Instead of continuing north along Fitzgerald Avenue at the Kilmore St intersection I turned left toward the quiet, ghostliness of the central city. I was on my way from Sumner to Merivale and had heard of a little coffee stop on Madras St.
A right turn at Madras and, Voila! I was parked outside one of the city’s newest micro-cafes, The Jungle Cup on the corner of Salisbury and Madras.
The owners and operators of this portacom, plastic & paint pop-up are clearly looking ahead to the time when the builders and labourers will be grafting away in the immediate vicinity, hammering and banging, sawing and stapling their way from clock-on to morning tea, desperate for a cold drink, a coffee, a pie, sausage roll or even a salad and chips!
Let’s be perfectly honest with ourselves and concede that Christchurch is about to become the country’s biggest and busiest building site, with utes, trucks, vans and trailers cruising the streets, cranes criss-crossing the skyline and power tools of all shapes, sizes and kinds cutting through the tranquillity that now doth prevail. And so it must be if we are ever to move forward.....despite the efforts of EQC and many insurance companies to move slower than the pace of steam engines on their last legs.....
The Jungle Cup is perfectly placed to take advantage of the thirsty, hungry rush when it comes.
A smoked salmon bagel with a striking burst of bright orange carrot, glistening red tomato and a generous layering of luscious green was accompanied by a 4 bean salad, its slightly chilled self a delight on such a warm day. I sipped an Earl Grey tea in a paper cup underneath a green umbrella, contemplated the abstract artwork on the corrugated iron wall in front of me and nibbled at my daily bread. This seemed such a meditative space to be in, so unlike the city of old, so peaceful and uncomplicated - the simple, everyday fare altogether appropriate for the situation.
This little pit-stop might just be your cup of tea if you like gourmet sausage rolls (Moroccan Lamb for example), salads and/or interesting coffee-break cakes and slices. The venue is surely fascinating creativity on a tight budget but like everything in our ever-changing urban landscape, worth looking at on your way past.....
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
Upshot Coffee
The exhilarating, body-shaking aroma of freshly roasted coffee beans is a far cry from all those years ago when chicory essence was our staple drinking coffee ingredient! Stop your Draft horse and dray at 131 Bridle Path Rd in Heathcote, the area’s newest caffeine house, and inhale deeply. Feast your lusty eyes on the very quintessence of pop-up cafes, a rustic red shipping container, well fashioned to accommodate the necessary machinery, utensils and impliments entirely for your (the customer’s) satisfaction.
I neighed and whinnied like the horses in the adjoining riding school as I met the strong bolt of coffee head on and gobbled a steaming, fresh blueberry muffin which was remarkably similar in size to a Fiat Bambina. In fact, if you like muffins then this is the place for you as the menu consists in its entirety of, yes, you guessed it, muffins!
I just love the pioneering spirit that is manifested in makeshift al fresco cafe furniture, the creative use of old twentieth century wooden school desks, cable spools and far from perfect chairs. There’s something excitingly playful and endearing about it all; perhaps it makes the “going for a coffee” that much more interesting and memorable. The pop-up, junk recycle mentality has every potential to become an iconic Kiwi ‘invention’, a worldwide trend perhaps. Imagine a rough and ready pop-up container cafe in London or Paris. I could easily see such a thing becoming instantly fashionable. Enjoy its exclusivity here in Christchurch while you can and be assured that Upshot Coffee in Heathcote cuts to the very fundamental core of this outstanding, innovative new ‘style’. Believe it or not – you heard it here first!
I neighed and whinnied like the horses in the adjoining riding school as I met the strong bolt of coffee head on and gobbled a steaming, fresh blueberry muffin which was remarkably similar in size to a Fiat Bambina. In fact, if you like muffins then this is the place for you as the menu consists in its entirety of, yes, you guessed it, muffins!
I just love the pioneering spirit that is manifested in makeshift al fresco cafe furniture, the creative use of old twentieth century wooden school desks, cable spools and far from perfect chairs. There’s something excitingly playful and endearing about it all; perhaps it makes the “going for a coffee” that much more interesting and memorable. The pop-up, junk recycle mentality has every potential to become an iconic Kiwi ‘invention’, a worldwide trend perhaps. Imagine a rough and ready pop-up container cafe in London or Paris. I could easily see such a thing becoming instantly fashionable. Enjoy its exclusivity here in Christchurch while you can and be assured that Upshot Coffee in Heathcote cuts to the very fundamental core of this outstanding, innovative new ‘style’. Believe it or not – you heard it here first!
Botswana Butchery - Auckland Waterfront
They came and went in waves, surging along the Fullers ferry accessway before my very eyes. I was seated in pandiculated resplendence, infusing the best of Auckland’s waterside attractions, quietly people watching on a comfortable, elegant, cushion-cluttered couch. Of course, there was purpose in my seeming repose as I was a guest of this city’s newest gastronomic enterprise and was planning to eat, and eat well. The Botswana Butchery has gently seduced us all in recent years in Queenstown and Wanaka, always exhibiting sound touches of elegance, purveying exceptional quality in its exquisite produce and pandering to the tastebuds of discerning carnivores.
