Secret Eats Rebooted

Secret Eats, the 'Underground Dining Experience' is back in Durban, having taken a leave of absence for most of the last year. My first taste of Secret Eats was back in June 2014, when it burst onto the Durban dining scene with a bang, pairing the edgy, urban hangout of the Factory Café by night with the renowned cooking of Marcelle Roberts of Café 1999.

The concept of pairing an unexpected, out of the ordinary space with a talented chef is a winning one, and pairing it with a heavy emphasis on social media buzz ensured that Durbanites were lining up for elusive tickets to the next event.

The first event in Durban in many months was announced online with much fanfare, and I was happy to grab two tickets, to see if the kind of magic that had been conjured up in the past could be created again. Secret Eats events are a bit of a lucky-packet leap of faith, as you have to pay upfront without knowing where the event will be hosted, or who the chef will be. Parting with my R1190 (R595 a head) I crossed my fingers, and hoped that the outlay would be worth it.

On the morning of the event, I received an email revealing the secret location for the event - The Green Door in Glenwood, a flexible events / shared office space converted for the night into our venue (it's next door to the Coffee Tree café).

Normally at these events, there's a bit of a fuss made about knowing a secret password to gain access. Silly, but sort of fun. This evening fell more on the silly side, as we delivered our line, and then rather than being ushered into a hidden venue, we were instructed to stand awkwardly on the pavement, where a gentle drizzle was drifting down.

A welcome drink of white wine sangria (peach, strawberries, Ernst & Gouws Sav Blanc, refreshing) was served, and gradually the guests for the night accumulated, up to the final total of around 35 or 40. While we stood on the pavement, sipping sangria and making an effort to feel sophisticated, we nibbled on mouth-sized bites of curry served on a kind of tortilla chip - lamb, cauliflower and chicken versions were served on mirrored trays, all very tasty.

Moving indoors, two rather sparsely decorated long tables were squeezed into the limited space, and the usual seating dance ensued, as everyone tried to sit next to either the people they came with, or having come on their own (as we did) opposite somebody who looked like they would make good conversation. This is actually one of the highlights of these events, as the chance meetings are almost always interesting and a fun way to meet people you wouldn't normally.

A card on the table informed us that the theme for the evening was South African flavours, in an unfortunately timed nod to the rugby world cup (minutes earlier, New Zealand had booted us out of the semi-finals). The chef was chef Ros (no surname given) of Olive Twist, a 'Bespoke Catering Company' according to their website.

The 'Coastal Consommé' starter was a winning effort, served in a tall glass bowl, and looking for all the world like a rock pool on a summer afternoon, complete with plump prawns, slivers of fish, rice-balls and salty broth. Fun to look at and to eat. The paired wine was a rather decent Chardonnay.

Lacking from the evening, sadly, was any real introduction to the chef, discussion of the food we were about to eat, or information about the paired wines being poured. This kind of fanfare at previous Secret Eats was part of what gave one the impression of being privileged insiders, rather than regular restaurant patrons.

Too soon after the starters were cleared, mains began to arrive, in fits and starts, with one end of a table being served, while the other waited. Service was not a high point of the evening, and waiters were generally only good for shuttling food from kitchen to table, and had none of the repartee and energy of the more student-y waiters from previous efforts.

The main course was described as 'a delicious black salt crackling of slow cooked pork, served with a true homage to our wonderful rainbow nation'. The true homage to our wonderful rainbow nation turned out to be steamed tenderstem broccoli, potato bake (the chef would have probably said 'potato gratin' and a lonely asparagus spear). Crackling was sadly noticeable by its absence (there was none on my or my wife's plates) and the dish was only just warm. Sure, the pork belly was soft and tender, but spice was lacking, and the whole dish brought to mind upper middle class weddings, which presumably is where it was first delivered. Buyer's remorse was starting to set in at this point.

Happily, dessert was more inspired, being a Durban inspired curried pineapple, served on a kind of cocoa/biscuit ground, and served with chocolate truffles and a dollop of ice cream. The tall glass bowls were back out, and we had another round of scooping food out from the bottom, which was quite enjoyable.

And that, sadly was that - having begun starters at 8, dishes were cleared by 9.30. No coffee was on offer, nor were any drinks available other than the paired Shiraz and Merlot. Not being a big red wine drinker, I returned to the welcoming sangria. An earlier promised charity raffle either failed to materialise, or took place after we hailed our Uber home at around 10.30.

