Whether or not His Holiness ‘The High Priest of Smoked Salmon’ was busy sanctifying the servings on the night of my visit is not important as my portion of this saltwater aquatic vertebrate was truly blessed.
From the moment one enters this special brick tabernacle on the corner of Ferry Rd and Catherine Street an underlying feeling of quiet euphoria descends upon you and you know you will be led into pink and fleshy temptation.
The undeniably fashionable atmosphere, with such salutes to modernity as a blackboard wall, cutting edge artwork, slick, sassy couches and twenty first century kitchen views, is longingly wrapped in a cloak of post Victorian red brick .
A Pasqua Merlot 2010 and a chilled bottle of Christchurch water were enough to smoothly annoint my craving palate and start my conversational motor in readiness for a pleasant evening.
The smoked salmon and vegetable chowder with warm bread gave flight to any thoughts of the cold winter night outside, coaxing me without difficulty into accepting a main course of hot smoked salmon also. It wasn’t at all a case of too much of a good thing as both dishes were more than adequately plated, portion perfect and proud panoplies of local produce.
The silver jacket of the salmon shed its luxurious flesh without a flex of resistance, my knife falling through the succulent, exalted fillet with consummate ease, the taste so soft, so spiritual, so........utterly sublime.
Sharing the joy of the service were such well chosen and appropriate accompaniments as a warm potato salad, red pepper, courgettes, Kalamata olives, capers and basil all fully purged or cleansed of any sins they may have had in a previous life.
Amen.
Tuesday 29 May 2012
Sunday 20 May 2012
The Spur
There’s much to be thankful for in good old Redcliffs Village. Naturally
enough there’s no mall and thank God for that. But what it does have is a
Chinese Restaurant, a Fish & Chip shop,a cafe, a quality butcher, a Thai
Takeaway, an award winning dairy(Mr Lu award for customer service), a service
station, womens fashion store, doctor, physiotherapist, chemist....and I have
most likely missed someone but sincerely apologise if so.
What on earth has any of this got to do with The Spur? The Spur is Redcliffs' resident cafe and serves its little community well with the likes of paninis, quiches, bagels, cakes, pies, sausage rolls, sandwiches and more. In recent times (2011 actually) I lived nearby and oft ambled in through their doors for my morning infusion. Service is invariably friendly and prompt enough with even attention-seekers finding some satisfaction, the food is Kiwi cafe fare so you’re not going to write home to your relatives in the South of France about it or even ask for the recipes. However, it serves its purpose and we all keep going back, time and time again, to cafes just like this for a further helping, day after day, week after week. The convenience factor is important and the consistency of quality is also a consideration. The French have their baguettes and fromage, we have our paninis, bagels, quiches, pies etc and the ubiquitous Canterbury salmon. Not at all to be sneezed at I’d have to say.
My long black was a punchy little number with a meritorious sting in its tail. The staff kindly provided me with a small white jug of hot water to allow me room to extend my joy another moment or two, albeit in a diluted fashion.
The chicken, cranberry and brie Panini was, as we alluded to above, everyday cafe fare but it was more than an acceptable snack for this gargantuan gutbucket! The chicken was moist but firm, the cranberry tasted like cranberry(surprise, surprise) and the slices of brie were,you guessed it, soft, smooth, sensuous....
What’s more, the diner at The Spur can choose to spread his (or her) wings by venturing out the back of the premises to one of the three tables where will be found the gentle warmth of the winter sun on flesh ( weather permitting) and the close proximity of such wonders of nature as sweetly chirping birds, gently swaying plants of many colours and the nostril flaring exhilaration of the salt sea air.
My advice: Stop in to the The Spur for your afternoon coffee and cake, pop over to the excellent family butcher for a kilo or two of fillet steak, grab a lotto ticket at the dairy if that is your want, pick up your twice weekly order of horse strength sedatives from the chemist and then head for home. Enjoy the good life!
What on earth has any of this got to do with The Spur? The Spur is Redcliffs' resident cafe and serves its little community well with the likes of paninis, quiches, bagels, cakes, pies, sausage rolls, sandwiches and more. In recent times (2011 actually) I lived nearby and oft ambled in through their doors for my morning infusion. Service is invariably friendly and prompt enough with even attention-seekers finding some satisfaction, the food is Kiwi cafe fare so you’re not going to write home to your relatives in the South of France about it or even ask for the recipes. However, it serves its purpose and we all keep going back, time and time again, to cafes just like this for a further helping, day after day, week after week. The convenience factor is important and the consistency of quality is also a consideration. The French have their baguettes and fromage, we have our paninis, bagels, quiches, pies etc and the ubiquitous Canterbury salmon. Not at all to be sneezed at I’d have to say.
My long black was a punchy little number with a meritorious sting in its tail. The staff kindly provided me with a small white jug of hot water to allow me room to extend my joy another moment or two, albeit in a diluted fashion.
The chicken, cranberry and brie Panini was, as we alluded to above, everyday cafe fare but it was more than an acceptable snack for this gargantuan gutbucket! The chicken was moist but firm, the cranberry tasted like cranberry(surprise, surprise) and the slices of brie were,you guessed it, soft, smooth, sensuous....
