35.00. As attractive an offer as this was we chose to dine a la carte.
For me it was a fine serving of Karengo Hot-smoked Southland Salmon with Potato and Watercress Salad to begin; presented on the plate with considerable artistry, the interplay between the green of the watercress, the pink hues of the beautiful salmon, the dark, fluid buttons of balsamic & the pearly whiteness of the generous plate much tantalized me before the first bite was taken. Every bit a star.
A main of Braised Lamb Shank, potato mash, lentil sauce & minted peas, said to be one of this restaurant’s classic dishes, didn’t disappoint in any way. Cooked with a precise confidence and with the customer’s tastebuds in mind the lamb was faultless, the lentil sauce a delightful addition offering a different texture to massage the mouth and prolong the joyfulness of the moment. I was delighted to see broccoli available as a side dish and so a well-stacked plate of Steamed broccoli with toasted almond polonaise not only satisfied my palate but gladdened my heart. I could have enjoyed this on its own…
Exercising outstanding restraint I restricted myself to one glass of Jim Barry Cab Sauv during this meal but followed it up at the end of proceedings with a $5.75 long black…….after all I needed all my wits about me for the afternoon’s meetings.
Lunch for two: Just over $170.00
The Boulcott Street Bistro & Winebar is an intimate beast with exquisitely set tables, polished service and memorable fare. My lunch partner, a mere slip of a girl who was a veritable intellectual, multilingual powerhouse destined for great things in the international professional arena in her field, took time out from her busy schedule to enjoy my company.
For a central city location and a restaurant of Boulcott’s eminence the prices are more than fair. At the time of my visit ‘Wellington on a Plate’ was running and it was possible to enjoy two courses and a glass of Domaine de la Terrace Martinborough Pinot Gris for $35.00. As attractive an offer as this was we chose to dine a la carte.
For me it was a fine serving of Karengo Hot-smoked Southland Salmon with Potato and Watercress Salad to begin; presented on the plate with considerable artistry, the interplay between the green of the watercress, the pink hues of the beautiful salmon, the dark, fluid buttons of balsamic & the pearly whiteness of the generous plate much tantalized me before the first bite was taken. Every bit a star.
A main of Braised Lamb Shank, potato mash, lentil sauce & minted peas, said to be one of this restaurant’s classic dishes, didn’t disappoint in any way. Cooked with a precise confidence and with the customer’s tastebuds in mind the lamb was faultless, the lentil sauce a delightful addition offering a different texture to massage the mouth and prolong the joyfulness of the moment. I was delighted to see broccoli available as a side dish and so a well-stacked plate of Steamed broccoli with toasted almond polonaise not only satisfied my palate but gladdened my heart. I could have enjoyed this on its own…
Exercising outstanding restraint I restricted myself to one glass of Jim Barry Cab Sauv during this meal but followed it up at the end of proceedings with a $5.75 long black…….after all I needed all my wits about me for the afternoon’s meetings.
Lunch for two: Just over $170.00
Bordeaux Restaurant - Rangiora
The perspicacious of you will already have discovered Bordeaux Restaurant in Rangiora. For the rest please rise from your desperate procumbency, pretend you’re on the TGV from Avignon to Paris and get yourself to this charming North Canterbury village to enjoy a white gloved evening of polish, an excellent, somewhat comprehensive selection of local and international wines & skillfully prepared, well presented French-style fare.
What’s more you will enjoy all of this in what I can only describe as quaint, nineteenth century surroundings exuding a quiet, ordered, mesmeric charm.
We were a small but animated group looking for something more than mere bouffage and a quick scan of the menu confirmed we had come to the right place. An amuse-bouche of roast beetroot, feta & balsamic with a hint of strawberry and a crumbling of walnut caressed our palates before the arrival of a perfectly sensational, pretty pastiche of puff pastry, French Blue cheese, poached pear and roasted walnut roquette leaf. This dish, entitled Millefeuille au Roquefort set the stage and the standard for the courses to follow. We were nothing less than delighted.
My companions basked with satisfaction in the glow of a simple but succulent “Duck a l’orange” . My place was dominated by the “Angus Beef Fillet poivre vert” – seared angus beef fillet with green peppercorn & mushroom sauce presented with truffled pommes. A rare treat indeed, in more ways than one! My eyes fluttered over the glorious bounty as I soliloquized with a sort of fiery, ecstatic abandon, in expectation of plenty. The soft mystery of texture, the fullness of flavour , the unmistakable, earthy bovinity and the prolonged, lasting lushness gave spirited wings to my already soaring delight and gratitude. The chef had clearly excelled in his craft this evening.
With just three desserts to choose from, Profiteroles with Vanilla Ice cream, Crème Brulee or Apple Tarte Tatin there was little chance of even this writer getting muddled. The profiteroles won out and what an outstanding choux treat, tendered on a plate in such a way as to cajole and entice, oh so very, very nice. Caterina de' Medici, wife of Henry II of France would have been secretly proud of my worship of these visually seductive, softly sensual and highly mischievous waistline saboteurs. And so it was written…..
What’s more you will enjoy all of this in what I can only describe as quaint, nineteenth century surroundings exuding a quiet, ordered, mesmeric charm.
