Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts

Monday, October 26, 2015

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.








Monday, February 17, 2014

Market Revisited

With over 300 restaurants to visit in Durban (according to Tripadvisor) I am always excited about where I am going to eat next. My mental top ten list, is constantly updated based on reviews, comments, recommendations and new places opening up (I'm looking at you The Wok Box). With so many places to go, and a limited number of opportunities to eat out, there aren't yet many Durban restaurants that I've visited twice.

One restaurant that I've been to more than twice is Market. There's a lot to like about Market. It's in a beautiful courtyard just off Gladys Mazibuko road, so it's easy to get to. It's next door to Shoppe, which is my favourite place to peruse for gifts and arty objects for the house. The waiters are among the best in Durban: friendly, informed, efficient. And the food is obviously very, very tasty.

So far, we've eaten at Market for breakfast two or three times (This little piggy went to Market) and for lunch on several occasions, and it hasn't let us down yet. I went there for my birthday. I took along my parents AND my parents-in-law. So I was really excited to head over for a day-after-Valentine's dinner and see what their night time fare was like.

As I expected, the place is magical at night. When we arrived, the sound of South African Jazz welcomed us into the courtyard, where the trees were draped in gently glowing fairy lights. Inside, naked bulbs hung from high ceilings and shed a soft glow on the tables below. We were seated on the veranda area and enjoyed the benefit of the breeze outside.

  

Our waiter Simphiwe was great fun, guiding us through the night's specials, guessing (correctly) what we were going to order, and suggesting an excellent bottle of wine which we hadn't tried before - the 2011 'Bamboes Bay' Sauvignon from Fryer's Cove (5* from Platter's: WineSA). Before starters, a simple platter of hot fresh bread was brought to the table and Simphiwe anointed plates with olive oil and balsamic which he poured theatrically from a height, laughing infectiously.

Sadly, the magic didn't last. For starters we had the fish cakes and the ostrich carpaccio - and while both were tasty enough, they lacked the imagination and flair of dishes we had enjoyed in the past off the lunch and breakfast menus. The carpaccio was presented with little thought in a subdued heap and adorned with halved cherry tomatoes and wilting rocket. The fish cakes flavours were overwhelmed by potato filler and the dips (soy and sweet chili), uninspired.

For mains we tried the duck confit with butterbean mash and tomato and bean compote. The duck was quite tasty, the mash was alright, and the compote was either so minimal that it eluded detection, or quite possibly was completely absent. We also ordered the ostrich fillet served on polenta bread and finished with a port and whole-grained mustard sauce. The fillet was tough and underdone, which was a shame, as it was a generously sized portion of three large medallions. The port and whole-grained mustard had, by some mysterious alchemy, turned to green peppercorn sauce, and the polenta 'bread' turned out to be just fried polenta really, which was also kinda disappointing.



Striving to hit at least one high note, we risked ordering two desserts, one - Market's famous chocolate brownie which I had enjoyed twice before, and two - a baked lemon cheesecake. On the previous occasions that I have ordered the brownie, it was served with a delicious homemade vanilla ice-cream. Sadly this portion arrived with what I am 90% sure was Country Fresh Vanilla Flavoured Frozen Dessert* with vegetable fat. The cheesecake was equally bland, I think one of those Woolie's ones in the little plastic container might have been nicer. At least the coffee was great - and served with one of those crystallised sugar stirrers, a nice touch.

The final one-two was the arrival of the bill (expensive) followed soon after by stomach cramps and nausea.


The next day I sent an email to the manager to let him know how disappointed we were with our meal, and its after effects. I got an auto-response informing me that he was on leave. A case of the sous chef blues? Here's hoping our experience was a once off - but I won't be back in a hurry.