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....
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
Monday, 30 January 2012
Mercato Cafe & Delicatessen
Oh how Fitzgerald Avenue has changed in recent years! That grand boulevard of mature trees and quaint pre and post Victorian buildings has given way to three lanes a side, bland concrete structures of questionable architectural merit and arboreal decimation. Most of us simply want to pass by, without a glimpse on either side along what is an uninteresting tunnel of drudge...and so it has been for me these past several years.
However, last week I met a business associate for a light lunch at Mercato Cafe, in the midst of all this horror. Tucked in behind a street frontage featuring a carpark is to be found this surprisingly meritorious establishment with more to it than meets the eye at first glance. A splendid European delicatessen greets the new entrant and one must pass by the colourful, fully stocked shelves to arrive at the small, 19+ seat cafe in the north-western corner of the shop. Whilst the lunch menu is not at all comprehensive the selection, I suspect, changes daily and is of a high epicurean standard. Mercato, it seems, is capable of bringing a blip of bliss to all ye who hunger for le snack in le cafe at le lunchtime.
My own flash of ecstacy came in the form of a Pea, spinach and Brie de Meaux tart with a side of exhilaration closely resembling a Green leaf, carrot and mandarin salad. All so delicate in texture and a simple fusion of flavours that brought lasting refreshment to the palate and enough sustenance to adequately bridge the gap from lunch to dinner, modest though the servings were.
Although the cafe seats so few it offers its guests the chirpy chatter of a lunchtime crowd, the aroma of freshly made coffee and a joyful intimacy. After indulging your rumbling stomach the temptation of the adjoining deli is sure to capture your heart & soul, if not the contents of your wallet. Perhaps a few hundred grams of muscatel raisins on vine, maybe a tin of Burgundy escargots, a slice or two of Spanish or Italian chorizo.......then there are the multitudinous European cheeses to die for ....
Enter this oasis in the desert, stay a while and quench your thirst. You could well be pleased with yourself afterwards.
However, last week I met a business associate for a light lunch at Mercato Cafe, in the midst of all this horror. Tucked in behind a street frontage featuring a carpark is to be found this surprisingly meritorious establishment with more to it than meets the eye at first glance. A splendid European delicatessen greets the new entrant and one must pass by the colourful, fully stocked shelves to arrive at the small, 19+ seat cafe in the north-western corner of the shop. Whilst the lunch menu is not at all comprehensive the selection, I suspect, changes daily and is of a high epicurean standard. Mercato, it seems, is capable of bringing a blip of bliss to all ye who hunger for le snack in le cafe at le lunchtime.
My own flash of ecstacy came in the form of a Pea, spinach and Brie de Meaux tart with a side of exhilaration closely resembling a Green leaf, carrot and mandarin salad. All so delicate in texture and a simple fusion of flavours that brought lasting refreshment to the palate and enough sustenance to adequately bridge the gap from lunch to dinner, modest though the servings were.
Although the cafe seats so few it offers its guests the chirpy chatter of a lunchtime crowd, the aroma of freshly made coffee and a joyful intimacy. After indulging your rumbling stomach the temptation of the adjoining deli is sure to capture your heart & soul, if not the contents of your wallet. Perhaps a few hundred grams of muscatel raisins on vine, maybe a tin of Burgundy escargots, a slice or two of Spanish or Italian chorizo.......then there are the multitudinous European cheeses to die for ....
Enter this oasis in the desert, stay a while and quench your thirst. You could well be pleased with yourself afterwards.
Gorilla - Eatery & Drinking Room
The celebratory day has finally arrived! And not just because it’s early on Christmas morning but because Ferrymead is now home to our very own expression of culinary art, in the inimitable guise of a local Gorilla . Jonny Schwass has never been one to ape anyone else in the industry and this new venture, which I suspect is a mere stepping stone along the way for him, does continue his talented exploration of subtle taste differences, fun flavours as well as interesting and eminently workable textural combinations in the food offered.
The theming is minimal but it’s evident, and the generous table settings in the front courtyard catch the sun beautifully.
The menu, which I believe will change regularly, offers snack-sized choices across the usual range but with Jonny’s own confident touch. Pork fat peanuts, chilli & crackling, Onion soup dumplings or perhaps, “My mum’s curried eggs”?
For the more substantial eater there is 24-hour lamb belly with peas and carrots, Pulled pork shoulder, tacos & red apple coleslaw or Lambs tongue, pickling onions & broad beans. The Salmon belly salad, asparagus & boiled egg gherkin I espied on an adjoining table looked particularly enticing.