We were a small but animated group looking for something more than mere bouffage and a quick scan of the menu confirmed we had come to the right place. An amuse-bouche of roast beetroot, feta & balsamic with a hint of strawberry and a crumbling of walnut caressed our palates before the arrival of a perfectly sensational, pretty pastiche of puff pastry, French Blue cheese, poached pear and roasted walnut roquette leaf. This dish, entitled Millefeuille au Roquefort set the stage and the standard for the courses to follow. We were nothing less than delighted.
My companions basked with satisfaction in the glow of a simple but succulent “Duck a l’orange” . My place was dominated by the “Angus Beef Fillet poivre vert” – seared angus beef fillet with green peppercorn & mushroom sauce presented with truffled pommes. A rare treat indeed, in more ways than one! My eyes fluttered over the glorious bounty as I soliloquized with a sort of fiery, ecstatic abandon, in expectation of plenty. The soft mystery of texture, the fullness of flavour , the unmistakable, earthy bovinity and the prolonged, lasting lushness gave spirited wings to my already soaring delight and gratitude. The chef had clearly excelled in his craft this evening.
With just three desserts to choose from, Profiteroles with Vanilla Ice cream, Crème Brulee or Apple Tarte Tatin there was little chance of even this writer getting muddled. The profiteroles won out and what an outstanding choux treat, tendered on a plate in such a way as to cajole and entice, oh so very, very nice. Caterina de' Medici, wife of Henry II of France would have been secretly proud of my worship of these visually seductive, softly sensual and highly mischievous waistline saboteurs. And so it was written…..
Underground Sumner
You don’t necessarily have to go to the seaside to enjoy a good coffee but such a fine thing can be easily had at Underground Sumner. Basking in the early autumn afternoon sun I cherished yet another espresso, consistently well executed and strong enough to do its ‘druggish’ darnedest to provide that kick those of us dependent on caffeine so earnestly seek at these coffee houses.
Choose a table on the terrace or a beanbag under a tree on one of the raised decks, watch the beautiful and the not so beautiful wandering by, cast your eyes up the strangely bucolic Richmond Hill valley, its captivating absence of buildings on the slopes visible from the cafe and its summery leonine colourings offering you a passing glimpse of tranquillity.
Underground’s cabinets are full of crafted cakes, small & quirky quiches, rumble tumble rolls and a salad or two. More options are to be had from the breakfast and lunch menu. Fancy eggs Benedict with salmon? Or a bowl of muesli perhaps?
A big, chewy bagel filled with the soft flesh of salmon, a layer of brie, a slice of tomato and a sliver of capsicum was enough to hastily dispatch my rumbling stomach. What could I do but stay for yet another blast of that old dog caffeine? You can be assured of a convivial atmosphere as this is a very popular cafe, equally satisfactory for a quick and easy light lunch, coffee break or business meeting or, if time permits, a long and lingering lazy Sunday brunch.
Choose a table on the terrace or a beanbag under a tree on one of the raised decks, watch the beautiful and the not so beautiful wandering by, cast your eyes up the strangely bucolic Richmond Hill valley, its captivating absence of buildings on the slopes visible from the cafe and its summery leonine colourings offering you a passing glimpse of tranquillity.
Underground’s cabinets are full of crafted cakes, small & quirky quiches, rumble tumble rolls and a salad or two. More options are to be had from the breakfast and lunch menu. Fancy eggs Benedict with salmon? Or a bowl of muesli perhaps?
A big, chewy bagel filled with the soft flesh of salmon, a layer of brie, a slice of tomato and a sliver of capsicum was enough to hastily dispatch my rumbling stomach. What could I do but stay for yet another blast of that old dog caffeine? You can be assured of a convivial atmosphere as this is a very popular cafe, equally satisfactory for a quick and easy light lunch, coffee break or business meeting or, if time permits, a long and lingering lazy Sunday brunch.
Divan Cafe - Auckland
I cannot imagine how many of the 365 breakfasts I eat each year are inspirational, original culinary fascinations; what I do know, however, is that I too often succumb to conventional everyday fare when travelling within this most excellent country of ours. For example, last week in Auckland I chanced upon the Divan House Cafe, not because I knew of its downtown provenance and established reputation amongst the local 9 to 5ers but because I espied the tables along the side of a Melbournesque-like alleyway off Queen St. The setting looked so charming and a good 75% of the tables were occupied by all manner of interesting creatures. Of course it would be fun to tell you they were aliens from another planet or zombies about to swarm out into the city but in reality they were just lovely Aucklanders......
Atmosphere is what you get in this almost secretive, narrow, dead-end alleyway, but a stone’s throw from the waterfront. The setting had an almost instantaneous hypnotic effect on me and I plonked my hungry carcass down, lusting after blood...oops, coffee actually.
The uniformed waiter was prompt and courteous, my espresso arriving within minutes and an order of eggs Benedict with smoked salmon($17.00) soon after. The food was ample, the flavours predictable but great nonetheless, a smooth hollandaise, not too little, not too much, eggs cooked to my satisfaction – no runny egg white ‘bits’ – and the whole was ever so well presented. A strikingly succulent, grilled half tomato on the side, just the right amount of salmon to add its textural beauty on the plate (and the palate!), a very clean plate, the richness of the sauce, the strength of the bacon. I can see myself returning for another breakfast next week when the City of Sails has to cope with me for another day....
Atmosphere is what you get in this almost secretive, narrow, dead-end alleyway, but a stone’s throw from the waterfront. The setting had an almost instantaneous hypnotic effect on me and I plonked my hungry carcass down, lusting after blood...oops, coffee actually.
