I can see problems with this place. I really wanted to dislike it, purely so I'd never be the one saying "shall we go to Deve?", or "I'd highly recommend Deve". Because, you see, I've no idea how to pronounce it. Deeeeeve? Dev-ay? Dave? Neither really sounds quite right, somehow.
Unfortunately, I'm going to have to get over it, because Deve is really very good (see, it's easier when you write it...). Sunday lunch here provided a startlingly good salade Niçoise, a fat slab of fresh tuna perfectly seared and rosy pink (though warm) inside, and all the attendant bits (olives, green beans, red onion, new potatoes, semi-soft boiled eggs, salad leaves) all in good order. Purists (bores) will harp on about true Niçoise only ever featuring canned tuna, but for my part I much prefer fresh, if it's decent quality and well cooked, as this was.
Very prettily presented it was too, and well-matched with a glass of Mount Dottrel rosé, whose tart strawberry flavours balanced the fattiness of the tuna and the salad dressing nicely. To be honest, the only thing about it that wasn't spot on was the service, which I'm never really that fussed about but here it did grate a little bit, probably because hard work and talent in the kitchen were being blunted by a lack of thought front-of-house. Simple things, like why would you come to take a table's order when the whole party's not there (my other half having nipped across the road for a paper)? And my personal most-hated waiter slip-up, taking away one diner's empty plate whilst the other one is still eating? So rude, so low-rent and the perfect way to spoil an otherwise great lunch.
As for the name, the staff themselves didn't know how to pronouce it. Apparently everyone says it slightly differently. Either way, get yourself down to 'that Brasserie just by Kingsland train station' and you won't be disappointed, especially if someone has a quiet word with the staff in the meantime.
Deve Brasserie
460 New North Road
Kingsland
Auckland
(09) 846 9997
Sunday, 15 February 2009
The Fridge, Kingsland
In the window of the Fridge, a small cafe nestled in Kingsland's little villagey-type main street, you can see all you need to know about this place. To the right of the door, there's a pie cabinet. In that cabinet, there are pies. Heavy, packed full of filling, with well-raised crusts and generally taunting every passer-by.
True, they're $6 apiece, which puts them firmly at the upper end of the pie spectrum. But for this, less than you'll pay for a beer across the road in Neighbourhood, you can get a truly stunning bit of food. I have yet to be tempted to stray from their terrific Mince & Cheese, the cheese in this case being oozing mozzarella, the mince seasoned to perfection and richly flavoured, almost like a bolognese. Not a bit of gristle, jelly or suspiciously glutinous sauce to be seen. This is a handmade pie, made by skilled hands which genuinely care.
If there's a better pie in Auckland, I've not had it yet.
The Fridge
507 New North Road
Kingsland
Auckland
(09) 845 5321
True, they're $6 apiece, which puts them firmly at the upper end of the pie spectrum. But for this, less than you'll pay for a beer across the road in Neighbourhood, you can get a truly stunning bit of food. I have yet to be tempted to stray from their terrific Mince & Cheese, the cheese in this case being oozing mozzarella, the mince seasoned to perfection and richly flavoured, almost like a bolognese. Not a bit of gristle, jelly or suspiciously glutinous sauce to be seen. This is a handmade pie, made by skilled hands which genuinely care.
If there's a better pie in Auckland, I've not had it yet.
The Fridge
507 New North Road
Kingsland
Auckland
(09) 845 5321
Gourmet Pizza Kitchen (GPK), Ponsonby
Everyone has a personal bugbear of one kind or another. My other half, for example, becomes incandescent with rage when the venetian blinds are closed the wrong way up. For my part, I have many of these little foibles, and most of them about food. As a reader of this blog, you'll become intimately acquainted with them as time goes by. The one I'd like to focus on today is the shocking, widespread misuse in New Zealand of the word 'Gourmet'.