What’s more, the diner at The Spur can choose to spread his (or her) wings by venturing out the back of the premises to one of the three tables where will be found the gentle warmth of the winter sun on flesh ( weather permitting) and the close proximity of such wonders of nature as sweetly chirping birds, gently swaying plants of many colours and the nostril flaring exhilaration of the salt sea air.
My advice: Stop in to the The Spur for your afternoon coffee and cake, pop over to the excellent family butcher for a kilo or two of fillet steak, grab a lotto ticket at the dairy if that is your want, pick up your twice weekly order of horse strength sedatives from the chemist and then head for home. Enjoy the good life!
The Packingshed Cafe
Let it be written that ochlophobics in Canterbury will these days have
difficulty finding quietude in cafes and restaurants, wherever in the region
they may be. Whilst I have neither an irrational fear of crowds nor an insanely
gregarious bent it is sometimes a wonderful thing to seek a meditative moment
away from the mill and throng of city life in the bucolic bliss of somewhere
still and valley bound.
And so it was on a beautiful weekend afternoon that we motored through the short but utterly spectacular Old Tai Tapu Rd scenic route and into Early Valley Rd to find the Packingshed Cafe a short drive further on.
You don’t need a Degree in Fine Art or Geography to appreciate what is on offer in these healing hills, the reassuring rolls of sculptured, sun blessed slopes, the soft and shady valley floors, the soul enriching sound of native birds and the eye bathing beauty of the bois!
The Packingshed Cafe hasn’t changed much since my last visit two and a half years ago; there remains a rough and ready clutter of tables and chairs on the entrance patio, friendly staff, a busy kitchen and a well stocked mini store occupying part of the premises. It was, however, with more than a modicum of apprehension that we awaited our food order, patently aware of the hammering this eatery has suffered at the ‘thumbs’ of the DineOut community. How would things turn out? I had to keep an open mind and not prejudge...
Bread and Dips – the few pieces of white bread barely sufficed but the rocket pesto with garlic, chilli, peanuts, olive oil and parsley was palatable and piquant, the fruit paste sweet and silken, the dollop of smooth, shining cream cheese delightful.
Smokey Venison Pie boasting plum marinated venison rump sautéed with onion & carrot in jus, encased in a flakey pastry and accompanied by a rosemary, onion & plum jam, roast winter vegetables and a lingering aroma met my expectations and allayed most, if not all, of the trepidations I may have hitherto harboured.
The venison chunks were fully cooked, the composition of the pie, including its pastry, more than adequate, with good taste and textures across the ingredients. The roasted vegetables, represented on the plate as rectangular, chunky slices, were earthy, wholesome and ever so winsome! At $20.50 this was an affordable lunch.
To round off we bypassed the considerable selection of desserts, opting instead for a cheeseboard at $15. The tantalising tango of taste continued with a trio of cheeses presented with crackers and more of the cream cheese, pesto and fruit sauce mentioned above. It didn’t take us long to deal with the Kikorangi Blue, Mainland Brie and marinated Feta, each temperature perfect as they awaited our pleasure.
Service throughout was no better or worse than that which you will find in hundreds of cafes and restaurants around New Zealand. I had no complaints and will happily return.
And so it was on a beautiful weekend afternoon that we motored through the short but utterly spectacular Old Tai Tapu Rd scenic route and into Early Valley Rd to find the Packingshed Cafe a short drive further on.
You don’t need a Degree in Fine Art or Geography to appreciate what is on offer in these healing hills, the reassuring rolls of sculptured, sun blessed slopes, the soft and shady valley floors, the soul enriching sound of native birds and the eye bathing beauty of the bois!
The Packingshed Cafe hasn’t changed much since my last visit two and a half years ago; there remains a rough and ready clutter of tables and chairs on the entrance patio, friendly staff, a busy kitchen and a well stocked mini store occupying part of the premises. It was, however, with more than a modicum of apprehension that we awaited our food order, patently aware of the hammering this eatery has suffered at the ‘thumbs’ of the DineOut community. How would things turn out? I had to keep an open mind and not prejudge...
Bread and Dips – the few pieces of white bread barely sufficed but the rocket pesto with garlic, chilli, peanuts, olive oil and parsley was palatable and piquant, the fruit paste sweet and silken, the dollop of smooth, shining cream cheese delightful.
Smokey Venison Pie boasting plum marinated venison rump sautéed with onion & carrot in jus, encased in a flakey pastry and accompanied by a rosemary, onion & plum jam, roast winter vegetables and a lingering aroma met my expectations and allayed most, if not all, of the trepidations I may have hitherto harboured.
The venison chunks were fully cooked, the composition of the pie, including its pastry, more than adequate, with good taste and textures across the ingredients. The roasted vegetables, represented on the plate as rectangular, chunky slices, were earthy, wholesome and ever so winsome! At $20.50 this was an affordable lunch.
To round off we bypassed the considerable selection of desserts, opting instead for a cheeseboard at $15. The tantalising tango of taste continued with a trio of cheeses presented with crackers and more of the cream cheese, pesto and fruit sauce mentioned above. It didn’t take us long to deal with the Kikorangi Blue, Mainland Brie and marinated Feta, each temperature perfect as they awaited our pleasure.
