Tuesday February 13
After a magical morning spent sailing on the 47-ft. yacht Manutara (as we were the only passengers, our captain gave us the helm for most of the trip), and our afternoon swim at the bathing beach (temperature tolerable in six inches of the surface, ice cold below), we chose a patio table at Bully Hayes to further enjoy the blue skies and view over the long harbor of Akaroa.*
And what better to enjoy them with than a 2005 Akaroa Harbour Chardonnay? It was nice and varietal, but also had that fruitiness that New Zealand wines are famous for. And we were set on having seafood, starting with the Seafood Platter: a large prawn, a crayfish (normal-sized, not a Kaikoura giant, above), one steamed and four smoked mussels, smoked scallops, some squid, and a little pot of creamed seviche.
On our sailing trip, we had seen the sea pools in which Akaroa salmon is farmed, so we ordered it here. It came as two sides of a steak with the center bones removed, basted with "Mediterranean" pesto (green and herby, but not entirely basil), served with a "tart" of potatoes on polenta, and dusted with bell-pepper confetti. Also tasty was grilled groper (apparently the same as grouper, which is NOT the same as most Atlantic grouper, but what the hell), served in a lime cream sauce with tiny new potatoes and a confetti (the chef must like them) of cucumber with tiny pink shrimp.
After a coffee, we walked over to the Akaroa Cine-café (two theaters, 16 seats apiece; spaghetti bolognese a bargain if you buy a movie ticket) and saw a good French comedy, "Hors de Prix" ("Priceless"). Maybe there are significant French aspects to Akaroa after all.
*Courtesy of the Department of Redundancy Department. Guess what Aka-roa means.
Monday, February 25, 2008
C'est la Vie, Akaroa
C'est la Vie, Akaroa
Tuesday February 12
We came over the mountains to Akaroa, "the French Village," which the French thought they'd bought in 1840 - but when their boatload of settlers turned up, they were met by Her Majesty's Ship Britomart and the news that New Zealand was British. Many of the French couldn't face the trip back, so they settled here anyway. Today little seems left of their culture except for street names like "Rue Jolie," the Tricouleur on its flagpole in the center of town (the Union Jack still flies at Britomart Point), and C'est la Vie, which says on its facade that it's "au bout du monde."
It's a tiny little restaurant, tables jammed in, many for sharing, and a myriad notes and compliments from friends and customers scrawled all over the walls, pictures, slightly dusty decor, and even on the ceiling. Our hostess flicked an embroidered linen cloth onto our table, and said that the house only offered what was on the chalkboards just outside the restaurant's door. Luckily it was a nice night, and the door was often propped open, for what she called "C'est la Vie air-conditioning."
On her advice, we ordered a 2006 Mt. Difficulty Pinot Noir, whose beautiful structure showed what Pinot Noir is all about. Pinots are also good with both red meat and seafood, and we were resolved on both. But our first starter was really neither: escargots in a deep brown buttery sauce, lavished with garlic of course, but also mushrooms. It was served with doorstop-sized chunks of brown bread for soaking up the sauce, a thoughtful touch. We also had scallops in a creamy St.-Jacques-style sauce with mushrooms (the chef was in a mushroom mood that night - we could see his hands tossing them in a saucepan in the kitchen), this time with a mound of white rice for sauce soakage.
The mains took the meal to a yet higher level. A perfectly-cooked fillet of beef San Marino was topped with spinach and blue cheese, and came with scalloped potatoes. The venison special was a fan of medium-rare slices in a creamy sauce with various wild forest mushrooms (again, the chef's idée fixe), with perfect puffed potatoes, spiced pear, and a blackberry and juniper sauce. Another contender for our "best venison in New Zealand" prize.
At the end, our hostess gave Holt a magic marker and allowed him to climb up on a chair ("not everybody is tall enough") to draw a small heart with "H+B" on the ceiling. Go to C'est la Vie and look for it - it's worth it.