The uniformed waiter was prompt and courteous, my espresso arriving within minutes and an order of eggs Benedict with smoked salmon($17.00) soon after. The food was ample, the flavours predictable but great nonetheless, a smooth hollandaise, not too little, not too much, eggs cooked to my satisfaction – no runny egg white ‘bits’ – and the whole was ever so well presented. A strikingly succulent, grilled half tomato on the side, just the right amount of salmon to add its textural beauty on the plate (and the palate!), a very clean plate, the richness of the sauce, the strength of the bacon. I can see myself returning for another breakfast next week when the City of Sails has to cope with me for another day....
Melton Estate Vineyard
Melton Estate Vineyard Restaurant enjoys a beautiful setting, looking out across lush and healthy plantings of vines to the west and a well landscaped, attractive outdoor dining and entertaining area to the south. Traditionally, this has been a conference and wedding venue and one has to wonder, in the light of the spanking given to it by the previous reviewer Spandex and others before him/her, whether this establishment hasn’t yet quite got the lunch thing fully sorted.
My experience was in fact in the evening and I was one of a group of approximately 40 people lucky enough to find themselves at this capacious, airy venue just about the time the sun was slipping across the Southern Alps to the west. The magical,creeping crepuscular rays of fragile sunshine danced soulfully and silently across the highly polished timber floor, casting long shadows & setting an unforgettable scene of splendid, warm quietude.
There was pinot noir, pinot gris, sauvignon blanc and other wines available as we mingled pre-dinner. As four tables of 10 we embarked on a three course set menu featuring a reasonable selection including entrees like Smoked chicken salad, Baby scallops, Soup or Bruschetta. Mains included Akaroa Salmon, Chicken, Pork, Lamb and Beef options so all bases covered there.
Given the numbers in our group I’m satisfied that the service was fine in terms of the time taken for the food to emerge from the kitchen and, without doubt, the waiters and waitresses all performed well within my expectations for such an event as far as friendliness and efficiency are concerned.
The Baby Scallops were a Peruvian import and enjoyed an accompaniment of citrus vinaigrette and salad greens, all a jumble on the plate. I was disappointed with the presentation and the scallops were less than inspiring. Of course it must be remembered that we in New Zealand are spoilt with our own exceptional scallops.....freshly dredged from off Tata Beach for instance.
Chef Angela Morrison did a sterling job of coping with the numbers and offering a choice of five mains. Looking around my own table it was clear that all five dishes were being called for. My grilled Beef Fillet was presented with fresh, crisp vegetables including favourites of mine, cauliflower and broccoli, beans and carrots. Add a side pottle of tomato kasundi to both appease our Indian visitors and proffer a rimbombo of spicy delight and you have a somewhat successful creation appreciated by those lucky diners who chose it on the night.
Desserts are not something I crave for but those who had the Sticky Date and Apricot Pudding gave it the thumbs up as they chomped their way through the mounds, slurping gently at the caramel sauce and slowly melting vanilla ice cream. I must admit I did drool ever so slightly...
There’s certainly some potential to deliver great quality coupled with more than creditable service in terrific surroundings but I would want to dine for lunch before making any conclusive determinations.
My experience was in fact in the evening and I was one of a group of approximately 40 people lucky enough to find themselves at this capacious, airy venue just about the time the sun was slipping across the Southern Alps to the west. The magical,creeping crepuscular rays of fragile sunshine danced soulfully and silently across the highly polished timber floor, casting long shadows & setting an unforgettable scene of splendid, warm quietude.
There was pinot noir, pinot gris, sauvignon blanc and other wines available as we mingled pre-dinner. As four tables of 10 we embarked on a three course set menu featuring a reasonable selection including entrees like Smoked chicken salad, Baby scallops, Soup or Bruschetta. Mains included Akaroa Salmon, Chicken, Pork, Lamb and Beef options so all bases covered there.
Given the numbers in our group I’m satisfied that the service was fine in terms of the time taken for the food to emerge from the kitchen and, without doubt, the waiters and waitresses all performed well within my expectations for such an event as far as friendliness and efficiency are concerned.
The Baby Scallops were a Peruvian import and enjoyed an accompaniment of citrus vinaigrette and salad greens, all a jumble on the plate. I was disappointed with the presentation and the scallops were less than inspiring. Of course it must be remembered that we in New Zealand are spoilt with our own exceptional scallops.....freshly dredged from off Tata Beach for instance.
Chef Angela Morrison did a sterling job of coping with the numbers and offering a choice of five mains. Looking around my own table it was clear that all five dishes were being called for. My grilled Beef Fillet was presented with fresh, crisp vegetables including favourites of mine, cauliflower and broccoli, beans and carrots. Add a side pottle of tomato kasundi to both appease our Indian visitors and proffer a rimbombo of spicy delight and you have a somewhat successful creation appreciated by those lucky diners who chose it on the night.
Desserts are not something I crave for but those who had the Sticky Date and Apricot Pudding gave it the thumbs up as they chomped their way through the mounds, slurping gently at the caramel sauce and slowly melting vanilla ice cream. I must admit I did drool ever so slightly...
There’s certainly some potential to deliver great quality coupled with more than creditable service in terrific surroundings but I would want to dine for lunch before making any conclusive determinations.