Service throughout was no better or worse than that which you will find in hundreds of cafes and restaurants around New Zealand. I had no complaints and will happily return.
Friday 18 May 2012
The Store@TaiTapu
The delirium of deprival had not yet irreparably damaged my senses and with hunger levelling its rifle sights at me I headed for the peace and quiet of the countryside. Eighteen kilometres out of town, which may not seem far to some of you city dwellers, I came upon a friendly farmer willing to take me in, feed me hot vegetable broth and warm my swollen feet by the open fire....or so I thought.
In actual fact, whilst the above may not be strictly true, I did find somewhere equally as inviting and with a pleasing enough menu to induce moments of unmistakable joy and bouts of splendid relief at my good fortune.
A convivial community meeting point with aromatic wafts of freshly ground and expressed coffee, the large espresso machine ‘doing its thing’ with comforting encessancy, the ‘ladies in waiting’ sashaying about the room with purpose and poise. How could I not be teased into temptation by such tea house temptresses?
My espresso before me, a glass of Rabbit Patch Pinot Noir on order and the thrill of expectation as I waited a short while only for the ooh aah opportunity of lavishing my love on a lunch main of lamb. “Mildly spiced lamb backstrap served on a bed of roasted kumara & tomato, finished with rocket and a sweet red pepper dressing.” Such an unashamedly honest country offering, its fresh, earthy flavours a superb reminder to even the most critical of deipnosophists, that whilst molecular gastronomy and scientific cuisine has its place in the exciting world of food and wine, there is nothing quite so delightful as a simple, well prepared meal using the fruits of the local earth. Of course, The Store at TaiTapu is not a fine dining restaurant, far from it, but as a cafe it offers its own special take on local food and wine that is not at all complicated. The intention is for you, the customer, to enjoy the tastes on offer and be inspired enough to return. It seems that everything is local (South Island)including the wines so why wouldn’t you?
Judging by the numbers in this establishment on a weekday lunchtime they are doing everything right.
In actual fact, whilst the above may not be strictly true, I did find somewhere equally as inviting and with a pleasing enough menu to induce moments of unmistakable joy and bouts of splendid relief at my good fortune.
A convivial community meeting point with aromatic wafts of freshly ground and expressed coffee, the large espresso machine ‘doing its thing’ with comforting encessancy, the ‘ladies in waiting’ sashaying about the room with purpose and poise. How could I not be teased into temptation by such tea house temptresses?
My espresso before me, a glass of Rabbit Patch Pinot Noir on order and the thrill of expectation as I waited a short while only for the ooh aah opportunity of lavishing my love on a lunch main of lamb. “Mildly spiced lamb backstrap served on a bed of roasted kumara & tomato, finished with rocket and a sweet red pepper dressing.” Such an unashamedly honest country offering, its fresh, earthy flavours a superb reminder to even the most critical of deipnosophists, that whilst molecular gastronomy and scientific cuisine has its place in the exciting world of food and wine, there is nothing quite so delightful as a simple, well prepared meal using the fruits of the local earth. Of course, The Store at TaiTapu is not a fine dining restaurant, far from it, but as a cafe it offers its own special take on local food and wine that is not at all complicated. The intention is for you, the customer, to enjoy the tastes on offer and be inspired enough to return. It seems that everything is local (South Island)including the wines so why wouldn’t you?
Judging by the numbers in this establishment on a weekday lunchtime they are doing everything right.
Alvarados Mexican Cantina
In the uncoordinated scramble for new venues in post-quake Christchurch many cafes and restaurants ended up in the most unlikely places. Alvarados is one of those as it is now inauspiciously tucked in behind a pokie-machine encrusted sports bar/pub. In fact, it is part of the same building and, I suspect, owned and operated by the team from Alvarados itself. The main entrance to the restaurant is off Wilsons Rd yet the advertised address is 77 Stevens St. We entered via the Stevens St entrance only to walk in to the Sports Bar/Pokie-heaven environment and felt just a tad crestfallen that our decision to dine at A’s was a seriously flawed one. There seemed to be a complete absence of the ‘desired’ atmosphere and the noise from both the large wall-mounted televisions and the slot machines was unrelenting and offputting.
However, we were quickly advised that the restaurant was through a pair of swing doors, down a corridor and to the right. Talk about a revelation! The restaurant itself was convincingly themed in reassuring Mexican style, complete with adobe coloured walls, mood lighting, a lot of chunky wooden posts, multi-coloured striped yellow and red table cloths and more. It was well executed in my view and a pleasant change from some of the bland decor of competitors out there.
Waitress Andrea, from Columbia, was well spoken, friendly and a delightful help to us throughout the evening. She added an excellent touch of regional authenticity by way of accent, appearance and dress.
A glass of Chilean wine(Montes Classic Merlot) was an acceptable way to start, followed by a soup described on the menu as Caldo de Pollo, “Our Mexican Grandma’s chicken soup recipe. This soup is envigorating! Zesty, mildly spiced, traditional chicken style soup.” This piquant prize was heavily decorated with shredded chicken and well accompanied by tomatoes, onion & slices of lime. The flavours were clean and tantalising, the colours vibrant and appealing with small additions of rice, capsicum, corn and more, each adding fine flicks of flavour to the mix. In its fiery red bowl the soup look amazingly full bodied, so rich in aroma and very much a meal in itself. A good winter pick I’m sure.