Tuesday February 12
We came over the mountains to Akaroa, "the French Village," which the French thought they'd bought in 1840 - but when their boatload of settlers turned up, they were met by Her Majesty's Ship Britomart and the news that New Zealand was British. Many of the French couldn't face the trip back, so they settled here anyway. Today little seems left of their culture except for street names like "Rue Jolie," the Tricouleur on its flagpole in the center of town (the Union Jack still flies at Britomart Point), and C'est la Vie, which says on its facade that it's "au bout du monde."
It's a tiny little restaurant, tables jammed in, many for sharing, and a myriad notes and compliments from friends and customers scrawled all over the walls, pictures, slightly dusty decor, and even on the ceiling. Our hostess flicked an embroidered linen cloth onto our table, and said that the house only offered what was on the chalkboards just outside the restaurant's door. Luckily it was a nice night, and the door was often propped open, for what she called "C'est la Vie air-conditioning."
On her advice, we ordered a 2006 Mt. Difficulty Pinot Noir, whose beautiful structure showed what Pinot Noir is all about. Pinots are also good with both red meat and seafood, and we were resolved on both. But our first starter was really neither: escargots in a deep brown buttery sauce, lavished with garlic of course, but also mushrooms. It was served with doorstop-sized chunks of brown bread for soaking up the sauce, a thoughtful touch. We also had scallops in a creamy St.-Jacques-style sauce with mushrooms (the chef was in a mushroom mood that night - we could see his hands tossing them in a saucepan in the kitchen), this time with a mound of white rice for sauce soakage.
The mains took the meal to a yet higher level. A perfectly-cooked fillet of beef San Marino was topped with spinach and blue cheese, and came with scalloped potatoes. The venison special was a fan of medium-rare slices in a creamy sauce with various wild forest mushrooms (again, the chef's idée fixe), with perfect puffed potatoes, spiced pear, and a blackberry and juniper sauce. Another contender for our "best venison in New Zealand" prize.
At the end, our hostess gave Holt a magic marker and allowed him to climb up on a chair ("not everybody is tall enough") to draw a small heart with "H+B" on the ceiling. Go to C'est la Vie and look for it - it's worth it.
Strawberry Fare, Christchurch
Strawberry Fare, Christchurch
Monday February 11
Today we went on a winery tour through the Waipara Valley, starting at the new Mud House (south), a big Napa-style place where we tasted wines accompanied by a lunch of hors d'oeuvres; then to Torlesse, where the winemaker, Kym Rayner, apparently wanted us to sample right through all his available stock; on to Waipara Springs, a quiet place with a pleasant garden; and finally to our favorite, Pegasus Bay, with its fabulous wines matched by beautiful gardens and elegant, quirky decor. It started raining there, and what was pleasant mist in those gardens became a downpour in Christchurch.
When it's raining and mucky and you're a little sloshy from tasting wine all day, dinner should not be too complicated. So we stopped at Strawberry Fare, a place we had walked past on the first day we arrived because Lonely Planet touted its desserts, and we thought it was a dessert place only. (Okay, we misread.) Now it was open and warm and busy on a rainy Monday night, and what's more it was only a block from where we were staying.
Though we'd had four or five tastes at each winery (eight at Torlesse, including an amazing port) and we don't spit, we still had room for a bottle of Mud House (the original Marlborough, not Waipara) Chardonnay 2007. But we ate pretty lightly. There was a "Salade Niçoise" - no lettuce, but a couple of well-marinated and grilled fresh tuna slices piled on top of green beans, little potatoes, tomatoes, olives and onions. Also a duck leg confit in a dark sauce redolent of five-spice, with a potato gallette and a very tasty spiced plum. A little side salad was dressed with sweet rice vinegar to continue the Asian theme.
We watched the desserts go past, and they looked truly magnificent: elaborately composed, of various luscious ingredients, on big presentation plates. Maybe next time we're in Christchurch.
