Red-checked tablecloths? Must be Coco's Cantina on Karangahape Rd. Photo/Dean Purcell
Red-checked tablecloths? Must be Coco's Cantina on Karangahape Rd. Photo/Dean Purcell
It's more than a decade since Coco's Cantina opened. Restaurant critic Kim Knight visits the oldest of Karangahape Rd's new guard and asks - is it still good?
In their own words: "A simple, neighbourhood restaurant serving homestyle, Mediterranean-inspired food."
First impressions: Italy called and wants its cliches back. Chiantibottles and a picture of Sophia Loren? Check. Red-checked tablecloths? Literally, double-check. Cheap shot by lazy reviewer? Actually, yes. Because that's also a kōrero Māori poster on the wall, and old-school school chairs on the floor and a statuette of a flamenco dancer wearing a skirt made of shells. This is your kooky aunt's living room and she is definitely going to let you listen to her Bowie on vinyl.
On the floor: Saturday night. Coco's is busy, busy, busy and we are THOSE customers. We want to sit outside, but can we have the heater on? It's going to rain, can we move inside? Actually, we would like dessert and we've exceeded our allocated 90-minutes, is there a table for long-stayers? As we Goldilocks'ed our way around the restaurant, lord knows what went through our waitperson's head. Full credit, however, to her out-loud voice: Effervescent, efficient and entirely accommodating.
The neighbourhood: Before the neo-bistros and the jeebs and the cucumber skin piscos, there was Coco's Cantina. Much has been written about the gastronomisation of Karangahape Rd but this restaurant was the first of the new guard. It wowed from the get-go, amplifying a community that it could have just as easily alienated. It wore a social conscience on its sleeve and, very quickly, nobody could remember a time before polenta chips and those red-checked tablecloths. Recently, a survey of 20,000 TimeOut readers ranked the world's coolest streets. Rue Wellington in Montreal took out the top spot and K Rd scored a very respectable sixth place. In its write-up, the international bible of good times and street-cred specifically referred to Coco's as "an institution". That's a big call - but I'd also bet anyone who eats, drinks or parties in Auckland has spilled at least one coupe at Coco's.
Linguine alle vongole from the menu at Coco's Cantina on Karangahape Rd. Photo/Kim Knight
The menu: Antipasti, pasta, pizza. Welcome to the holy trinity (plus pudding) of cucina Italiana.
Best bite #1: The American brother-in-law who has dined around the world and back again reported Coco's Calabrese ($28) was in the "top quintile" of his all-time pizza-eating experiences. He sent a slice across the table and I concur. The puffy and blistered sourdough crust packed a triple-chilli threat - piccante salami, nduja spread and sliced jalapeno. No taste bud was left unscorched.
Best bite #2: Linguine is a square-cut spaghetti-like pasta that translates as "little tongues". My single big and greedy tongue lapped up an enormously satisfying bowl of linguine alle vongole ($36). Cloudy Bay clams were perfectly just-steamed, a tomato base had, at some point, been bolstered by orange peel (I feel like this shouldn't work, but it always totally does) and cherry tomatoes - presumably canned - shone like jewels. It tasted like a wave had gently washed over a late summer garden. Take your shoes off, breathe out and someone will be along shortly to offer you another vino.
The jury's still out: Technically, the jury will never actually deliver this verdict because, in a shocking turn of events, the coffee machine has been BROKEN FOR TWO WEEKS and the only place the sister-in-law could get an espresso was in the tiramisu.
Coco's Cantina, as it looked back in 2009, when it was described as "a mix of tapas bar, wine bar, delicatessen, 1970s American diner and chic cocktail lounge". Photo/Babiche Martens
On the side: Coco's polenta chip is the G.O.A.T. The greatest of all time; a rosemary-scented gold standard that you dunk in an insanely garlicky aioli secure in the knowledge that this snack is also good for your soul - $1 from every purchase goes to a charity of the staff's choice.
Dessert: There was honey, but not too much. There was Campari, but not enough. Mostly, the pannacotta tasted like top-milk - thick, creamy and a tiny bit like you probably should have ordered the tiramisu.
Perfect for: People watching (with polenta) on the sixth coolest street in the world.