Strawberry Fare
As an unapologetic follower of food, fashion and the great fantasies of life,(I discovered the fountain of Youth years ago) it is with palpable delight that I herald the arrival of each new restaurant on the scene. Furthermore, let it be known that I am ever so happily roused from my normally sluggish state at the prospect of visiting reincarnations of restaurants closed after the earthquakes. New venues, new people(sometimes), new menu(often) but invariably a retention of the fundamental essence of what made the original good...or not so good. The core of training and expertise, culinary philosophy and style so often shines through in the rebirth.
And so it was that I found myself entertaining a beautiful woman one weekday lunchtime in the grand upstairs chamber with its high, steep, sloping ceilings, expansive vista across bustling Bealey Avenue to the vast and verdant Hagley Park beyond.
Service throughout our lunch was friendly, casual and perfectly fine for the occasion. Whilst the sexagenarians at a neighbouring table were enjoying a bottle of Moet we satisfied ourselves with, as surprised as you may be, glasses of chilled tap water, a deliberate and unmitigated expression of confidence in the state of this city’s water supply!
Notwithstanding anything alluded to above, Strawberry Fare when in Peterborough St had a reputation of mere mediocrity but, as they say, one lives in hope. Here in Bealey Ave I was impressed that the King prawns hailed from India ( a great seafaring and seafood country) , the dish itself being titled Prawns Gremalata. The ciabatta bread was crisp, lightly toasted and eminently edible, the grilled prawns a delicious excursion into Indian Ocean crustacean heaven, with the squeezed lemon juice, parsley and garlic additives giving a resoundingly memorable voice to a flavoursome medley. The fresh, moist salad washed through my oesophagus with gentle, caring aplomb, leaving me pleasantly surprised, comfortably satisfied and for an overall main course investment of under $22, completely convinced that a return visit should be made.
As long as you keep your expectations at a reasonable, sensible level you won’t be disappointed.
And so it was that I found myself entertaining a beautiful woman one weekday lunchtime in the grand upstairs chamber with its high, steep, sloping ceilings, expansive vista across bustling Bealey Avenue to the vast and verdant Hagley Park beyond.
Service throughout our lunch was friendly, casual and perfectly fine for the occasion. Whilst the sexagenarians at a neighbouring table were enjoying a bottle of Moet we satisfied ourselves with, as surprised as you may be, glasses of chilled tap water, a deliberate and unmitigated expression of confidence in the state of this city’s water supply!
Notwithstanding anything alluded to above, Strawberry Fare when in Peterborough St had a reputation of mere mediocrity but, as they say, one lives in hope. Here in Bealey Ave I was impressed that the King prawns hailed from India ( a great seafaring and seafood country) , the dish itself being titled Prawns Gremalata. The ciabatta bread was crisp, lightly toasted and eminently edible, the grilled prawns a delicious excursion into Indian Ocean crustacean heaven, with the squeezed lemon juice, parsley and garlic additives giving a resoundingly memorable voice to a flavoursome medley. The fresh, moist salad washed through my oesophagus with gentle, caring aplomb, leaving me pleasantly surprised, comfortably satisfied and for an overall main course investment of under $22, completely convinced that a return visit should be made.
As long as you keep your expectations at a reasonable, sensible level you won’t be disappointed.
Capones Licensed Restaurant - Rangiora
The streets of Rangiora were deathly quiet, there were no signs of party-goers, prostitutes, pimps, prohibitionists, preachers or even Eliot Ness for that matter, but an air of excitement bubbled away inside us like a vigorously fermenting brew, a mix to match our hungry selves. Was this how Bonnie & Clyde felt before carrying out one of their legendary heists?
We were to dine at Capone’s, one of the towns established restaurants offering white linen tablecloths, genuine serviettes and just that little bit of spit and polish so often yearned for in these uber-casual times, notwithstanding the presence of a couple of weapons of instant demise adorning the walls....Thompson submachine guns perhaps? Whilst this corner of mainland utopia might not be known for cutting edge, spectacular cuisine the hope always is that access to the hinterland’s fresh produce, meat and other edibles would lead to more than a modicum of sensational fare on the plate.
A bottle of Grant Burge cab sauv offered up its sound body of complexity to our expectant palates, its beautiful colouring, abundant blackberry and dark fruit bouquet playing a soothing melody to our willing souls, the still developing tannins and almighty panacean qualities of the cab sauv style aiding and abetting our enjoyment with a natural benevolence.
What better way to follow such a pleasant priming of my gastro engine than to throw myself upon the mercy of a medium-rare beef fillet with a honey mustard vinaigrette all atop a warm vegetable salad and bacon & herb mash? The steak emerged looking as alluring as ever but my initial excitement was irrepressively dampened somewhat on discovering a piece of fillet far from the medium-rare ordered. A $37.00 main needs to be prepared and delivered to the diner in accordance with the diner’s wishes. It is not often I encounter an incorrectly cooked steak in a restaurant, especially on a Saturday night when the master of the kitchen should be at work doing his thing. This was decidedly medium! Did Al Capone feel so crestfallen on being arrested in 1931?
We were to dine at Capone’s, one of the towns established restaurants offering white linen tablecloths, genuine serviettes and just that little bit of spit and polish so often yearned for in these uber-casual times, notwithstanding the presence of a couple of weapons of instant demise adorning the walls....Thompson submachine guns perhaps? Whilst this corner of mainland utopia might not be known for cutting edge, spectacular cuisine the hope always is that access to the hinterland’s fresh produce, meat and other edibles would lead to more than a modicum of sensational fare on the plate.