A glass of Peg Bay Riesling with the onion soup dumplings was enough to initially satisfy my flickering flames of hungry (and thirsty)desire, the four ‘wonton style’ parcels delivering just enough body and soul to tickle the tastebuds, fill the void and set my heart asinging. Be aware that the word ‘soup’ is used in a liberal sense here! There’s nothing floating…
Jonny’s expertise and voluminous talent in bringing out the very best in local fare in its journey from pasture to plate is no mean feat as so much can affect the final outcome. Tasting the chunky but elegant slices of the lamb belly took me back to St John Restaurant in Smithfield, London and the sense that I was once again in the hands of a practitioner who loves his vocation and delivers his passion to the table. The edible componentry of the dish regaled unreservedly and sang of its superb provenance and care of preparation. The freshly-podded peas were particularly impressive and nothing short of exquisite.
The time for settling for second best in Christchurch is over! I’m pleased Mr Schwass has returned and I will return to the arms of the Gorilla for more samplings over the summer.
The theming is minimal but it’s evident, and the generous table settings in the front courtyard catch the sun beautifully.
The menu, which I believe will change regularly, offers snack-sized choices across the usual range but with Jonny’s own confident touch. Pork fat peanuts, chilli & crackling, Onion soup dumplings or perhaps, “My mum’s curried eggs”?
For the more substantial eater there is 24-hour lamb belly with peas and carrots, Pulled pork shoulder, tacos & red apple coleslaw or Lambs tongue, pickling onions & broad beans. The Salmon belly salad, asparagus & boiled egg gherkin I espied on an adjoining table looked particularly enticing.
A glass of Peg Bay Riesling with the onion soup dumplings was enough to initially satisfy my flickering flames of hungry (and thirsty)desire, the four ‘wonton style’ parcels delivering just enough body and soul to tickle the tastebuds, fill the void and set my heart asinging. Be aware that the word ‘soup’ is used in a liberal sense here! There’s nothing floating…
Jonny’s expertise and voluminous talent in bringing out the very best in local fare in its journey from pasture to plate is no mean feat as so much can affect the final outcome. Tasting the chunky but elegant slices of the lamb belly took me back to St John Restaurant in Smithfield, London and the sense that I was once again in the hands of a practitioner who loves his vocation and delivers his passion to the table. The edible componentry of the dish regaled unreservedly and sang of its superb provenance and care of preparation. The freshly-podded peas were particularly impressive and nothing short of exquisite.
The time for settling for second best in Christchurch is over! I’m pleased Mr Schwass has returned and I will return to the arms of the Gorilla for more samplings over the summer.
Bamboozle - Philip Kraal's Oriental Fusion Kitchen & bar
Ever since the September 4th 2010 earthquake I have been thoroughly perplexed, bewildered, bedraggled by dealings with EQC and, quite simply, bamboozled beyond belief. No doubt many of you, dear readers, have suffered the same fate. You can now enjoy being bamboozled in an entirely pleasurable way by the seaside.
One can only admire Philip Kraal of Le Bon Bolli and Crumpet Club fame for yet again responding with accomplished elan in opening his newest enterprise ‘Bamboozle Oriental Fusion Kitchen & Bar’ in Sumner. A damn fine name if I may say so and as one of the fortunates lucky enough to have managed to get a table on opening night I can tell you that the name says it all.
Philip and his team have created a beautiful, themed getaway complete with authentic rickshaw suspended from the ceiling and mood lighting to introduce you, the diner, to his latest experience. Let it be here stated that he does deliver interesting encounters, challenges preconceived notions and seems always to be thinking of ways to spice up our everyday dining adventures.
The setting is thoughtful, immaculate and sophisticated and you can pop in for a drink at the bar if not intending to dine. The bar and dining areas are suitably partitioned. In the bar you are treated to an excellent view of the kitchen with chefs at work.
What of the food? With a complimentary tantalizer of sesame seaweed & cashews in caramel we settled in to a foodishly frivolous evening of Asian influenced flair. A glass or two of Bayview Farms ‘Orchestration’ Cab Sauv/merlot/franc/malbec/petit verdot 2002 helped us along the way to a first course of “Shag Wok Pot Stickers” filled with wasabi seasoned sea salad & Philadelphia cream cheese – just imagine! A beautiful variation on the dumpling thing.
Lead me into temptation but know that forgiveness will always be available at the end…..Happy Hog, Cantonese crispy skin pork belly on wasabi tomato wafers with Anise, soy & chilli drizzling sauce . What a bamboozling mix but one to be savoured and swooned over. A first night flying fiesta in the newest culinary tabernacle in town, precise, engineered flavours, gentle giants of texture and taste, a myriad of creative visions. All this and more.