As for the main t'is true I wanted to try something different but with the benefit of hindsight I should have chosen something else! The chocolate coated chicken, or Mole Poblano, arrived like an indescribable, dark, mini cow pat; the chocolate is said to be a complex Mexican sauce, covered in sesame seeds and reputed to “originate from an incident in Puebla involving a nun and a visiting priest....”Perhaps the word "incident" should read "accident". The mind boggles and I’m not certain this is the right place to go further on this.
With some trepidation I seized my knife and fork and commenced the dissection. After my first bite I wondered whether I would be transported to another time or another place but the consequences were less miraculous. My tastebuds were indeed challenged and I wondered what on earth I was doing eating such a rich, unusually paired duo – chocolate and dry chicken – however, a certain je ne sais quoi was at play here and when the other components on the plate melded effortlessly with the choco chicken the experience was somewhat tempered, for the better in my view. The spicy diced vegetables, the salad greens and the melted cheese took some of the focus away from the dominating chocolate on the plate.
I will return in winter as felt this would be an excellent venue for a fiery dinner in the depths of the Arctic blows but I will not reorder the Mole Poblano!
However, we were quickly advised that the restaurant was through a pair of swing doors, down a corridor and to the right. Talk about a revelation! The restaurant itself was convincingly themed in reassuring Mexican style, complete with adobe coloured walls, mood lighting, a lot of chunky wooden posts, multi-coloured striped yellow and red table cloths and more. It was well executed in my view and a pleasant change from some of the bland decor of competitors out there.
Waitress Andrea, from Columbia, was well spoken, friendly and a delightful help to us throughout the evening. She added an excellent touch of regional authenticity by way of accent, appearance and dress.
A glass of Chilean wine(Montes Classic Merlot) was an acceptable way to start, followed by a soup described on the menu as Caldo de Pollo, “Our Mexican Grandma’s chicken soup recipe. This soup is envigorating! Zesty, mildly spiced, traditional chicken style soup.” This piquant prize was heavily decorated with shredded chicken and well accompanied by tomatoes, onion & slices of lime. The flavours were clean and tantalising, the colours vibrant and appealing with small additions of rice, capsicum, corn and more, each adding fine flicks of flavour to the mix. In its fiery red bowl the soup look amazingly full bodied, so rich in aroma and very much a meal in itself. A good winter pick I’m sure.
As for the main t'is true I wanted to try something different but with the benefit of hindsight I should have chosen something else! The chocolate coated chicken, or Mole Poblano, arrived like an indescribable, dark, mini cow pat; the chocolate is said to be a complex Mexican sauce, covered in sesame seeds and reputed to “originate from an incident in Puebla involving a nun and a visiting priest....”Perhaps the word "incident" should read "accident". The mind boggles and I’m not certain this is the right place to go further on this.
With some trepidation I seized my knife and fork and commenced the dissection. After my first bite I wondered whether I would be transported to another time or another place but the consequences were less miraculous. My tastebuds were indeed challenged and I wondered what on earth I was doing eating such a rich, unusually paired duo – chocolate and dry chicken – however, a certain je ne sais quoi was at play here and when the other components on the plate melded effortlessly with the choco chicken the experience was somewhat tempered, for the better in my view. The spicy diced vegetables, the salad greens and the melted cheese took some of the focus away from the dominating chocolate on the plate.
I will return in winter as felt this would be an excellent venue for a fiery dinner in the depths of the Arctic blows but I will not reorder the Mole Poblano!
The Sausage Sisters
The Sausage Sisters have set up a sensationally simple sausage roll and sandwich salvatory a small but smooth stone’s throw, or perhaps even a short, exhilarating shog, you might say, from the Cera-induced wasteland previously known as the CBD.
I don’t at all feel this was a move by two twisted sisters, rather, a shrewd sashay into hospitality by astute businesspeople in the newly spawned, previously spurned, Sydenham sector.
Cast immediately from your mind that there is seating inside for a mere two of you only and consider the open air alternative of two six seater picnic settings, partially flanked by metal planters ablaze with the fiery splendour of pansies and posies and other pleasant plants.
Pour piping hot coffee into your system, enliven your inner dullard, seize with cheerful volition and open-mouthed voracity one of the large, handsome, stuffed sausage rolls, gourmet no less, or feast with your own inimitable style of fifishment on one of a number of fresh grain bread sandwiches. Chicken, avocado, tomato and lettuce maybe?
Reflect and wonder, while peacefully munching on your pork, apple and thyme sausage roll, as I did, whether we will all be listed in the Christchurch hall of shame by future generations for our part in the wholesale destruction of most of the city’s heritage, interesting architecture and eminently saveable buildings.
Alternatively, simply accept, whilst ordering another hot coffee, that CERA knows best and we couldn’t/shouldn’t save our historic buildings any more than post-war Europe could save its Cathedrals, beautiful public buildings, hotels and residences.
Now, where are those brochures on Prague, Paris, London........?