It's almost as if there's another meaning to it here. Collins Essential English dictionary defines 'gourmet' with the following meaning: "an expert on good food and drink". Here, however, it seems to mean "Beware: this restaurant/food brand is more expensive than it deserves to be, and justifies the expense through the expansive addition of ingredients not commonly found in this cuisine." Hence 'Gourmet' Pies being anything other than the basic fillings. 'Gourmet' pizza often featuring jams, fruit, sweet chilli sauce and so on. I've come to hate and distrust the word - rarely have I seen anything labelled as 'gourmet' at all likely to be ordered by anyone even remotely deserving of the description themselves.
Which is why I think that, despite being known more as 'GPK' recently, the Gourmet Pizza Kitchen needs to change its name.
I have to confess, given the existence of that hated word on on the signage outside, I sat down to eat here with all the enthusiasm of a turkey being led to the Christmas dinner table. One sweep of the menu, however, showed my prejudice to be unfounded in this case - a set of tremendous-sounding pizzas, with the sort of toppings that actually worked together! What a relief! No bizarre pairings of lime-marinated chicken with peaches here, oh no. Agonising though the decision was, I went for a Sicilian-sounding beast of a pizza, with salami, anchovies, capers and so on, and I was not disappointed.
The base, and the sauce were I think what made it. The former was crisp, light and supple, soaking up just enough of the richly herbed, long-reduced sauce, but without disintegrating. The toppings were sparingly used, their quality showing through in bold, assertive flavours without the need to be loaded on. I should apologise to my dining companions at this point: I was silent from the moment this arrived in front of me to the last mouthful. Can't talk: eating.
The only thing, in fact, that could distract me from the task in hand was a great glass of Gewurztraminer (from precisely where I forget, save that it was local-ish), crisp and floral to combat the afternoon heat, powerfully flavoured enough to accompany the pizza. What a lunch.
So there you have it - a terrific pizza, beating all others New Zealand has come up with so far hands down. But guys, that word just makes you sound like every other illiterate also-ran in the phone book.
Gourmet Pizza Kitchen (GPK)
262 Ponsonby Road
Ponsonby
Auckland
(09) 360 1113
It's almost as if there's another meaning to it here. Collins Essential English dictionary defines 'gourmet' with the following meaning: "an expert on good food and drink". Here, however, it seems to mean "Beware: this restaurant/food brand is more expensive than it deserves to be, and justifies the expense through the expansive addition of ingredients not commonly found in this cuisine." Hence 'Gourmet' Pies being anything other than the basic fillings. 'Gourmet' pizza often featuring jams, fruit, sweet chilli sauce and so on. I've come to hate and distrust the word - rarely have I seen anything labelled as 'gourmet' at all likely to be ordered by anyone even remotely deserving of the description themselves.
Which is why I think that, despite being known more as 'GPK' recently, the Gourmet Pizza Kitchen needs to change its name.
I have to confess, given the existence of that hated word on on the signage outside, I sat down to eat here with all the enthusiasm of a turkey being led to the Christmas dinner table. One sweep of the menu, however, showed my prejudice to be unfounded in this case - a set of tremendous-sounding pizzas, with the sort of toppings that actually worked together! What a relief! No bizarre pairings of lime-marinated chicken with peaches here, oh no. Agonising though the decision was, I went for a Sicilian-sounding beast of a pizza, with salami, anchovies, capers and so on, and I was not disappointed.
The base, and the sauce were I think what made it. The former was crisp, light and supple, soaking up just enough of the richly herbed, long-reduced sauce, but without disintegrating. The toppings were sparingly used, their quality showing through in bold, assertive flavours without the need to be loaded on. I should apologise to my dining companions at this point: I was silent from the moment this arrived in front of me to the last mouthful. Can't talk: eating.
The only thing, in fact, that could distract me from the task in hand was a great glass of Gewurztraminer (from precisely where I forget, save that it was local-ish), crisp and floral to combat the afternoon heat, powerfully flavoured enough to accompany the pizza. What a lunch.
So there you have it - a terrific pizza, beating all others New Zealand has come up with so far hands down. But guys, that word just makes you sound like every other illiterate also-ran in the phone book.