To end, a ginger steamed pudding exquisitely emboldened with lime syrup & coffee ice cream. Could you resist this?
Philip Kraal has effectively waved the wand of experience and professional expertise over this new venue and given us all reason to celebrate Oriental influences without too much fried rice and sweet & sour pork as it were.
I’ll be back and it will be soon.
One can only admire Philip Kraal of Le Bon Bolli and Crumpet Club fame for yet again responding with accomplished elan in opening his newest enterprise ‘Bamboozle Oriental Fusion Kitchen & Bar’ in Sumner. A damn fine name if I may say so and as one of the fortunates lucky enough to have managed to get a table on opening night I can tell you that the name says it all.
Philip and his team have created a beautiful, themed getaway complete with authentic rickshaw suspended from the ceiling and mood lighting to introduce you, the diner, to his latest experience. Let it be here stated that he does deliver interesting encounters, challenges preconceived notions and seems always to be thinking of ways to spice up our everyday dining adventures.
The setting is thoughtful, immaculate and sophisticated and you can pop in for a drink at the bar if not intending to dine. The bar and dining areas are suitably partitioned. In the bar you are treated to an excellent view of the kitchen with chefs at work.
What of the food? With a complimentary tantalizer of sesame seaweed & cashews in caramel we settled in to a foodishly frivolous evening of Asian influenced flair. A glass or two of Bayview Farms ‘Orchestration’ Cab Sauv/merlot/franc/malbec/petit verdot 2002 helped us along the way to a first course of “Shag Wok Pot Stickers” filled with wasabi seasoned sea salad & Philadelphia cream cheese – just imagine! A beautiful variation on the dumpling thing.
Lead me into temptation but know that forgiveness will always be available at the end…..Happy Hog, Cantonese crispy skin pork belly on wasabi tomato wafers with Anise, soy & chilli drizzling sauce . What a bamboozling mix but one to be savoured and swooned over. A first night flying fiesta in the newest culinary tabernacle in town, precise, engineered flavours, gentle giants of texture and taste, a myriad of creative visions. All this and more.
To end, a ginger steamed pudding exquisitely emboldened with lime syrup & coffee ice cream. Could you resist this?
Philip Kraal has effectively waved the wand of experience and professional expertise over this new venue and given us all reason to celebrate Oriental influences without too much fried rice and sweet & sour pork as it were.
I’ll be back and it will be soon.
Friday, 19 August 2011
Arabica Cafe in Wellington
Unlike many of the other guests at Arabica in Grey St I had not just staggered out of an office building, lurched along the Quay and burst into this busy coffee cafe opposite the Intercontinental Hotel. No, I had strolled along with grace and presence past the Embassy of Mexico on Featherston Street in search of full strength espresso wizardry when the sight, or was it the aroma, of Arabica stopped me in my tracks. Whilst I may not go so far as to suggest I was in mid-step when this occurred it would be fair to state I was in full possession of my high velocity feet at this point.....hence my ability to stop quickly and appraise the landscape, as urban as it was, and see past the mill & throng of Wellington dominatrixes, gigilos, public servants carrying magnums of champagne, Courier drivers wearing Speedos and middle-aged church ministers with wet comb-overs. Bizarre you might think but we live in unusual times....
Everything is so concentrated in Wellington! In the space of a hundred metres you can see it all and, fortunately, there must be more cafes and restaurants per square kilometre than anywhere else in this outstanding country. What this means is that you are never far from the sustenance needed to get you from one meeting to the next, never far from a decent cut of steak, a chilled SB or, God Be Praised, a room temp Cab Sauv from.......well, you're all so wine savvy you'll know......
Anyway, back to Arabica. Great little bolthole in the heart of the city that has a loyal following. The brightly lit food cabinet batted its soulful, sensual eyes at me as soon as I walked up to the counter, the chocolate caramel slice showing more than enough of itself in public! What was a man to do? Succumb of course - don't we always when confronted by the pleasures of the flesh?
Espresso, choc caramel slice, an ounce of conversation, a pound of observation and a tonne of satisfaction.
Sums it up really. If you're in Wellington and are prepared to make your way through the gauntlet of Pollies, pimps, prostitutes and priests then go for it. Enjoy coffee, cake and conviviality at Arabica.
Everything is so concentrated in Wellington! In the space of a hundred metres you can see it all and, fortunately, there must be more cafes and restaurants per square kilometre than anywhere else in this outstanding country. What this means is that you are never far from the sustenance needed to get you from one meeting to the next, never far from a decent cut of steak, a chilled SB or, God Be Praised, a room temp Cab Sauv from.......well, you're all so wine savvy you'll know......