I don’t at all feel this was a move by two twisted sisters, rather, a shrewd sashay into hospitality by astute businesspeople in the newly spawned, previously spurned, Sydenham sector.
Cast immediately from your mind that there is seating inside for a mere two of you only and consider the open air alternative of two six seater picnic settings, partially flanked by metal planters ablaze with the fiery splendour of pansies and posies and other pleasant plants.
Pour piping hot coffee into your system, enliven your inner dullard, seize with cheerful volition and open-mouthed voracity one of the large, handsome, stuffed sausage rolls, gourmet no less, or feast with your own inimitable style of fifishment on one of a number of fresh grain bread sandwiches. Chicken, avocado, tomato and lettuce maybe?
Reflect and wonder, while peacefully munching on your pork, apple and thyme sausage roll, as I did, whether we will all be listed in the Christchurch hall of shame by future generations for our part in the wholesale destruction of most of the city’s heritage, interesting architecture and eminently saveable buildings.
Alternatively, simply accept, whilst ordering another hot coffee, that CERA knows best and we couldn’t/shouldn’t save our historic buildings any more than post-war Europe could save its Cathedrals, beautiful public buildings, hotels and residences.
Now, where are those brochures on Prague, Paris, London........?
Sub Zero
Temperatures were far from sub-zero the day I strolled into this busy cafe for lunch. The unrelenting chatter of seemingly innumerable pairs of well dressed middle aged women, babbling, balding blokes and others, combined with the cacophonous clinking and chinking of glass and chinaware from the kitchen made for a sense of being in a modern version of a pre-Victorian House of Bedlam. I felt quite at home!
One orders at the counter then locates a table and chair – I was unfathomably lucky, considering the place was full of the aforementioned noise-makers, to find a cosy spot inside the floor to ceiling plate glass window on the northern perimeter.
As busy as they were the superhuman wait staff managed to supply me with the required food and drink inside 10 minutes, surely a feat of magnificence in any one’s view. I wanted the thick, creamy experience of a chai latte this day and it was just so. Warm but not hot, thick but not too much and in a cup that was able to be lifted to my lips without strained acts of digital gymnastics or the risk of dreaded cup cantileverage/slippage.
To complement the drink came a ‘flute’, playing a tune from within its toasted pale coat, of music composed with quiet, organic lavishness by the strikingly crisp & tasty bacon, the lush, moist tomato, the gently melted, warm cheese and the smattering of playful herbs. A plain and simple midday meal, admittedly, but a delicious one nonetheless.
Who was it who once said, “Hunger is the best sauce...” ?
One orders at the counter then locates a table and chair – I was unfathomably lucky, considering the place was full of the aforementioned noise-makers, to find a cosy spot inside the floor to ceiling plate glass window on the northern perimeter.
As busy as they were the superhuman wait staff managed to supply me with the required food and drink inside 10 minutes, surely a feat of magnificence in any one’s view. I wanted the thick, creamy experience of a chai latte this day and it was just so. Warm but not hot, thick but not too much and in a cup that was able to be lifted to my lips without strained acts of digital gymnastics or the risk of dreaded cup cantileverage/slippage.
To complement the drink came a ‘flute’, playing a tune from within its toasted pale coat, of music composed with quiet, organic lavishness by the strikingly crisp & tasty bacon, the lush, moist tomato, the gently melted, warm cheese and the smattering of playful herbs. A plain and simple midday meal, admittedly, but a delicious one nonetheless.
Who was it who once said, “Hunger is the best sauce...” ?
Tuesday 1 May 2012
Copenhagen Bakery & cafe
Looking for a blast of damn fine daytime baking? Copenhagen Bakery has an excellent track record of providing stunning buns, pert, palatable pastries and rolls that rock around the clock.
Their new location on Harewood Rd, smack in the middle of suburbia, is a far cry from inner city Armagh St but it appears to have been a good move from a dough-making perspective. The cafe was very busy when I visited just after 11 o’clock on a weekday morning and it’s not hard to see and understand why. The sun just streams in through the front windows, there’s ease of parking, the premises are capacious, modern and inviting, the food cabinets are filled with diet smashing delights, salmon, chicken and salad-filled scrumptiousness and the coffee is as good as you’ll find anywhere.
There was an air of anticipation as the queue of customers lined up across the front of the cabinets, eagerly choosing their lunches, each dreaming no doubt of sinking his or her teeth into the crispness of a hard roll or the softness of a croissant to release the burst of freshly baked flavour . And this is before getting to the fillings!
A hot, strong espresso with a Chicken Torpedo ($6.80)suited me fine and the whole was more than sufficient for a lunch meal. Plenty of shredded chicken, a couple of slices of tomato, cucumber, some shredded carrot, a small dab of mayo and a layer or two of lettuce. A well balanced, tasty treat if ever I saw and ate one.
The vast selection of goodies on offer is a surefire way of ensuring customers return to work their way through the line up. I’ll be back.
Their new location on Harewood Rd, smack in the middle of suburbia, is a far cry from inner city Armagh St but it appears to have been a good move from a dough-making perspective. The cafe was very busy when I visited just after 11 o’clock on a weekday morning and it’s not hard to see and understand why. The sun just streams in through the front windows, there’s ease of parking, the premises are capacious, modern and inviting, the food cabinets are filled with diet smashing delights, salmon, chicken and salad-filled scrumptiousness and the coffee is as good as you’ll find anywhere.