Monday February 11
Today we went on a winery tour through the Waipara Valley, starting at the new Mud House (south), a big Napa-style place where we tasted wines accompanied by a lunch of hors d'oeuvres; then to Torlesse, where the winemaker, Kym Rayner, apparently wanted us to sample right through all his available stock; on to Waipara Springs, a quiet place with a pleasant garden; and finally to our favorite, Pegasus Bay, with its fabulous wines matched by beautiful gardens and elegant, quirky decor. It started raining there, and what was pleasant mist in those gardens became a downpour in Christchurch.
When it's raining and mucky and you're a little sloshy from tasting wine all day, dinner should not be too complicated. So we stopped at Strawberry Fare, a place we had walked past on the first day we arrived because Lonely Planet touted its desserts, and we thought it was a dessert place only. (Okay, we misread.) Now it was open and warm and busy on a rainy Monday night, and what's more it was only a block from where we were staying.
Though we'd had four or five tastes at each winery (eight at Torlesse, including an amazing port) and we don't spit, we still had room for a bottle of Mud House (the original Marlborough, not Waipara) Chardonnay 2007. But we ate pretty lightly. There was a "Salade Niçoise" - no lettuce, but a couple of well-marinated and grilled fresh tuna slices piled on top of green beans, little potatoes, tomatoes, olives and onions. Also a duck leg confit in a dark sauce redolent of five-spice, with a potato gallette and a very tasty spiced plum. A little side salad was dressed with sweet rice vinegar to continue the Asian theme.
We watched the desserts go past, and they looked truly magnificent: elaborately composed, of various luscious ingredients, on big presentation plates. Maybe next time we're in Christchurch.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Retour, Christchurch
Sunday February 10
We had tried to eat at Retour, a picturesque rotunda right on the Avon river, during the conference. But there was a mixup: when we first phoned, they said they had no tables, then they said they had one, but when we arrived, that turned out to be wrong. We went across the street to Indochine, so we didn't suffer. But Holt loves follies, and eating in such a lovely copper-domed one was not to be missed. When we returned to Christchurch, he e-mailed their reservations site, and later we dropped in (the restaurant is midway between our motel and the city center) and affirmed that Sunday would finally be the big day.
It was worth waiting for. We were greeted like long-lost relatives, and led to a table looking right out on the river. It's a small place, but the windows on every side and cheerful striped awnings give it an expansive feel.
Pinot Noir again covered all the red meat/seafood bases: this one was Main Divide 05, and it went very nicely with our amuse-gueules of grilled brill (new fish!) on fresh tomato coulis with lemongrass, but also with our very varied starters. One was prawn and crayfish ravioli (made with shu mai wrappers, so really Asian despite the Italian name) in a soy-infused beurre blanc over bok choy; the other was a "pied de cochon" - actually a confit of slow-cooked and pulled wild boar wrapped in caul fat to resemble the porcine limb - with mushrooms and a julienned Waldorf salad with bacon.
The red meat mains seemed most attractive, so we had the venison: partly slices of medium rare roast loin, partly a venison timbale, with grilled potatoes, great cloves of roasted new garlic, in a red wine jus. That was good, but even better was the pair of grilled beef medallions in a miso glaze, topped with kikorangi blue cheese, accompanied by crisp vegetables, mushrooms, and perfectly-turned chateau potatoes.
When we finished and were lingering over our wine, our server said that, to make up for all the confusion over our reservations, dessert would be on the house. As all our faithful readers (both of you) know, we don't often have room for dessert, but in this case we were prepared to make room. So we had a beautiful slice of lemon meringue tart, sprinkled with berries (straw, blue, and perhaps red currant) with a scoop of toffee ice cream (hokey-pokey in this country). We could make some joke here about returning to Retour, but we won't. We're glad we did, though.
We had tried to eat at Retour, a picturesque rotunda right on the Avon river, during the conference. But there was a mixup: when we first phoned, they said they had no tables, then they said they had one, but when we arrived, that turned out to be wrong. We went across the street to Indochine, so we didn't suffer. But Holt loves follies, and eating in such a lovely copper-domed one was not to be missed. When we returned to Christchurch, he e-mailed their reservations site, and later we dropped in (the restaurant is midway between our motel and the city center) and affirmed that Sunday would finally be the big day.