Gourmet Pizza Kitchen (GPK)
262 Ponsonby Road
Ponsonby
Auckland
(09) 360 1113
Handmade Burgers, Kingsland
Two things immediately stand out about Handmade Burgers. Firstly, there's a kind of drive-thru arrangement on the forecourt, so I think in the mornings you can, er, drive through it and pick up a coffee on the way. Nice idea, not sure about it in practice. Secondly, the look and feel of it is nicely styled, but possibly in the way grown-ups think is down with the 'youth'. Being more the former than the latter, it's hard for me to judge.
Anyway, all in all it looks pretty quirky, in a good way. Seems cool enough.
The menu, though, is a bit of a challenge. There's a train of thought somewhere in the catering industry which seems to think that a dish is not a dish until it has at least 15 components all screaming for attention, and unfortunately Handmade Burgers ploughs this field like you would not believe. The descriptions sound innocuous enough, until you read the small print that explains that when they say 'salad', they mean red onion, spring onion, capsicum, cucumber, tomato, and a ton of iceberg lettuce. Too much, guys, especially when you seem incapable of removing any of these bits when asked.
My other problem with Handmade is simpler. Every single burger on their menu comes with plum sauce. Seriously. Plum sauce. So your basic cheeseburger comes with plum sauce by default. I tried this, just for fun, and it turns out it's not actually the tangy plum sauce as you'd find in a Chinese supermarket, but more like a sickly sweet kind of jam. JAM. On my cheeseburger.
A daring, forward thinking new taste sensation? No, vile. Utterly, utterly vile.
This was a shame, because the burger itself (or patty, if you like) was actually pretty good. Overcooked for my taste, but far from ruined, and still showing loads of flavour and decent quality beef too. The bun was as it should be - soft, white, sesame seeds, simple.
So on the whole, Handmade Burgers is a bit of a saddening experience. Buried in here somewhere are the makings of a great burger bar - good basic building blocks, some great sounding burger combinations, but it's ruined by crap, over-fussy salad garnishes and that bloody jam they insist on putting on everything. I will be going again, but I'll be ordering more carefully next time, and if the grill monkey even looks at that jam pot...
Handmade Burgers
455 New North Road,
Kingsland
Auckland
(09) 849 4590
Anyway, all in all it looks pretty quirky, in a good way. Seems cool enough.
The menu, though, is a bit of a challenge. There's a train of thought somewhere in the catering industry which seems to think that a dish is not a dish until it has at least 15 components all screaming for attention, and unfortunately Handmade Burgers ploughs this field like you would not believe. The descriptions sound innocuous enough, until you read the small print that explains that when they say 'salad', they mean red onion, spring onion, capsicum, cucumber, tomato, and a ton of iceberg lettuce. Too much, guys, especially when you seem incapable of removing any of these bits when asked.
My other problem with Handmade is simpler. Every single burger on their menu comes with plum sauce. Seriously. Plum sauce. So your basic cheeseburger comes with plum sauce by default. I tried this, just for fun, and it turns out it's not actually the tangy plum sauce as you'd find in a Chinese supermarket, but more like a sickly sweet kind of jam. JAM. On my cheeseburger.
A daring, forward thinking new taste sensation? No, vile. Utterly, utterly vile.
This was a shame, because the burger itself (or patty, if you like) was actually pretty good. Overcooked for my taste, but far from ruined, and still showing loads of flavour and decent quality beef too. The bun was as it should be - soft, white, sesame seeds, simple.
So on the whole, Handmade Burgers is a bit of a saddening experience. Buried in here somewhere are the makings of a great burger bar - good basic building blocks, some great sounding burger combinations, but it's ruined by crap, over-fussy salad garnishes and that bloody jam they insist on putting on everything. I will be going again, but I'll be ordering more carefully next time, and if the grill monkey even looks at that jam pot...
Handmade Burgers
455 New North Road,
Kingsland
Auckland
(09) 849 4590
Burger Fuel, Ponsonby
At the risk of sounding too much like an armchair critic, which of course I suppose I am, it's always seemed weird to me how difficult it seems to be to get something as simple as a burger right. When it comes to more challenging culinary tasks, I can understand how years of training and no small amount of natural ability are prerequisites - turning out a hundred perfect individual Boeuf en Croute every night, for example, or perhaps deftly spinning caramelised sugar into stunning shapes, nets and shards to decorate desserts.