There was an air of anticipation as the queue of customers lined up across the front of the cabinets, eagerly choosing their lunches, each dreaming no doubt of sinking his or her teeth into the crispness of a hard roll or the softness of a croissant to release the burst of freshly baked flavour . And this is before getting to the fillings!
A hot, strong espresso with a Chicken Torpedo ($6.80)suited me fine and the whole was more than sufficient for a lunch meal. Plenty of shredded chicken, a couple of slices of tomato, cucumber, some shredded carrot, a small dab of mayo and a layer or two of lettuce. A well balanced, tasty treat if ever I saw and ate one.
The vast selection of goodies on offer is a surefire way of ensuring customers return to work their way through the line up. I’ll be back.
Scarborough Fare
A four and a half hour return walk from Sumner to Boulder Bay via the surfers’ paradise of Taylors Mistake is, if nothing else, a huge appetite inducing exercise. It was, of course, much more than this and the spectacular photographs in my camera are proof of what a uniquely beautiful part of Canterbury this area is. The rugged, steep coastline, the pristine, people-free bays and coves and the incredible old Kiwi baches clinging desperately to their tiny, surfside patches of land made the strenuous, fast-paced trek ever so worthwhile.
My point of return, Scarborough Beach, has long been the home of Scarborough Fare Restaurant, an eatery of mixed fortunes it would be fair to suggest. In the past fourteen months it has been reviewed on DineOut only twice and both reviews came in under 4.0. Both reviewers with a mere one review to their names and nothing since so perhaps not of much consequence.....
The setting is very agreeable, in the shadow of a stone clocktower, with the Pacific Ocean one side and an excellent family park the other, plenty of al fresco seating and more than ample accommodation inside, with a view.
The lunch menu runs to three pages including desserts, coffees and teas with the usual cross-section of tastes catered for and everything from snacks to full meals on offer. It is my understanding that they don’t open for dinner.
The Moroccan Fish Fillet dish, which came with salad and a couple of lemon wedges, was disappointing I’m afraid to say, as the fish pieces did not appear to be in abundance and the salad was a frustrated looking jumble scattered about the plate. Admittedly, the salad was a comprehensive array of fresh items and was the star of the dish so some consolation was had. Nonetheless, I am reluctant to write this place off as some of the meals being delivered to other tables looked far more professionally presented and, in watching others eat, (a bad habit of mine!) I noticed no signs of displeasure.
Staff are all in uniforms, service is prompt and adequate and they offer all ten wines on the wine list by the glass as well as by the bottle. A possible downside for some might be the irritating ordering procedure whereby one has to queue at the counter and pay up before sitting down; however, this may well be due to the historic frequency of runners....
My point of return, Scarborough Beach, has long been the home of Scarborough Fare Restaurant, an eatery of mixed fortunes it would be fair to suggest. In the past fourteen months it has been reviewed on DineOut only twice and both reviews came in under 4.0. Both reviewers with a mere one review to their names and nothing since so perhaps not of much consequence.....
The setting is very agreeable, in the shadow of a stone clocktower, with the Pacific Ocean one side and an excellent family park the other, plenty of al fresco seating and more than ample accommodation inside, with a view.
The lunch menu runs to three pages including desserts, coffees and teas with the usual cross-section of tastes catered for and everything from snacks to full meals on offer. It is my understanding that they don’t open for dinner.
The Moroccan Fish Fillet dish, which came with salad and a couple of lemon wedges, was disappointing I’m afraid to say, as the fish pieces did not appear to be in abundance and the salad was a frustrated looking jumble scattered about the plate. Admittedly, the salad was a comprehensive array of fresh items and was the star of the dish so some consolation was had. Nonetheless, I am reluctant to write this place off as some of the meals being delivered to other tables looked far more professionally presented and, in watching others eat, (a bad habit of mine!) I noticed no signs of displeasure.
Staff are all in uniforms, service is prompt and adequate and they offer all ten wines on the wine list by the glass as well as by the bottle. A possible downside for some might be the irritating ordering procedure whereby one has to queue at the counter and pay up before sitting down; however, this may well be due to the historic frequency of runners....
Tommy Chang's
We’ve lost so much of our history here in Christchurch in recent times that the discovery of a spiritual home for forlorn nostalgics where one can fill the soul with images of a bygone era whilst sipping organic teas from KeriKeri is akin to mana from heaven.
It was by pure chance that I walked in through the rustic, weathered double entry doors to Tommy Chang’s cafe as I was making my way to the nearby chemist shop. A world of Victorian Kiwi knick knacks, old world wall claddings, pressed metal ceilings and crafty, early twentieth century bric-a-brac, tables, chairs and oddments represented nothing less than a delightful welcome to me.
In the shelter of the main courtyard space I sipped a soothing cup of Manuka Mint tea, an organic, caffeine free herbal infusion of a deep, golden hue, empowering aroma and lasting flavour. Strongly minted but with an evident manuka influence this tea was impressive to me, a sworn consumer, no less, of the coffee bean.