In the beautiful, bare-faced, deceitfully warm midday sun I felt I had the world at my fingertips as I sipped a glass of chilled Gibbston Valley Pinot Gris. In fact ‘The World’ was in port at the time and no more than 100 metres from where I was sitting, its well-heeled passengers(or should that be owners)sure to be occupying some of the tables inside the restaurant.
I had time to kill but my first dish, Sashimi of King Salmon. Hapuka Belly & Snapper with Wasabi, Soy Sauce and Pickled Ginger & Harissa sauce wasn’t long in arriving and presented as an effusive, kaleidoscopic burst of freshness, its brilliant natural colours complementing the succulent and satisfying slices from the sea. The pickled ginger & harissa sauce was full flavoured and pounced on the palate with each astounding, tingling, appetizing droplet.
My waiter Kieran, formerly from Aikmans in Christchurch, was well organised, efficient and amicable, at the ready with water refills and to satisfy my vinous demands. This faultless level of professionalism extended, I’m sure, to others in the Butchery’s employ as I was able to observe and hear the courteous and respectful interactions between the Maitre D’ and prospective diners at the nearby entrance.
A 450g ribeye on the bone from an establishment as well regarded as this must meet one’s expectations to 100%. Whilst I concede the cut was a superlative beast in anyone’s estimation, and certainly in mine, it was treated with less than its full respectful entitlement by being offered to me cooked beyond the requested rare to medium. This may well have been a teething problem as the restaurant had been open a mere seven days but cooking such a delicious piece of beef to perfection (or to the diner’s taste) is a non-negotiable matter, in my view. I do not cherish a medium+ treatment of fine meat but am, after all, a forgiving man who understands that running a restaurant is not an easy endeavour. Fortunately I had vicariously harvested grapes on Waiheke island at the Man O’ War winery and was drinking a glass or two of their fine syrah with its smooth, silky complexities and agreeably persuasive manner. I was happy enough......
There’s little doubt that many of us will have fond memories of the old Cin Cin on Quay dating back many years but the emergence of the Botswana Butchery on the same site and in the same premises is a move forward. I have every confidence that the BB will embed itself very quickly into the culinary psyche of Aucklanders and visitors to the city alike but they will need to be vigilant and must sweat the small stuff until all is 100%. Their reputation depends on it. I will return to feast again before the end of winter and I am truly hoping my steak is absolutely perfect. It’s non-negotiable.
In the beautiful, bare-faced, deceitfully warm midday sun I felt I had the world at my fingertips as I sipped a glass of chilled Gibbston Valley Pinot Gris. In fact ‘The World’ was in port at the time and no more than 100 metres from where I was sitting, its well-heeled passengers(or should that be owners)sure to be occupying some of the tables inside the restaurant.
I had time to kill but my first dish, Sashimi of King Salmon. Hapuka Belly & Snapper with Wasabi, Soy Sauce and Pickled Ginger & Harissa sauce wasn’t long in arriving and presented as an effusive, kaleidoscopic burst of freshness, its brilliant natural colours complementing the succulent and satisfying slices from the sea. The pickled ginger & harissa sauce was full flavoured and pounced on the palate with each astounding, tingling, appetizing droplet.
My waiter Kieran, formerly from Aikmans in Christchurch, was well organised, efficient and amicable, at the ready with water refills and to satisfy my vinous demands. This faultless level of professionalism extended, I’m sure, to others in the Butchery’s employ as I was able to observe and hear the courteous and respectful interactions between the Maitre D’ and prospective diners at the nearby entrance.
A 450g ribeye on the bone from an establishment as well regarded as this must meet one’s expectations to 100%. Whilst I concede the cut was a superlative beast in anyone’s estimation, and certainly in mine, it was treated with less than its full respectful entitlement by being offered to me cooked beyond the requested rare to medium. This may well have been a teething problem as the restaurant had been open a mere seven days but cooking such a delicious piece of beef to perfection (or to the diner’s taste) is a non-negotiable matter, in my view. I do not cherish a medium+ treatment of fine meat but am, after all, a forgiving man who understands that running a restaurant is not an easy endeavour. Fortunately I had vicariously harvested grapes on Waiheke island at the Man O’ War winery and was drinking a glass or two of their fine syrah with its smooth, silky complexities and agreeably persuasive manner. I was happy enough......
There’s little doubt that many of us will have fond memories of the old Cin Cin on Quay dating back many years but the emergence of the Botswana Butchery on the same site and in the same premises is a move forward. I have every confidence that the BB will embed itself very quickly into the culinary psyche of Aucklanders and visitors to the city alike but they will need to be vigilant and must sweat the small stuff until all is 100%. Their reputation depends on it. I will return to feast again before the end of winter and I am truly hoping my steak is absolutely perfect. It’s non-negotiable.
Pepperberry Cafe
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....
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....
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.
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