A bottle of Grant Burge cab sauv offered up its sound body of complexity to our expectant palates, its beautiful colouring, abundant blackberry and dark fruit bouquet playing a soothing melody to our willing souls, the still developing tannins and almighty panacean qualities of the cab sauv style aiding and abetting our enjoyment with a natural benevolence.
What better way to follow such a pleasant priming of my gastro engine than to throw myself upon the mercy of a medium-rare beef fillet with a honey mustard vinaigrette all atop a warm vegetable salad and bacon & herb mash? The steak emerged looking as alluring as ever but my initial excitement was irrepressively dampened somewhat on discovering a piece of fillet far from the medium-rare ordered. A $37.00 main needs to be prepared and delivered to the diner in accordance with the diner’s wishes. It is not often I encounter an incorrectly cooked steak in a restaurant, especially on a Saturday night when the master of the kitchen should be at work doing his thing. This was decidedly medium! Did Al Capone feel so crestfallen on being arrested in 1931?
Addington Coffee Co Op
Addington Coffee Co-Op
It’s no secret that I rise before dawn every morning, ready, willing and able to do what must be done to serve my masters...and mistresses of course.
The day begins with a strong shot of espresso coffee to jolt the slumbered senses into action and shock the joints into the slow and steady motion that propels me in the general direction of the bathroom. The ablutions completed, I turn my now more active mind to matters of sustenance and do a quick mental scan of cafes and restaurants in my area that might be open and offering appealing fare. I am nothing less than a fanatic, it’s true!
No such luck on this particular morning, however, as I knew I had to embark on a trans-suburban expedition to an urban legend known as the Addington Coffee Co-op. Surprisingly, in the years that this barking hound of quality has been serving the masses I had not once stepped over it’s threshold. Bad old me!
Today was the day, in any case, to remedy past sins and so I elbowed my way in through the doors, past the mini Laundromat( mentally noting that I should have brought a full set of king sized sheets, pillowcases & duvet to run through whilst breakfasting)to join the formidable queue.
We’re all used to waiting in Christchurch these days so the 10 minute super-slow shuffle to the counter was a small inconvenience. In fact, it gave me time to survey the capacious room, the eclectic cross-section of Christchurchians, and others..and to choose my man-sized morsels of choice.
After weeks of exotic feasting throughout the country it was time to get back to basics and so the House Breakfast was my weapon of choice. I used it well to battle the mid morning pangs of Sunday hunger. Hungarian sausages from Peter Timms, rashes of middle bacon, outstandingly delicious poached eggs, potato hash and a small scoop of tangy chutney combined with a side of funky fungals – field mushrooms. Damn it man I was being spoilt in a fundamentally satisfying & special way.
The two cups of head-stomping coffee put lead back in my pencil, stoked my flagging boiler, revved up my idling engine and I was once more a born again dragon-slaying super human Lu-minary.
There’s no guarantee you’ll enjoy the same highs that I did at the Addington Coffee Co-op but until you go you’ll never know....
It’s no secret that I rise before dawn every morning, ready, willing and able to do what must be done to serve my masters...and mistresses of course.
The day begins with a strong shot of espresso coffee to jolt the slumbered senses into action and shock the joints into the slow and steady motion that propels me in the general direction of the bathroom. The ablutions completed, I turn my now more active mind to matters of sustenance and do a quick mental scan of cafes and restaurants in my area that might be open and offering appealing fare. I am nothing less than a fanatic, it’s true!
No such luck on this particular morning, however, as I knew I had to embark on a trans-suburban expedition to an urban legend known as the Addington Coffee Co-op. Surprisingly, in the years that this barking hound of quality has been serving the masses I had not once stepped over it’s threshold. Bad old me!
Today was the day, in any case, to remedy past sins and so I elbowed my way in through the doors, past the mini Laundromat( mentally noting that I should have brought a full set of king sized sheets, pillowcases & duvet to run through whilst breakfasting)to join the formidable queue.
We’re all used to waiting in Christchurch these days so the 10 minute super-slow shuffle to the counter was a small inconvenience. In fact, it gave me time to survey the capacious room, the eclectic cross-section of Christchurchians, and others..and to choose my man-sized morsels of choice.
After weeks of exotic feasting throughout the country it was time to get back to basics and so the House Breakfast was my weapon of choice. I used it well to battle the mid morning pangs of Sunday hunger. Hungarian sausages from Peter Timms, rashes of middle bacon, outstandingly delicious poached eggs, potato hash and a small scoop of tangy chutney combined with a side of funky fungals – field mushrooms. Damn it man I was being spoilt in a fundamentally satisfying & special way.
The two cups of head-stomping coffee put lead back in my pencil, stoked my flagging boiler, revved up my idling engine and I was once more a born again dragon-slaying super human Lu-minary.
There’s no guarantee you’ll enjoy the same highs that I did at the Addington Coffee Co-op but until you go you’ll never know....
The Jungle Cup
Instead of continuing north along Fitzgerald Avenue at the Kilmore St intersection I turned left toward the quiet, ghostliness of the central city. I was on my way from Sumner to Merivale and had heard of a little coffee stop on Madras St.
A right turn at Madras and, Voila! I was parked outside one of the city’s newest micro-cafes, The Jungle Cup on the corner of Salisbury and Madras.
The owners and operators of this portacom, plastic & paint pop-up are clearly looking ahead to the time when the builders and labourers will be grafting away in the immediate vicinity, hammering and banging, sawing and stapling their way from clock-on to morning tea, desperate for a cold drink, a coffee, a pie, sausage roll or even a salad and chips!
