Transfixed in the Spell of Excellence

The name of this central city Hamilton restaurant unflinchingly and unselfconsciously  takes your mind  to the 1962 Burl Ives  ballad, Chim Chim Cheree. I suspect that’s quite possibly where any connection ends!  Chim-Choo-Ree doesn’t need any  help to boost its appeal; it stands proud and confident in its small and snuggly position along the main drag of this vibrant North Island metropolis, offering a casual cafe atmosphere with smart, reassuring service and creatively presented food of a refreshingly high standard indeed.

Various acquaintances had recommended Chim-Choo-Ree and so it became the chosen one on a night when I found myself passing through this oft derided younger sister of Auckland. There’s a small town feel to Hamilton with its main street, each side dotted with restaurants, cafes, bars and one or two retail outlets. Admittedly I was there after dark so didn’t manage to see any of the city’s parks, gardens and other public spaces of which I am sure there are many.

We were late in but this was not an issue with the staff and our welcome was noticeable for its genuine warmth. Pinot Gris(Peregrine 2011) to drink accompanied by an exquisite, delicate, palate pleasing amuse bouche settled us at our table with an understated flourish of style, a cherishable moment at the end of a day of travelling.

Bulging, semitransparent and splendidly ambrosial, the rice paper rolls offered a cornucopian escape from reality, a brief but satisfying sashay into tastebud titillation with a strong confidence and fine finish.

It was time for another drop from what was a well put together selection on the wine list, with choices from Central Otago & Martinborough. How could I pass over the opportunity for a swirl, a sniff and a swallow of another of Peregrine’s palatable pedigrees, their pinot noir, described by they themselves as “elegant and bright with aromas of dark cherry and spice. A layered palate of wildberry and blackcurrant fruit combined with a lovely texture and fine tannins.” I couldn’t have put it better myself and how well this wine paired with my main course of lamb rump, so magnificent in stature on the plate, an ovine Olympian so perfectly cooked and hirsute with a bold, verdant toupee of herbs so effectively escalating the excitement with a stunning essence of visuality and vitality. The tender touch of the meat as it passed my lips and graced the very foyer of my person forecasted what was to come for my tastebuds. A fine balance of unmatched flavour and earth-given textures, a celebration in so many ways.
What could one do? Sit, transfixed in the spell of excellence, albeit for a fleeting moment but in the knowledge that a craftsman of cuisine is alive and well in Hamilton today.

It Ain't half Hot Mum...

It matters not that the ‘driveway’, the only route into and out of  Sumner, is lined with a two storey wall of shipping containers and the hills overlooking the area are pockmarked with houses in various stages of ruination; the very essence of this seaside village remains undamaged and as charming as it ever was, its underlying character jubilantly intact. In the depths of winter you will almost certainly see a wetsuit-clad surfer emerging from the waves, you will always enjoy enhaling the salt seasoned air, and the eclectic slopes,smooth and jagged, steep and gentle, sheltering this almost sleepy haven provide something undeniably  special.

Indian Sumner Restaurant, resembling a modified Kiwi bach but with an almost Ghandi-esque lack of pretension, a welcome simplicity, a funkiness and the intimacy of a small space with its wooden battened exterior and rickety presence colourfully enhanced by the motifs, wall hangings and imagery sets the scene so effectively.

Even the menu jumps up at you with a joyful, spicy exuberance, its bright yellow, orange and red colours instilling an exciting sense of preprandial expectation, not unlike, I am sure, the aim of the new wave of sensory restaurants in the world, where colour, music and mood are the drivers. This popular, well managed little enterprise follows through with striking confidence by offering a strong and tempting range of very reasonably priced dishes that do not disappoint in the eating.

At $13.00 the Posht, “tender pieces of lamb cooked with poppy seeds and spices”, was earnest and earthy with the spices beautifully complementing rather than overpowering the lamb. As a table of five we shared a selection of dishes, as one does in these situations, the Roghan Josh always a favourite and well executed in this instance. The Saag, with the accent on spinach, is always one of my choices and all the elements of flavour were present, in proportion with no one ingredient overshadowing the other. Spinach in an application like this is a sure winner and worthy of your attention if you’re dining here. There was Mango Chicken and a Madras, both enjoyable additions to the collective plates, pulao rice, poppadums, mixed pickle, various Naan breads, beer and wine. What is always surprising when Indo-dining is the ability of what seem like very modest servings to satisfy quickly the pangs of hunger, leaving, more often than not, the eater seriously replete! A simply irresistible prospect on a cold winter’s evening.