One of the first things I ate as the Canvas restaurant reviewer was a hunk of Gladwrap. As far as Gladwrap goes, it was probably a 10 out of 10. As far as dinner goes, I thought: more salt?
There are moments I might have died doing this job. At a burger joint where every single entree I ordered came battered in a heart attack. At a bistro where a piece of chicken was cut open to reveal an uncooked vein. On a Saturday morning, when I reread the copy filed days earlier and thought: too harsh?
Because one woman's cake is another woman's carrot macaron. The restaurant experience is subjective, but, as Virginia Woolf once said, one cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well. These are some of the places where Canvas dined well in 2016.
Just because you can finally pronounce quinoa doesn't mean you should eat it. Variously pronounced "earthy" or "nutty", I've always thought a better descriptor for the wunderkind of the grain world would be "tastes like dirt". Except at Gemmayze St. Its quinoa was puffed and popped, and added a delicate crunch to the creamy taramasalata that came with the charred octopus. Oh, so very good.
Easily one of the best new openings of the year, you can order off the menu at Culprit (I'm still dreaming of turbot with chicken skin, gravy and grapes) but the ever-changing yum cha style offerings on trays and trolleys are the star attraction. Pick and choose from the kitchen's whims and fancies. If you're very, very lucky, that will include a single tender tortellini in a roasted duck bone stock that redefines the word savoury.
Yes, the food is good (actually, the venison is sensational) but this is also a terrifically comfortable restaurant. The chairs have no hard edges, they are covered in fabric that you will not stick to in summer, and their moulded depths will accommodate the largest, erm, largesse. Eat, drink, stay.
A working brewery was the last place I expected to find the best salad I've eaten in my entire life, but in October the Sawmill Brewery and Smoko Room made magic with charred asparagus and a soy-mirin dressing. North of Matakana and south of Leigh, it's serving some of the most interesting food you'll find in any pub, anywhere. (Goat's hummus, anyone?)
You're there for the fish, of course. But back in April, Soul Bar on the Viaduct did this seasonally sublime thing with feijoa, elderflower and a simple shard of meringue crust that was off-the-charts good.
Carrots are a versatile vegetable. Roast 'em, boil 'em, definitely turn them into a cake with cream cheese frosting. Don't, under any circumstances, use them as the basis for a delicate, sweet, meringue-based confection - unless you're in a kitchen run by chef extraordinaire Sid Sahrawat. I didn't like them but, in lesser hands, I wouldn't have even bothered trying them.
Calamansi gel is sour. Burnt honey icecream is sweet and smoky. Pandan is pandan is pandan (even when it's a parfait). Get that holy trinity of goodness at Dominion Rd's A'meza.
The ultimate omnivore's dilemma was at Little Jimmy Bar and Eatery. Did we like the meat because of the minted sorrel pesto? (Lemony, sharp, tangy.) Or did we like the pesto because of the roasted merino alpine lamb? (Juicy, rich, chewy.) Sublime, either way.
There will be something made from weeds. There will be something made from something no other chef wanted. There will be something that sounds like something you have had before (say, an egg yolk) but it will turn out to be slow-cooked with smoked butter and barley. Your bucket list will now include one more meal at Pasture.
It was the younger chef's first night solo at the Adam Arnold fish station. The kingfish fillet was so close to being undercooked that it was, instead, a thing of perfection. It's a fine line between a good review and a bad review. (The Canvas review is now displayed in their toilet where patrons are assured of excellent reading.)