It was worth waiting for. We were greeted like long-lost relatives, and led to a table looking right out on the river. It's a small place, but the windows on every side and cheerful striped awnings give it an expansive feel.
Pinot Noir again covered all the red meat/seafood bases: this one was Main Divide 05, and it went very nicely with our amuse-gueules of grilled brill (new fish!) on fresh tomato coulis with lemongrass, but also with our very varied starters. One was prawn and crayfish ravioli (made with shu mai wrappers, so really Asian despite the Italian name) in a soy-infused beurre blanc over bok choy; the other was a "pied de cochon" - actually a confit of slow-cooked and pulled wild boar wrapped in caul fat to resemble the porcine limb - with mushrooms and a julienned Waldorf salad with bacon.
The red meat mains seemed most attractive, so we had the venison: partly slices of medium rare roast loin, partly a venison timbale, with grilled potatoes, great cloves of roasted new garlic, in a red wine jus. That was good, but even better was the pair of grilled beef medallions in a miso glaze, topped with kikorangi blue cheese, accompanied by crisp vegetables, mushrooms, and perfectly-turned chateau potatoes.
When we finished and were lingering over our wine, our server said that, to make up for all the confusion over our reservations, dessert would be on the house. As all our faithful readers (both of you) know, we don't often have room for dessert, but in this case we were prepared to make room. So we had a beautiful slice of lemon meringue tart, sprinkled with berries (straw, blue, and perhaps red currant) with a scoop of toffee ice cream (hokey-pokey in this country). We could make some joke here about returning to Retour, but we won't. We're glad we did, though.
Willowbank Nature Reserve
Saturday February 9
We are both fascinated with Maori culture and language, and have been watching the Maori TV station (including a game show like "Password" and something that Barbara could have sworn was called "Pimp my Waka"). Unfortunately, we were told that the Marae near Christchurch was no longer bringing in visitors, so our best option for any sort of exposure to Maori culture (outside of the friendly Maori people we've been meeting and talking to) was a show called Ko Tane, at the Willowbrook Nature Reserve. We don't like packaged "cultural experiences" much, but they worked in Bali; and this one came with a nature walk that promised us a glimpse of real live kiwi, AND a dinner.
The show was a pleasant experience, including a mock marae, haka, and several pretty songs and dances, in which we got to participate and make fools of ourselves (Barbara couldn't catch her poi, but Holt was praised for how far he could stick his tongue out). We also got to chat with Dave, the emcee, afterward.
The dinner was very good too. It started with a selection of seafood: mussels in a soy-based sauce, a juicy rock oyster, peppered salmon fin, a prawn, and a tasty smoked fish paté. We got a bottle of Stoneleigh Savvie 2007 to start us off right. The hupa of the day was spicy tomato (yes, soup; Maori has no "s"), served with good bread and a salad bar. Everything was house-made and fresh-tasting.
As we couldn't have a real hangi (a meal steamed for hours in a pit full of hot stones), we got a lamb shank cooked in that fashion. It was tender, its flavor straightforward and meaty, served with kumara, potato and blue cheese mash. The ribeye steak was grilled, and there was about a ton of it, surrounded by roast potatoes, kumara, parsnips, and carrots.
There were desserts, including the requisite pavlova, but we skipped them to go look at the animals, including a tuatara and, in a dark enclosure, three furry soccer ball-shaped kiwis, rootling around with their long beaks. At last we have seen the national bird, and can go home content.
We are both fascinated with Maori culture and language, and have been watching the Maori TV station (including a game show like "Password" and something that Barbara could have sworn was called "Pimp my Waka"). Unfortunately, we were told that the Marae near Christchurch was no longer bringing in visitors, so our best option for any sort of exposure to Maori culture (outside of the friendly Maori people we've been meeting and talking to) was a show called Ko Tane, at the Willowbrook Nature Reserve. We don't like packaged "cultural experiences" much, but they worked in Bali; and this one came with a nature walk that promised us a glimpse of real live kiwi, AND a dinner.