Burgers, though: not hard. Bun. Burger (what New Zealanders call a 'patty'). Limited salad. Relish. Mustard. Additional garnishes: cheese, mushroom, bacon, pickles and yes, over here you may also include fried eggs and beetroot. The basics, though, are pretty simple.
Burger Fuel fail on every single point. Let's go through them one by one, as the crushing disappointment I experienced here needs to be outlined in full.
The Bun
The only word to do this justice is 'strange'. Strange that anyone would see this bun as fit for consumption, let alone suitable for housing a burger. Dry, oddly flat, brown (brown bread for burgers? WTF??), with an unusual earthy, cardboardy flavour. Horrible.
The Burger (or 'Patty', if you prefer)
Extraordinarily wide and weirdly thin, about 3-4mm at its thickest. Low-grade meat, cooked until grey. Did they boil this first?? Any flavour it might have once had has long since departed.
Sauces
Thin smear of ketchup, massive dollop of sweet, cloying, luminous yellow mustard, which turns out to be the dominant flavour of the whole affair. Took days to get the smell off my fingers.
Pickles
Gherkins x 2 slices. Actually not that bad, but rather than lifting the overall experience, served to highlight how appalling the rest of it was.
Decent chips failed to improve the mood. As for the decor, it's a bit like being in a (real) car mechanic's shop, all the fake 50s retro schtick having dated badly and in sore need of a rework. Failing that, a quick wipe with a damp cloth wouldn't go amiss. Large windows opening onto the street let in legions of flies, along with pigeons and exhaust fumes, through which you can disconsolately peer, wishing fervently that you were anywhere but here.
Quite simply, the most awful place I've eaten in since being in New Zealand. And that includes Wendy's.
Burgers, though: not hard. Bun. Burger (what New Zealanders call a 'patty'). Limited salad. Relish. Mustard. Additional garnishes: cheese, mushroom, bacon, pickles and yes, over here you may also include fried eggs and beetroot. The basics, though, are pretty simple.
Burger Fuel fail on every single point. Let's go through them one by one, as the crushing disappointment I experienced here needs to be outlined in full.
The Bun
The only word to do this justice is 'strange'. Strange that anyone would see this bun as fit for consumption, let alone suitable for housing a burger. Dry, oddly flat, brown (brown bread for burgers? WTF??), with an unusual earthy, cardboardy flavour. Horrible.
The Burger (or 'Patty', if you prefer)
Extraordinarily wide and weirdly thin, about 3-4mm at its thickest. Low-grade meat, cooked until grey. Did they boil this first?? Any flavour it might have once had has long since departed.
Sauces
Thin smear of ketchup, massive dollop of sweet, cloying, luminous yellow mustard, which turns out to be the dominant flavour of the whole affair. Took days to get the smell off my fingers.
Pickles
Gherkins x 2 slices. Actually not that bad, but rather than lifting the overall experience, served to highlight how appalling the rest of it was.
Decent chips failed to improve the mood. As for the decor, it's a bit like being in a (real) car mechanic's shop, all the fake 50s retro schtick having dated badly and in sore need of a rework. Failing that, a quick wipe with a damp cloth wouldn't go amiss. Large windows opening onto the street let in legions of flies, along with pigeons and exhaust fumes, through which you can disconsolately peer, wishing fervently that you were anywhere but here.
Quite simply, the most awful place I've eaten in since being in New Zealand. And that includes Wendy's.
Saturday, 14 February 2009
Canton Café, Kingsland
Apparently this is a bit of a legendary place - something that only became apparent to us (dining here as part of a friend's birthday celebrations) when we got there. Rammed to the gills, with a crowd of expectant chancers milling around outside with the smokers, its reputation was pretty clear. The Canton Café is a Cantonese restaurant of the unpretentious, bustling, noisy variety, probably not somewhere I'd take the missus for an intimate 'date', but when there's a few of you it's terrific.
