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.