Let’s be perfectly honest with ourselves and concede that Christchurch is about to become the country’s biggest and busiest building site, with utes, trucks, vans and trailers cruising the streets, cranes criss-crossing the skyline and power tools of all shapes, sizes and kinds cutting through the tranquillity that now doth prevail. And so it must be if we are ever to move forward.....despite the efforts of EQC and many insurance companies to move slower than the pace of steam engines on their last legs.....
The Jungle Cup is perfectly placed to take advantage of the thirsty, hungry rush when it comes.
A smoked salmon bagel with a striking burst of bright orange carrot, glistening red tomato and a generous layering of luscious green was accompanied by a 4 bean salad, its slightly chilled self a delight on such a warm day. I sipped an Earl Grey tea in a paper cup underneath a green umbrella, contemplated the abstract artwork on the corrugated iron wall in front of me and nibbled at my daily bread. This seemed such a meditative space to be in, so unlike the city of old, so peaceful and uncomplicated - the simple, everyday fare altogether appropriate for the situation.
This little pit-stop might just be your cup of tea if you like gourmet sausage rolls (Moroccan Lamb for example), salads and/or interesting coffee-break cakes and slices. The venue is surely fascinating creativity on a tight budget but like everything in our ever-changing urban landscape, worth looking at on your way past.....
A right turn at Madras and, Voila! I was parked outside one of the city’s newest micro-cafes, The Jungle Cup on the corner of Salisbury and Madras.
The owners and operators of this portacom, plastic & paint pop-up are clearly looking ahead to the time when the builders and labourers will be grafting away in the immediate vicinity, hammering and banging, sawing and stapling their way from clock-on to morning tea, desperate for a cold drink, a coffee, a pie, sausage roll or even a salad and chips!
Let’s be perfectly honest with ourselves and concede that Christchurch is about to become the country’s biggest and busiest building site, with utes, trucks, vans and trailers cruising the streets, cranes criss-crossing the skyline and power tools of all shapes, sizes and kinds cutting through the tranquillity that now doth prevail. And so it must be if we are ever to move forward.....despite the efforts of EQC and many insurance companies to move slower than the pace of steam engines on their last legs.....
The Jungle Cup is perfectly placed to take advantage of the thirsty, hungry rush when it comes.
A smoked salmon bagel with a striking burst of bright orange carrot, glistening red tomato and a generous layering of luscious green was accompanied by a 4 bean salad, its slightly chilled self a delight on such a warm day. I sipped an Earl Grey tea in a paper cup underneath a green umbrella, contemplated the abstract artwork on the corrugated iron wall in front of me and nibbled at my daily bread. This seemed such a meditative space to be in, so unlike the city of old, so peaceful and uncomplicated - the simple, everyday fare altogether appropriate for the situation.
This little pit-stop might just be your cup of tea if you like gourmet sausage rolls (Moroccan Lamb for example), salads and/or interesting coffee-break cakes and slices. The venue is surely fascinating creativity on a tight budget but like everything in our ever-changing urban landscape, worth looking at on your way past.....
Upshot Coffee
The exhilarating, body-shaking aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans is a far cry from all those years ago when chicory essence was our staple drinking coffee ingredient! Stop your Draft horse and dray at 131 Bridle Path Rd in Heathcote, the area’s newest caffeine house, and inhale deeply. Feast your lusty eyes on the very quintessence of pop-up cafes, a rustic red shipping container, well fashioned to accommodate the necessary machinery, utensils and impliments entirely for your (the customer’s) satisfaction.
I neighed and whinnied like the horses in the adjoining riding school as I met the strong bolt of coffee head on and gobbled a steaming, fresh blueberry muffin which was remarkably similar in size to a Fiat Bambina. In fact, if you like muffins then this is the place for you as the menu consists in its entirety of, yes, you guessed it, muffins!
I just love the pioneering spirit that is manifested in makeshift al fresco cafe furniture, the creative use of old twentieth century wooden school desks, cable spools and far from perfect chairs. There’s something excitingly playful and endearing about it all; perhaps it makes the “going for a coffee” that much more interesting and memorable. The pop-up, junk recycle mentality has every potential to become an iconic Kiwi ‘invention’, a worldwide trend perhaps. Imagine a rough and ready pop-up container cafe in London or Paris. I could easily see such a thing becoming instantly fashionable. Enjoy its exclusivity here in Christchurch while you can and be assured that Upshot Coffee in Heathcote cuts to the very fundamental core of this outstanding, innovative new ‘style’. Believe it or not – you heard it here first!
I neighed and whinnied like the horses in the adjoining riding school as I met the strong bolt of coffee head on and gobbled a steaming, fresh blueberry muffin which was remarkably similar in size to a Fiat Bambina. In fact, if you like muffins then this is the place for you as the menu consists in its entirety of, yes, you guessed it, muffins!
I just love the pioneering spirit that is manifested in makeshift al fresco cafe furniture, the creative use of old twentieth century wooden school desks, cable spools and far from perfect chairs. There’s something excitingly playful and endearing about it all; perhaps it makes the “going for a coffee” that much more interesting and memorable. The pop-up, junk recycle mentality has every potential to become an iconic Kiwi ‘invention’, a worldwide trend perhaps. Imagine a rough and ready pop-up container cafe in London or Paris. I could easily see such a thing becoming instantly fashionable. Enjoy its exclusivity here in Christchurch while you can and be assured that Upshot Coffee in Heathcote cuts to the very fundamental core of this outstanding, innovative new ‘style’. Believe it or not – you heard it here first!