I felt so much at peace in this little cafe and was so pleased to see Tommy Chang’s name living on in this new enterprise that I ordered “The Tommy Chang’s”, a breakfast of free range eggs(poached)on focaccia bread with cheese, tomato, home cured bacon, diced veges and a creative serving of very palatable baked beans – black turtle beans in fact, a veritable highlight to the tastebuds. The eggs clucked their freshness and oozed their golden elixir when pierced, truly a poetic moment indeed.
Service was delivered with interest and care, the waiter/barista Shannon engaging so easily and comfortably with his customers, adding yet another layer of love to the experience and ensuring that unsolicited accolades will flow freely from more than satisfied customers.
What’s more, Tommy Chang’s makes everything it serves “from scratch” and strives to source local produce as much as possible. There’s a strong, overriding organic philosophy behind this cafe and I believe it shines through on the table. I want so much to return to try other items on the menu. Chef Guilio has a more than creditable history; in fact, his time at Mugaritz, voted the world’s No. 3 restaurant in the April 2012 San Pellegrino World’s Best Restaurants Awards, and at Restaurant Schwass, formerly one of Christchurch’s best, makes for enviable CV reading. If you’re interested in good food prepared with a touch of passion, a ton of professional experience and a mountain of soul then you owe it to yourself and your palate to visit Lyttelton’s newest gem as soon as possible.
It was by pure chance that I walked in through the rustic, weathered double entry doors to Tommy Chang’s cafe as I was making my way to the nearby chemist shop. A world of Victorian Kiwi knick knacks, old world wall claddings, pressed metal ceilings and crafty, early twentieth century bric-a-brac, tables, chairs and oddments represented nothing less than a delightful welcome to me.
In the shelter of the main courtyard space I sipped a soothing cup of Manuka Mint tea, an organic, caffeine free herbal infusion of a deep, golden hue, empowering aroma and lasting flavour. Strongly minted but with an evident manuka influence this tea was impressive to me, a sworn consumer, no less, of the coffee bean.
I felt so much at peace in this little cafe and was so pleased to see Tommy Chang’s name living on in this new enterprise that I ordered “The Tommy Chang’s”, a breakfast of free range eggs(poached)on focaccia bread with cheese, tomato, home cured bacon, diced veges and a creative serving of very palatable baked beans – black turtle beans in fact, a veritable highlight to the tastebuds. The eggs clucked their freshness and oozed their golden elixir when pierced, truly a poetic moment indeed.
Service was delivered with interest and care, the waiter/barista Shannon engaging so easily and comfortably with his customers, adding yet another layer of love to the experience and ensuring that unsolicited accolades will flow freely from more than satisfied customers.
What’s more, Tommy Chang’s makes everything it serves “from scratch” and strives to source local produce as much as possible. There’s a strong, overriding organic philosophy behind this cafe and I believe it shines through on the table. I want so much to return to try other items on the menu. Chef Guilio has a more than creditable history; in fact, his time at Mugaritz, voted the world’s No. 3 restaurant in the April 2012 San Pellegrino World’s Best Restaurants Awards, and at Restaurant Schwass, formerly one of Christchurch’s best, makes for enviable CV reading. If you’re interested in good food prepared with a touch of passion, a ton of professional experience and a mountain of soul then you owe it to yourself and your palate to visit Lyttelton’s newest gem as soon as possible.
Pomeroy's Pub
That very English style pub so quietly yet quixotically secreted away so close to inner city devastation on Kilmore St. It’s there for us all to enjoy and judging by the numbers on the Sunday night our small group visited it’s not much of a secret!
What a gal! This old red brick bastion of the beverage, a place where conviviality and slap up cuisine meets is somewhere deserving of your attention if you’re looking for love...just kidding.....looking for a sense of local history, a good choice of wines and beers(especially) and you want to eat while drinking...and,of course, socialising.
I contend this is a place for all ages. I was there with my 20 year old daughter and her boyfriend and they thought it was a “pretty cool place”. (She’ll kill me for associating her with those words..)
If you want to be wowed you must opt for the Pomeroy’s Platter. A big, man-sized rectangular platter with a large selection of edible finery. There’s salmon, olives, cheeses, ham, salamis, fish, pickles, caramelised onions, spreads and breads.....and more. Very much a stunning, tantalising offering that will be sure to draw you back time and time again.
In the busy dining room I went for a Pomeroy’s Big Beef Burger as I felt it was time to pay homage to well-known DineOuters Paul & Helen, those meat-eating, chip lovin’ gourmets.(I’ve always liked their anti-vege comments which I am sure are made with good humour).
Anyway, this burger was comprised of a 250gm homemade Angus beef patty with bacon, lettuce, tomato and cheese, confit onion, aioli & BBQ sauce and, of course, a small wheelbarrow of fries. It took me back to El Celler de Can Roca in Spain...just kidding again...
To prepare the food channel for the assault I vigorously sipped (gulped more like)a Bohemian Merlot from Havelock Hills and the result was surprisingly satisfying. I was able to hack happily into the hamburger bun, shred the lettuce with what I felt was the theatrical skill and speed of a Ninja warrior well out of his apprenticeship and munch the already minced beef with unabashed abandon.