The show was a pleasant experience, including a mock marae, haka, and several pretty songs and dances, in which we got to participate and make fools of ourselves (Barbara couldn't catch her poi, but Holt was praised for how far he could stick his tongue out). We also got to chat with Dave, the emcee, afterward.
The dinner was very good too. It started with a selection of seafood: mussels in a soy-based sauce, a juicy rock oyster, peppered salmon fin, a prawn, and a tasty smoked fish paté. We got a bottle of Stoneleigh Savvie 2007 to start us off right. The hupa of the day was spicy tomato (yes, soup; Maori has no "s"), served with good bread and a salad bar. Everything was house-made and fresh-tasting.
As we couldn't have a real hangi (a meal steamed for hours in a pit full of hot stones), we got a lamb shank cooked in that fashion. It was tender, its flavor straightforward and meaty, served with kumara, potato and blue cheese mash. The ribeye steak was grilled, and there was about a ton of it, surrounded by roast potatoes, kumara, parsnips, and carrots.
There were desserts, including the requisite pavlova, but we skipped them to go look at the animals, including a tuatara and, in a dark enclosure, three furry soccer ball-shaped kiwis, rootling around with their long beaks. At last we have seen the national bird, and can go home content.
Cook'n' with Gas, Christchurch - Reprise
Friday February 8
Since we had tickets to "Scared Scriptless," improv night at the Arts Centre, we couldn't resist going back to Cook'n' with Gas, which is right across the street from the theater. We were greeted by the restaurant cat, and ushered (not by the cat) to the very same table we had had the first time - I guess they class us as regulars now.
We wanted to have both meat and seafood, so our server advised us to go with a Charles Wiffen Reserve Pinot Noir 2005. New Zealand pinots have lots more body and less acid than the Californians; our Wino notes this particular one as being dusky, with notes of bing cherry, and more chocolate and leather flavors than usual.
Starters were seafood. Mussels were steamed with Cook's spruce beer and topped with gruyere and speck, on a mound of silverbeet (swiss chard to us) shredded and fried until it looked like seaweed, and in a creamy sauce with bright green parsley oil. Sort of a New Zealand version of oysters Rockefeller. Also Nelson bay scallops, with their tasty roes, piled (along with apple and lemon zest) on a smoked artichoke and brie tart composed very cleverly on a base of phyllo leaf with a top of arugula or other leafy green.
One main was Seafood at the Gas, a salmon fillet (unfortunately a trifle overbaked to our taste) topped with fluffy crabmeat and its own crisp skin, reposing on a bed of "wild and tame rice," plus a shrimp, spinach and cucumber salad with tarragon vinaigrette. And the other should have been called "Beef Three Ways": one was a beautifully rare grilled sliced fillet; two a mound of braised brisket with syrah glaze, caper berry, and smoked paprika oil; and three a corned beef and potato napoleon, and a side of little green lima beans and tomato that even Holt, ace lima-bean despiser, liked.
You've got to give the place credit for its creativity, excellent ingredients, and friendly atmosphere. Certainly one of our fave spots in all New Zealand.
Since we had tickets to "Scared Scriptless," improv night at the Arts Centre, we couldn't resist going back to Cook'n' with Gas, which is right across the street from the theater. We were greeted by the restaurant cat, and ushered (not by the cat) to the very same table we had had the first time - I guess they class us as regulars now.
We wanted to have both meat and seafood, so our server advised us to go with a Charles Wiffen Reserve Pinot Noir 2005. New Zealand pinots have lots more body and less acid than the Californians; our Wino notes this particular one as being dusky, with notes of bing cherry, and more chocolate and leather flavors than usual.