Botswana Butchery - Auckland Waterfront
They came and went in waves, surging along the Fullers ferry accessway before my very eyes. I was seated in pandiculated resplendence, infusing the best of Auckland’s waterside attractions, quietly people watching on a comfortable, elegant, cushion-cluttered couch. Of course, there was purpose in my seeming repose as I was a guest of this city’s newest gastronomic enterprise and was planning to eat, and eat well. The Botswana Butchery has gently seduced us all in recent years in Queenstown and Wanaka, always exhibiting sound touches of elegance, purveying exceptional quality in its exquisite produce and pandering to the tastebuds of discerning carnivores.
In the beautiful, bare-faced, deceitfully warm midday sun I felt I had the world at my fingertips as I sipped a glass of chilled Gibbston Valley Pinot Gris. In fact ‘The World’ was in port at the time and no more than 100 metres from where I was sitting, its well-heeled passengers(or should that be owners)sure to be occupying some of the tables inside the restaurant.
I had time to kill but my first dish, Sashimi of King Salmon. Hapuka Belly & Snapper with Wasabi, Soy Sauce and Pickled Ginger & Harissa sauce wasn’t long in arriving and presented as an effusive, kaleidoscopic burst of freshness, its brilliant natural colours complementing the succulent and satisfying slices from the sea. The pickled ginger & harissa sauce was full flavoured and pounced on the palate with each astounding, tingling, appetizing droplet.
My waiter Kieran, formerly from Aikmans in Christchurch, was well organised, efficient and amicable, at the ready with water refills and to satisfy my vinous demands. This faultless level of professionalism extended, I’m sure, to others in the Butchery’s employ as I was able to observe and hear the courteous and respectful interactions between the Maitre D’ and prospective diners at the nearby entrance.
A 450g ribeye on the bone from an establishment as well regarded as this must meet one’s expectations to 100%. Whilst I concede the cut was a superlative beast in anyone’s estimation, and certainly in mine, it was treated with less than its full respectful entitlement by being offered to me cooked beyond the requested rare to medium. This may well have been a teething problem as the restaurant had been open a mere seven days but cooking such a delicious piece of beef to perfection (or to the diner’s taste) is a non-negotiable matter, in my view. I do not cherish a medium+ treatment of fine meat but am, after all, a forgiving man who understands that running a restaurant is not an easy endeavour. Fortunately I had vicariously harvested grapes on Waiheke island at the Man O’ War winery and was drinking a glass or two of their fine syrah with its smooth, silky complexities and agreeably persuasive manner. I was happy enough......
There’s little doubt that many of us will have fond memories of the old Cin Cin on Quay dating back many years but the emergence of the Botswana Butchery on the same site and in the same premises is a move forward. I have every confidence that the BB will embed itself very quickly into the culinary psyche of Aucklanders and visitors to the city alike but they will need to be vigilant and must sweat the small stuff until all is 100%. Their reputation depends on it. I will return to feast again before the end of winter and I am truly hoping my steak is absolutely perfect. It’s non-negotiable.
In the beautiful, bare-faced, deceitfully warm midday sun I felt I had the world at my fingertips as I sipped a glass of chilled Gibbston Valley Pinot Gris. In fact ‘The World’ was in port at the time and no more than 100 metres from where I was sitting, its well-heeled passengers(or should that be owners)sure to be occupying some of the tables inside the restaurant.
I had time to kill but my first dish, Sashimi of King Salmon. Hapuka Belly & Snapper with Wasabi, Soy Sauce and Pickled Ginger & Harissa sauce wasn’t long in arriving and presented as an effusive, kaleidoscopic burst of freshness, its brilliant natural colours complementing the succulent and satisfying slices from the sea. The pickled ginger & harissa sauce was full flavoured and pounced on the palate with each astounding, tingling, appetizing droplet.
My waiter Kieran, formerly from Aikmans in Christchurch, was well organised, efficient and amicable, at the ready with water refills and to satisfy my vinous demands. This faultless level of professionalism extended, I’m sure, to others in the Butchery’s employ as I was able to observe and hear the courteous and respectful interactions between the Maitre D’ and prospective diners at the nearby entrance.
A 450g ribeye on the bone from an establishment as well regarded as this must meet one’s expectations to 100%. Whilst I concede the cut was a superlative beast in anyone’s estimation, and certainly in mine, it was treated with less than its full respectful entitlement by being offered to me cooked beyond the requested rare to medium. This may well have been a teething problem as the restaurant had been open a mere seven days but cooking such a delicious piece of beef to perfection (or to the diner’s taste) is a non-negotiable matter, in my view. I do not cherish a medium+ treatment of fine meat but am, after all, a forgiving man who understands that running a restaurant is not an easy endeavour. Fortunately I had vicariously harvested grapes on Waiheke island at the Man O’ War winery and was drinking a glass or two of their fine syrah with its smooth, silky complexities and agreeably persuasive manner. I was happy enough......
There’s little doubt that many of us will have fond memories of the old Cin Cin on Quay dating back many years but the emergence of the Botswana Butchery on the same site and in the same premises is a move forward. I have every confidence that the BB will embed itself very quickly into the culinary psyche of Aucklanders and visitors to the city alike but they will need to be vigilant and must sweat the small stuff until all is 100%. Their reputation depends on it. I will return to feast again before the end of winter and I am truly hoping my steak is absolutely perfect. It’s non-negotiable.