My unsolicited advice for the continued success of this enterprise? First of all, pick venues with a little more of a wow factor. The Green Door seems like a lovely space, but doesn't exactly take your breath away. Try to work with chefs that enjoy greater name recognition - good food is not all we are looking for, we want a chance to see what our favourite chefs can do outside of their usual kitchen and regular menu. Make sure you employ waiters with a bit of personality. Have drinks other than the paired wines available. Generate a little anticipation for each course, and impress us with detailed descriptions of what we're about to eat. Put on some music, preferably live. Ramp up the number of courses. Keep your plates warm. Make this a secret too good not to share.

Secret Eats: Open Plan Studio

At the Design Factory's Open Plan Studio in Morningside, four floors above the empty streets, long wooden tables stretch across a sparsely decorated industrial space. The tables are strewn with artfully arranged stacks of old books, ceramics and antique appliances. At each place setting, long rows of assorted cutlery reflect the candlelight: two knives, a fish knife, three forks and a spoon. People sit on mismatched chairs - ten to a side and the noise of animated conversation almost drowns out the background music as bottles of wine are passed from one side of the table to the other.

It’s Friday night, and it’s time for another once off event hosted in Durban by Secret Eats, the underground dining experience with limited seats and largely word-of-mouth advertising. The crowd have gathered here for a unique dining experience, this one catered by Tarnah Blane, a graduate of Christina Martin and owner of Private Chef Ballito.

Why go to the effort of applying for invitations to attend pop-up restaurant in out of the way parts of town, or trying to remember the tongue-in-cheek passwords at the door that are part of the Secret Eats experience? Part of it is about the food, which is out of the ordinary, different every time, and follows a set menu format that forces people out of their comfort zones. Mostly though, I think it’s about the people who attend - the spontaneous friendships that emerge across the shared tables, and the chance to discover parts of the city where most of us wouldn’t ordinarily go.

The evening starts well with welcome cocktails and live music from the talented Phil Moffett, who does strange things to a guitar that sound pretty amazing (apparently it’s called slap harmonics). The cocktails are served in retro glass ‘Cooee’ bottles, and involve what feels like large quantities of gin, rosewater and those hipster-y paper straws. The evening’s theme is #SouthAmericanFlavours (Secret Eats is big on social media) so we snack on empanadas dipped in fragrant chimichurri sauce and choripanes (effectively pork sliders, named for their two main ingredients, grilled chorizo sausage and pan, or bread) as we mingle and meet some of the other guests.

We move through to the tables which have unreserved seating, and form naturally into large groups of new found friends. I might be imagining it, but the one table seems to hold a mostly 30s crowd, while the other table is favoured by slightly older diners. We’re sitting at the kids table!

For starters we are served ceviche, the unofficial national dish of Peru - raw fish marinated in citrus juices, and effectively ‘cooked’ by the acid, leaving it tender and slightly chewy with a delicate flavour that really reveals the fish – a perfect food for Durban! This one is adventurously combined with toasted coconut flakes and fried banana fritters. Personally, bananas are the one food that I refuse to eat, so I simply push the fritter to one side. The fresh yellowtail, purchased the same morning from the docks is meltingly tender and simply dressed. The crunchy flakes of coconut add a fun textural component that really pulls the dish together.

Next, it’s a second starter sized portion of panqueques con pollo a la crema (chicken wrapped in a pancake with butter beans, and served with avocado salsa). Pretty tasty, although it could have been served warmer – a challenge for the chefs at all of these functions is cooking for a crowd out of what is generally a makeshift kitchen. Still, the plates are heading back to the kitchen wiped clean, and we are clamouring for more.

The main course is shredded venison (blesbok) served atop a pile of quinoa risotto and chargrilled sweetcorn and decorated with micro herbs. Quinoa’s gluten-free status and high mineral and protein content have made it a trendy superfood, but as well as being good for you it’s also really delicious, and (we discover) goes fantastically with blesbok. Cell phones and cameras are hovering over dishes before they are devoured, as each course is sent out via Twitter and Instagram to those unfortunate enough to have missed out on tickets.

Two of the guests are celebrating their birthdays, and there is an impromptu performance of unaccompanied singing from Ian – a Drakensberg Boy’s alumni who is sitting opposite me. Everybody pauses to enjoy the moment, this is the kind of thing that makes these evenings what they are – a little out of the ordinary.

Finally we reach the dessert course, which is bread and butter pudding of croissant (known as medialuna in Argentina for their half-moon shape) with dulce de leche and Chantilly cream. It’s served in a tin mug, and it’s decadently soft and sweet – a perfect end to the meal.