Starters were seafood. Mussels were steamed with Cook's spruce beer and topped with gruyere and speck, on a mound of silverbeet (swiss chard to us) shredded and fried until it looked like seaweed, and in a creamy sauce with bright green parsley oil. Sort of a New Zealand version of oysters Rockefeller. Also Nelson bay scallops, with their tasty roes, piled (along with apple and lemon zest) on a smoked artichoke and brie tart composed very cleverly on a base of phyllo leaf with a top of arugula or other leafy green.
One main was Seafood at the Gas, a salmon fillet (unfortunately a trifle overbaked to our taste) topped with fluffy crabmeat and its own crisp skin, reposing on a bed of "wild and tame rice," plus a shrimp, spinach and cucumber salad with tarragon vinaigrette. And the other should have been called "Beef Three Ways": one was a beautifully rare grilled sliced fillet; two a mound of braised brisket with syrah glaze, caper berry, and smoked paprika oil; and three a corned beef and potato napoleon, and a side of little green lima beans and tomato that even Holt, ace lima-bean despiser, liked.
You've got to give the place credit for its creativity, excellent ingredients, and friendly atmosphere. Certainly one of our fave spots in all New Zealand.
Ironside Thai Restaurant, Christchurch
Thursday February 7
A ride on the scenic Tranzalpine train brought us back to Christchurch, which is beginning to feel like home. There were four Thai restaurants within a block of our motel, but when we asked its proprietress which she recommended, she sent us about five blocks away (big deal!) to Ironside Thai.
The restaurant is a big old house, subtly painted, with white roses nodding in the windows. Inside, there are a few Thai touches on top of Victorian domestic decor. The proprietors are young Thais, and their food differs a bit from your typical menu.
Our waitron advised us on wine choices, and we settled on a 2006 Allan Scott Marlborough Riesling. It went very well with the piquancy of our starter, Nam Tok: a northeastern style salad of sliced beef dusted with roasted ground rice and flavored with lemon, chili, and Thai herbs.
Having started with beef, we went on to seafood. The new fish of the day was monkfish, again a different sort from the one we know at home, thinner and falling into tender white flakes. It was served as Choo Chee Plah, battered, deep fried and drenched in a creamy red curry sauce. The other main was Goong Phad King, fresh-tasting prawns (or shrimp, to us) stir-fried with lots of ginger, dried mushrooms, and vegetables. Both dishes included cauliflower among their vegetables, which we've never seen in other Thai restaurants, but they went along beautifully.
It shows that Thai cooking is about the style of preparation and the sauces and condiments, not about the individual ingredients. I think I could eat possum in that red curry sauce and enjoy it - and I'd know I was doing the ecology of New Zealand a big favor as well.
A ride on the scenic Tranzalpine train brought us back to Christchurch, which is beginning to feel like home. There were four Thai restaurants within a block of our motel, but when we asked its proprietress which she recommended, she sent us about five blocks away (big deal!) to Ironside Thai.
The restaurant is a big old house, subtly painted, with white roses nodding in the windows. Inside, there are a few Thai touches on top of Victorian domestic decor. The proprietors are young Thais, and their food differs a bit from your typical menu.
Our waitron advised us on wine choices, and we settled on a 2006 Allan Scott Marlborough Riesling. It went very well with the piquancy of our starter, Nam Tok: a northeastern style salad of sliced beef dusted with roasted ground rice and flavored with lemon, chili, and Thai herbs.
Having started with beef, we went on to seafood. The new fish of the day was monkfish, again a different sort from the one we know at home, thinner and falling into tender white flakes. It was served as Choo Chee Plah, battered, deep fried and drenched in a creamy red curry sauce. The other main was Goong Phad King, fresh-tasting prawns (or shrimp, to us) stir-fried with lots of ginger, dried mushrooms, and vegetables. Both dishes included cauliflower among their vegetables, which we've never seen in other Thai restaurants, but they went along beautifully.It shows that Thai cooking is about the style of preparation and the sauces and condiments, not about the individual ingredients. I think I could eat possum in that red curry sauce and enjoy it - and I'd know I was doing the ecology of New Zealand a big favor as well.
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