Anyway, back to Arabica. Great little bolthole in the heart of the city that has a loyal following. The brightly lit food cabinet batted its soulful, sensual eyes at me as soon as I walked up to the counter, the chocolate caramel slice showing more than enough of itself in public! What was a man to do? Succumb of course - don't we always when confronted by the pleasures of the flesh?
Espresso, choc caramel slice, an ounce of conversation, a pound of observation and a tonne of satisfaction.
Sums it up really. If you're in Wellington and are prepared to make your way through the gauntlet of Pollies, pimps, prostitutes and priests then go for it. Enjoy coffee, cake and conviviality at Arabica.
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Restaurant Emile in Toulouse
My cup doth overflow when it comes to fine dining experiences and one of my more memorable recent outings was to the enlightened, esteemed establishment known as Emile’s in central Toulouse. If you’re looking for unexpurgated charisma, lashings of atmosphere and a real sense of local je ne sais quoi in the setting of a very sexy Toulousiane city house in the even sexier Place Saint-Georges then this restaurant should be on your list of places to visit. What’s more, you will find the Maitre ‘D a most entertaining French version of Basil Fawlty but with ‘love’. He will make the ladies feel great and the men will be thoroughly entertained in the ways of French flattery towards their women…..
For all of this it is the food that you will forever remember with joy in your hearts and in the comforting knowledge that fine cuisine lives on in France. We were a party of 4 for lunch in what was a packed house. My companions were regulars and so attracted more than a fair share of attention from the incredibly charming ‘Basil’. This simply added to my enjoyment!
There’s nothing like a well-settled Bordeaux to move you one step closer to nirvana at the table. The 1996 Les Pagodes de Cos from St Estephe did just that, its smooth urbanity gracefully fuelled our frivolity and we ordered from the menu with free and unfettered resolve.
Ravioles de Foie Gras, Crème aux Cepes left me, especially, in no doubt that this was not the work of a first year apprentice. In an elegant bowl the ravioli did sit, afloat in the decadent crème, its presence proudly signalled by the loudspeaker of aromatic confidence. It was clear to me at this moment why Emile’s was so popular amongst the Toulousian food intelligentsia……three pampered, ravishing, pachyglossal parcels of paciferous foreplay.
We sipped on, our normally loud Antipodean voices and happy dispositions seemingly of interest to the mainly reserved French clientele. The others had fish, I had duck - well, it’s almost a requirement in the Canard capital of Europe. The Magret de Canard grille, sauce miel epices was a man-sized portion of moist, very Languedoc-Roussillon duck, surprisingly succulent yet robust and full of a certain continental gaminess that was powerful yet subtle in its presence. Cooked with consistency & to perfection through to the middle, a delicious contribution to my day.
More wine, a dessert and an espresso coffee or two followed and with a tinge of sadness it was time to leave.
Until next time…..
Saturday, 13 August 2011
Gaia Restaurant, Foix, South-Western France
If you are lucky enough to find yourself in that quintessential south-western French town of Foix, little more than an hour by car from Toulouse, it would behove you to visit a snug, unpretentious little restaurant called Gaia. Tucked away in a narrow cobbled street of three storey shuttered village houses, this honest gem not only boasts a transcontinental following but also enjoys fans from countries far and wide.
Accompanied by my gorgeous daughter and two internationally acclaimed wine and food connoisseurs from the Midi Pyrennee region I relished this opportunity to experience the gentle lunchtime fare of Englishman John Player delivered to our table with such glad and gracious tidings by his lovely Australian wife. We’d chosen a quiet day and this allowed us a chance to engage with the owners and to linger over our meals with the everpresence of a bevvy of beautiful local wines, predominated by the much-loved rose style so popular in the region but, of course, including the 2008 Minervois pictured below.
The Plat du Jour, Tagine de poulet au confit de citron et olive verts was a towering feast of flavour, a sensational stack, a soft, creamy cabochon to be savoured and treasured with every precious mouthful. The full gambit of flavours had been well captured in the dish and reflected the care, attention and respect shown to the ingredients during the preparation and cooking stages.
Chef John’s tiny kitchen is open to view and diners can see him at work during the course of their meals, giving an intimate touch of reality to the experience and valuable interactivity.
Tarte au citron may not sound particularly flambouyant in dessert terms but I can assure you that the very homely, non-commercial nature of this beautiful sweet was a melting moment of luscious joy. Exquisite texture, perfectly moist and bursting with the summeriness of the season’s harvest. Gaia and its owners have every reason to celebrate the success of this most excellent petite restaurant. I will revisit when next luxuriating in South-West France!
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