Open Plan Studio has a photo booth set up, so we gather for photographs with some of the table, as well as Zak and Tam (of Zak and Tonic, who run these evenings). Arms are thrown around shoulders as we huddle up for a pose – just another group of old friends that met a couple of hours ago.

Secret Eats: Durban

So there I was, standing indecisively in a dimly lit parking area outside a factory building that was shrouded in darkness. Through the dusty window panes mysterious shapes moved past, and the distant hum of voices spilled out of a door, which was guarded by a clean shaven guy stylishly dressed in chinos and a button up shirt.

'Greg?' I asked him, 'from Secret Eats?'

He looked blankly at me, throwing me off momentarily - was this the right place? The email I received that morning had definitely given this address... Remembering the password I had been emailed hours earlier, I tried again, 'coffee or tea, it's all the same to me', I mumbled, feeling distinctly awkward. At the sound of the secret words Greg's face lit up at with a huge grin as he welcomed us inside of the normally off-limits downstairs area of the Colombo Coffee and Tea building in Glenwood (home of the Factory Café).

This is the concept of Secret Eats, a limited seating, underground dining experience that pairs food enthusiasts with award winning chefs in unique venues for once-off opportunities to come together and celebrate good food, wine and sparkling company. Besides the unconventional venues and exciting food, part of the appeal is in the secretive nature of the soirees, with only people who have signed up to receive invitations aware of the occasion, and no hint given as to menu or venue until the day of the event. Think of it like a Foodster Fight Club. The first rule of Secret Eats, is you don't talk about Secret Eats (until you're there of course - then Twitter, Instagram and the rest light up with our smug satisfaction at being in on the secret).

Until recently, Secret Eats was active in Cape Town and Joburg only, but this weekend was the launch of the Durban experience.

Inside the factory, a temporary bar had been set up and waiters were serving cranberry and Tanqueray cocktails. Various amuse-bouches were dotted around the room. At one end, a table covered in a lush layer of wheatgrass was dotted with chicken satay and sesame crusted prawn skewers. A tray filled with olive and sesame seed 'ground' was planted with crudités and people were grazing happily. Glass bowls of deep fried ricotta stuffed olives hung from a rusting piece of antique equipment and spoons holding bite sized cubes of bright tuna sashimi were carefully arranged on a chainlink fence.

The crowd was intimate, around 50 people in total, and conversation was soon flowing as we got to know our fellow diners, several of whom I knew from Twitter, or had met at one or another of Durban's markets (Zak and Tonic, the Delish Sisters and Cuizine Durban were all there).

As the last of the snacks were disappearing, our host Greg led us upstairs, past the fairy lights of the Factory Café space and to two long tables simply decorated with white tablecloths, candles in large Mason jars and occasional succulents in white ceramic pots. The big tables made for lively dinner chatter and as the wine was poured generously, I had the feeling of being surrounded by a rowdy extended family or perhaps attending a particularly well catered wedding.

To cries of approval, we were introduced to our mystery chef for the night, Marcelle Roberts of Café 1999 and Unity fame. Working out of a very small kitchen, Marcelle managed to feed the hungry hordes, bringing her signature modern Mediterranean flair to the table.

We started with a Jerusalem artichoke soup scattered with slivers of tea smoked duck and drizzled with chive oil. The duck was soft, sweet and subtly smoky, and married perfectly with the soup, which was slightly sweet and nutty (Jerusalem artichokes it turns out are not artichokes at all, but the tubers of a sunflower family member).

Continuing with the coffee and tea theme, the main course was an amazing coffee rubbed lamb loin. The loin was served just past pink and carried an earthy almost chocolate flavour from the coffee. In a move that delighted lamb lovers, the loin was paired with a 'lamb reduction' that was basically a moist, succulent pulled lamb, meaning there were two different textures to enjoy. The plate was finished off with a fantastic roasted aubergine that was silky smooth and soft, as well as a dash of chickpea puree and a red pepper salsa.

The dessert did not disappoint, and was just the right portion to finish off a memorable meal. A yoghurt and vanilla panna cotta served with a scoop of light green pistachio ice cream and decorated with three pretty cubes of rose jelly. I alternated eating the elements separately and combining them in various combinations on my spoon and was only sad that I finished every scrap before I could decide on my favourite way to enjoy it.

After the dinner was complete there was still wine to enjoy (an excellent Bakenskop Chardonnay and a Lushof Shiraz) and a selection of locally made cheeses. I'm pretty sure I spotted some of Chrissie Briscoe's cheddar, which fans of the Shongweni Market will be familiar with. And of course, we had to finish with some of the expertly pulled espressos from the Factory Café.

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