A pleasant evening was had and I can but urge you all to get off the couch, turn off the television, clothe your offensive nakedness and get to Pomeroys at once to engage with your fellow man, bathe in the wonder of social interaction and enjoy a drink and bite. Rebuild your sorry lives! Victoria is waiting for you....
What a gal! This old red brick bastion of the beverage, a place where conviviality and slap up cuisine meets is somewhere deserving of your attention if you’re looking for love...just kidding.....looking for a sense of local history, a good choice of wines and beers(especially) and you want to eat while drinking...and,of course, socialising.
I contend this is a place for all ages. I was there with my 20 year old daughter and her boyfriend and they thought it was a “pretty cool place”. (She’ll kill me for associating her with those words..)
If you want to be wowed you must opt for the Pomeroy’s Platter. A big, man-sized rectangular platter with a large selection of edible finery. There’s salmon, olives, cheeses, ham, salamis, fish, pickles, caramelised onions, spreads and breads.....and more. Very much a stunning, tantalising offering that will be sure to draw you back time and time again.
In the busy dining room I went for a Pomeroy’s Big Beef Burger as I felt it was time to pay homage to well-known DineOuters Paul & Helen, those meat-eating, chip lovin’ gourmets.(I’ve always liked their anti-vege comments which I am sure are made with good humour).
Anyway, this burger was comprised of a 250gm homemade Angus beef patty with bacon, lettuce, tomato and cheese, confit onion, aioli & BBQ sauce and, of course, a small wheelbarrow of fries. It took me back to El Celler de Can Roca in Spain...just kidding again...
To prepare the food channel for the assault I vigorously sipped (gulped more like)a Bohemian Merlot from Havelock Hills and the result was surprisingly satisfying. I was able to hack happily into the hamburger bun, shred the lettuce with what I felt was the theatrical skill and speed of a Ninja warrior well out of his apprenticeship and munch the already minced beef with unabashed abandon.
A pleasant evening was had and I can but urge you all to get off the couch, turn off the television, clothe your offensive nakedness and get to Pomeroys at once to engage with your fellow man, bathe in the wonder of social interaction and enjoy a drink and bite. Rebuild your sorry lives! Victoria is waiting for you....
The PortHole Bar & Restaurant, Lyttelton
By Jove, there’s a conjoined cluster of cute containers with evident nautical aspirations on the corner of Canterbury and London Streets. With noticeable skill these former storage workhorses have been melded into an attractive etude of urban design that gestures lovingly to all passers-by.
It was late on a Sunday morning but that didn’t stop us from going in for liquid refreshments. It might have been too early for me to enjoy a bite to eat and the quesadilla did look ravishing, but the body was calling for some restorative tongue-tingling tannin; several well rehearsed, calculated mouthfilling swirls and a number of bold reds later and all was well, seated on stools with wine barrels as tables, we were blessed with the living magnificence of the harbour basin views, the clear blue, sun-filled sky above and the restful pace of a Sunday morning Lyttelton. It was a wonderful thing. The inexorable passing of time drew me and the others so much closer to feeding time and so it was that a colourful clutter of earthly delights came upon us in the guise of a platter for three. Tasty tidbits and healthy bites helped us along the way to yet another glass of choice. My simple childhood pleasures took hold , however, and I succumbed entirely willingly and with gladness of heart to a gourmet toastie. Of course, in my day the toasties were not specifically designated as ‘gourmet’ and came with cheddar cheese and/or a chunk of ham, maybe some onion. Give yourselves up to the girls behind the bar at the Porthole and you’ll be happy enough I would think; just don’t forget you’re in a conglomerate of containers not the French Cafe....
This cosy little establishment has a serious looking espresso machine, a formidable number of alcoholic choices and a changing food menu to offer its customers every good reason to choose either a comfortable soft couch within or a stool and barrel in the sun outside. Lucky Lytteltonians!
It was late on a Sunday morning but that didn’t stop us from going in for liquid refreshments. It might have been too early for me to enjoy a bite to eat and the quesadilla did look ravishing, but the body was calling for some restorative tongue-tingling tannin; several well rehearsed, calculated mouthfilling swirls and a number of bold reds later and all was well, seated on stools with wine barrels as tables, we were blessed with the living magnificence of the harbour basin views, the clear blue, sun-filled sky above and the restful pace of a Sunday morning Lyttelton. It was a wonderful thing. The inexorable passing of time drew me and the others so much closer to feeding time and so it was that a colourful clutter of earthly delights came upon us in the guise of a platter for three. Tasty tidbits and healthy bites helped us along the way to yet another glass of choice. My simple childhood pleasures took hold , however, and I succumbed entirely willingly and with gladness of heart to a gourmet toastie. Of course, in my day the toasties were not specifically designated as ‘gourmet’ and came with cheddar cheese and/or a chunk of ham, maybe some onion. Give yourselves up to the girls behind the bar at the Porthole and you’ll be happy enough I would think; just don’t forget you’re in a conglomerate of containers not the French Cafe....
This cosy little establishment has a serious looking espresso machine, a formidable number of alcoholic choices and a changing food menu to offer its customers every good reason to choose either a comfortable soft couch within or a stool and barrel in the sun outside. Lucky Lytteltonians!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)