It's BYO too, and with a friendly local Glengarry a few doors down you can't go far wrong. Food-wise, the portions are of the upturned dustbin lid variety, so don't do what we did and order one each to share. After the fifth huge plate piled high with food landed on the table it was starting to get a little ridiculous, but who cares? It's all fantastic, all very decently priced, so what the hell, bring it on. I'll roll home.
As for the food itself, what I can remember of the endless procession of dishes were the black chilli chicken (darkly spicy and dripping in a powerful sauce) and crispy pork belly (bite-sized chunks of long-cooked belly with crisp, crunchy crackling on each). The rest is a blur of beef, chicken, prawns, ginger, rice, plum sauce, chilli, squid, ribs, more rice, cashews, black beans... need I go on?
All in all, if you're into good food and fancy a bit of a riotous evening out whilst eating more than you ever thought possible, give this place a call - booking is essential pretty much every night of the week.
Canton Café
477 New North Road
Kingland
Auckland
(09) 846 7888
It's BYO too, and with a friendly local Glengarry a few doors down you can't go far wrong. Food-wise, the portions are of the upturned dustbin lid variety, so don't do what we did and order one each to share. After the fifth huge plate piled high with food landed on the table it was starting to get a little ridiculous, but who cares? It's all fantastic, all very decently priced, so what the hell, bring it on. I'll roll home.
As for the food itself, what I can remember of the endless procession of dishes were the black chilli chicken (darkly spicy and dripping in a powerful sauce) and crispy pork belly (bite-sized chunks of long-cooked belly with crisp, crunchy crackling on each). The rest is a blur of beef, chicken, prawns, ginger, rice, plum sauce, chilli, squid, ribs, more rice, cashews, black beans... need I go on?
All in all, if you're into good food and fancy a bit of a riotous evening out whilst eating more than you ever thought possible, give this place a call - booking is essential pretty much every night of the week.
Canton Café
477 New North Road
Kingland
Auckland
(09) 846 7888
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
Black Barn Bistro, Havelock North, Hawke's Bay
So, on my fifth post, I've already broken the self-imposed rules of this blog. The Black Barn is emphatically not in Auckland, being a good five hours' drive south, so although I suppose you could make it there and back for lunch at a stretch, I wouldn't advise it. I did consider not writing about this visit, but frankly it was good enough to break a rule or two, and by my reckoning this place could teach a number of restaurants around the world a thing or two about value, service and so on.
A bit of context. The Black Barn is a winery, farmers' market, bistro and (occasionally) concert venue situated on Te Mata road, just south of Havelock North. As a winery, it turns out very small quantities of smart, elegant wines with a touch of French style, including the best sparkling wine I've had from NZ so far, beating Pelorus, the Lindauers and so on hands down. Soft, rich and refined, with a full palate of citrus and stone fruit, it's got those slightly mushroomy, yeasty tones reminsicent of toasted coconut that can only really develop in a vintage (which it is, despite no mention on the label) with a bit of bottle age. All this for not a lot of dollars at all.
The rest of the wines are similarly good, and as you might expect have pride of place on the Bistro's menu. The Bistro itself was part of the natural, organic development of the Black Barn site, and on the many sunny days Hawke's Bay enjoys, they serve lunch in the sunken courtyard outside. This has to be one of the most gorgeous places I've eaten; with views stretching out into the vineyards on three sides, and shade provided by vines curling up and over the courtyard, it's pretty stunning.
Service is relaxed, efficient and friendly with a touch of restraint. Not dissimilar to London's River Café, I reckon (where, contrary to some reviews, I actually enjoyed really good service). All this, though, serves only to support the main event - what comes out of the kitchen.
I HATE food blogs where the authors studiously photograph each course and post the resultant shots on their reviews. It's vulgar, and apart from anything else the sight of some spod photographing their meal in a restaurant is just all kinds of wrong, but in the spirit of breaking
my own rules, here's my main course - a whacking great slab of pork belly, juicy and meltingly tender, with all the right kind of spices and a stunning lychee/chilli salsa on the side with enough acidity and chilli kick to lighten the deeper flavours of the pork. Perched atop all this was a single raviolo, full of delicately flavoured pork and moistened with a little delicate, soy-spiced broth.
