Six moist, lightly garnished oysters,
Bluff, no less, lined up on a rectangular plate with a half lemon at one end. No
need to get to the end of these queued up beauties to experience a sense of
very real besottedness that derives from getting up close and personal with
such raw, naked bivalve molluscs. The mere sight of them, asleep in their
shells is enough to hijack the mind, cause instant salivation and evoke
lascivious thoughts.
As with any fine oyster, wherever in
the world it may hail from, the joy comes from the true salty taste of the
ocean, the textural waterslide of slippery, silken, spank-me-now sensationalism
that only this food can promise and deliver.
The Hotel d’Urville restaurant is
known for its ability to take its diners to a higher place with a firm
commitment to accentuating the natural qualities of New Zealand produce,
letting the food speak to us in its own inimitable way, untampered with,
natural and noble. And so it was with my 6 oysters.
I was dining at a respectable hour in
the early evening and so there was plenty of time to continue my everpresent pledge
to reach for the top shelf and bathe in the true excellence of carefully
sourced, prime produce. And so it was that I found irresistible the prospect of
a serving of ‘FirstLight’ New Zealand bred (Central Plateau, Hawkes Bay) Wagyu
ribeye, proudly marbled between grade 7 and 9. On the side a well provisioned
bowl of hot, steaming winter vegetables and a splayed-edged butter dish
offering an intoxicating double act of Gorgonzola and walnut butter, the sight,
smell and taste so sure to entertain and please with consummate ease.
My Wagyu celebrity was indisputably shining
star material and with its astounding tenderness, this masterful, oozing,
proteinaceous, panhygrous ingot of earthy, grass-fed beef satisfied my needs
with grace and dignity, giving body and soul to my joie de vivre and meeting my
every expectation.
Following a short period of
postprandial meditation and another glass of merlot for medicinal purposes and
good measure, a rather splendid dessert described on the menu as “Soft Centred
Chocolate Fondant and Vanilla Pod Ice Cream” came by. The 20 minute preparation
time for this very beautiful but simply presented dish gave my digestive system
some time to make space; the pause in proceedings heightened my anticipation
for what I knew would be an affair of luscious, lasting, mellifluous decadence.
The evening wore on, time was, in effect, of no consequence and so after
another relaxed adjournment and a libatory dram it was time to frolic with a quintet of cheeses, some crackers, walnut bread, apple,
gherkins and relish. Onetik Brebis, a semi hard nutty flavoured ewe’s milk
cheese from the Pyrenees (an area dear to my heart), a creamy Brie de Meaux, and
from the Auvergne Region of France the medium to strong flavoured St Agur Blue
each gave up their secrets amidst the swirl of
a local dessert wine. The sweet nuttiness of the Karikass Maasdam, a
Dutch version of the Swiss Emmental, offered its gentle refrain and the Tomme
de Chevre from the Provencal region softly conveyed its confoundedly
interesting characteristics to the palate with a tangy confidence.
A fine experience.
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