Pepperberry Cafe
Peter Piper won’t find packs of pickled peppers at the Pepperberry Cafe & Florist any more than you or I will but perhaps he could buy a bunch of bluebells, begonias or blue roses? Having a florist in the same premises and within smelling distance of one’s table whilst lunching allows the glorious indulgence of imagining oneself in a perfumed garden.....in the purest sense of course.
I have thundered a thousand times past this chameleon cafe over the years and have seen its name change with each new ownership. It has always been a popular destination for the multitudes working in the area, from the medically-minded at Southern Cross Hospital and the After Hours Surgery across the road to the office workers upstairs, the city construction teams and the passing motorists in need of a takeaway Hummingbird coffee.
For me it was lunch-lust, an uncontrollable urge to satisfy the famelicose self and the attendant pangs before later in the day rushing into the arms of Bacchus and his liquid, intoxicating, internal therapeutic massage.
There wasn’t a gourmet in sight, only the gourmand Lu whose agenda was writ large in his very psyche - and so it was that I ordered the Full Breakfast well paired with a thick sludge masquerading as a milkshake. In all fairness to the maker the shake was a largely welcome tsunami of froth and foam, heavily laced with the intense flavour of “creaming soda” but just lacking the essential chill factor. Milkshakes need to be as cold as Hilda Hulme appeared to all and sundry in 1954, as we drink them as a cold drink....
The full brekky was very much the style and type of cooked breakfast you might cook if you were at home on a Sunday morning with no-one else in the house to see your indiscretion....and you’d had a night on the tiles. Cast out all the notions of healthy eating and the threatening language of the purveyors of diets; get ye to the stove and fry up the sausages, crisp the bacon, refry the potatoes from a previous meal and don’t forget the eggs – how many was that? Three, four...?
Pepperberry, it must be admitted, made a far better job of cooking the delicate, decadently soft and luxurious poached eggs, the ultra crisp, devoid of dripping oil/fat bacon and the symmetrical chunks of refried potatoes than I ever could and so I can’t complain. The food was 100% cafe food and didn’t pretend to be otherwise. There are healthy options for those of you who might arrive on expensive, carbon or titanium-framed bicycles, clad in unbecoming, gaudy, skin-tight spandex with all manner of corporate logos displayed across the tops of your behinds so don’t despair!
By the time I was ready to leave my mind was reeling in the knowledge that my highly priced(and prized) juicer, my electric orange juice machine and my running shoes would all be glaring at me when I walked through the door at home but I knew in my heart that the God of Wine would offer a helping hand to whisk all my cares away, albeit temporarily.
Tomorrow is another day and I promise to walk 15 kilometres, ride 120 kilometres, eat salads and drink trim milk. And this is after my 1 hour of Yoga, meditation, massage and reading the latest book on the latest diet.
Enjoy....
I have thundered a thousand times past this chameleon cafe over the years and have seen its name change with each new ownership. It has always been a popular destination for the multitudes working in the area, from the medically-minded at Southern Cross Hospital and the After Hours Surgery across the road to the office workers upstairs, the city construction teams and the passing motorists in need of a takeaway Hummingbird coffee.
For me it was lunch-lust, an uncontrollable urge to satisfy the famelicose self and the attendant pangs before later in the day rushing into the arms of Bacchus and his liquid, intoxicating, internal therapeutic massage.
There wasn’t a gourmet in sight, only the gourmand Lu whose agenda was writ large in his very psyche - and so it was that I ordered the Full Breakfast well paired with a thick sludge masquerading as a milkshake. In all fairness to the maker the shake was a largely welcome tsunami of froth and foam, heavily laced with the intense flavour of “creaming soda” but just lacking the essential chill factor. Milkshakes need to be as cold as Hilda Hulme appeared to all and sundry in 1954, as we drink them as a cold drink....
The full brekky was very much the style and type of cooked breakfast you might cook if you were at home on a Sunday morning with no-one else in the house to see your indiscretion....and you’d had a night on the tiles. Cast out all the notions of healthy eating and the threatening language of the purveyors of diets; get ye to the stove and fry up the sausages, crisp the bacon, refry the potatoes from a previous meal and don’t forget the eggs – how many was that? Three, four...?
Pepperberry, it must be admitted, made a far better job of cooking the delicate, decadently soft and luxurious poached eggs, the ultra crisp, devoid of dripping oil/fat bacon and the symmetrical chunks of refried potatoes than I ever could and so I can’t complain. The food was 100% cafe food and didn’t pretend to be otherwise. There are healthy options for those of you who might arrive on expensive, carbon or titanium-framed bicycles, clad in unbecoming, gaudy, skin-tight spandex with all manner of corporate logos displayed across the tops of your behinds so don’t despair!
By the time I was ready to leave my mind was reeling in the knowledge that my highly priced(and prized) juicer, my electric orange juice machine and my running shoes would all be glaring at me when I walked through the door at home but I knew in my heart that the God of Wine would offer a helping hand to whisk all my cares away, albeit temporarily.
Tomorrow is another day and I promise to walk 15 kilometres, ride 120 kilometres, eat salads and drink trim milk. And this is after my 1 hour of Yoga, meditation, massage and reading the latest book on the latest diet.
Enjoy....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)