Pretty much the best dish I've had in quite some time. Alongside this was a glass of their superb Pinot Gris, rich enough to stand up to the punchy flavours of the food but still offering refreshing crispness on this hot afternoon.
Dessert-wise you're spoilt for choice, and so the kitchen very obligingly offers a tasting platter featuring a miniature version of each one, which personally I think every decent restaurant should do. Neatly lined up, and very prettily turned out indeed, were a very serviceable crème brûlée, a terrific lemon semifreddo, an intriguingly perfumed lemon jelly, a lemon tart with a pink 'wig' of candy floss, and a tiny black forest cake accompanied by a swirl of kirsch-scented cream. Absolutely tremendous, every one.
My only disappointment in the whole experience was that our plans for the afternoon prevented us from staying there til sunset, working through their very tempting wine list. Rumour has it they're planting Tempranillo and a few more aromatic whites this year, so I'll be looking out for those next season.
And we'll be back in February next year, having selected this as the venue for our wedding reception.
A bit of context. The Black Barn is a winery, farmers' market, bistro and (occasionally) concert venue situated on Te Mata road, just south of Havelock North. As a winery, it turns out very small quantities of smart, elegant wines with a touch of French style, including the best sparkling wine I've had from NZ so far, beating Pelorus, the Lindauers and so on hands down. Soft, rich and refined, with a full palate of citrus and stone fruit, it's got those slightly mushroomy, yeasty tones reminsicent of toasted coconut that can only really develop in a vintage (which it is, despite no mention on the label) with a bit of bottle age. All this for not a lot of dollars at all.
The rest of the wines are similarly good, and as you might expect have pride of place on the Bistro's menu. The Bistro itself was part of the natural, organic development of the Black Barn site, and on the many sunny days Hawke's Bay enjoys, they serve lunch in the sunken courtyard outside. This has to be one of the most gorgeous places I've eaten; with views stretching out into the vineyards on three sides, and shade provided by vines curling up and over the courtyard, it's pretty stunning.
Service is relaxed, efficient and friendly with a touch of restraint. Not dissimilar to London's River Café, I reckon (where, contrary to some reviews, I actually enjoyed really good service). All this, though, serves only to support the main event - what comes out of the kitchen.
I HATE food blogs where the authors studiously photograph each course and post the resultant shots on their reviews. It's vulgar, and apart from anything else the sight of some spod photographing their meal in a restaurant is just all kinds of wrong, but in the spirit of breaking
my own rules, here's my main course - a whacking great slab of pork belly, juicy and meltingly tender, with all the right kind of spices and a stunning lychee/chilli salsa on the side with enough acidity and chilli kick to lighten the deeper flavours of the pork. Perched atop all this was a single raviolo, full of delicately flavoured pork and moistened with a little delicate, soy-spiced broth.Pretty much the best dish I've had in quite some time. Alongside this was a glass of their superb Pinot Gris, rich enough to stand up to the punchy flavours of the food but still offering refreshing crispness on this hot afternoon.
Dessert-wise you're spoilt for choice, and so the kitchen very obligingly offers a tasting platter featuring a miniature version of each one, which personally I think every decent restaurant should do. Neatly lined up, and very prettily turned out indeed, were a very serviceable crème brûlée, a terrific lemon semifreddo, an intriguingly perfumed lemon jelly, a lemon tart with a pink 'wig' of candy floss, and a tiny black forest cake accompanied by a swirl of kirsch-scented cream. Absolutely tremendous, every one.
My only disappointment in the whole experience was that our plans for the afternoon prevented us from staying there til sunset, working through their very tempting wine list. Rumour has it they're planting Tempranillo and a few more aromatic whites this year, so I'll be looking out for those next season.
And we'll be back in February next year, having selected this as the venue for our wedding reception.
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