Not your ordinary anything (including the oyster mushrooms) at Kol, Ponsonby. Photo / Babiche Martens
In their own words: “Fire, food and cocktails.”
First impressions: Hot. The menu, the cocktails, the people sitting at the bar and, literally, the kitchen. Book a regular restaurant table, walk in to a comfortable stool at the bar or snag a spot at the counter with its front-row viewof chefs, sweat and flames. In winter, these will be the most exciting seats in town. In summer? Be grateful you’re on the customer side of the counter.
In the kitchen: Owned and operated by restauranteurs Sid and Chand Sahrawat (Cassia, Sid at The French Cafe), the head chef is Vicky Shah, whose resume includes the aforementioned plus a stint at Ben Bayly’s Ahi.
On the floor: Two award-winning personalities at the bar. Front-of-house staff who remembered our brown paper bag of leftovers when we didn’t. An offer to move us to a different table while an anti-wobble device was reinstalled. Kol’s customer service was superbly professional and totally charming (even before the gratis taste of the new, housemade roasted plum and wild berry liqueur).
The menu: It’s not so much what’s on the list as what isn’t. No crudo, no pork belly, no octopus. The market fish was john dory, not snapper. My dining companion is vegetarian and, for the first time in forever, was not forced to default to aubergine (on the night of our visit seven of the 17 savoury dishes were meat-free and not one contained aubergine). The $8-is-the-new-$5 tiny snack was an intriguing chickpea and sesame croquette. My wallet is still weeping at this freshly-acceptable price point but, post-Covid, it appears as omnipresent as an oyster mushroom. (At Kol, the latter are skewered, grilled and served on a splodge of macadamia sauce with bonus bundles of enoki. A+).
Best bite #1: Is it a naan? Is it a pizza? Is it a charred and soft pillow oozing milky goat’s cheese and the earthy funk of truffle and porcini? Yes. And you should definitely consider ordering the kulcha if you’ve ever wondered what would happen if calzone had been invented in India.
Best bite #2: No pork belly? I stand to be corrected by pedants who will point out that Kol’s Kurobuta pork rack is belly-adjacent but, anyway, I had the lamb. Or, perhaps more accurately, the lamb had me. Rich-succulent-primal. This is a fingers-teeth-tongue situation that requires you to get messy. Crisp fat and sweet meat that drips off the bone. Tangy date puree, the hot and dry crush of “gunpowder” spices and legumes and - don’t stop - no less than five deep-fried onion rings. Oh my.
The jury’s still out: Perhaps they’ve been overhyped (guilty!) but the vindaloo fries did not overly impress. Drier than your average chip, too salty-sweet for my palate and impossible to eat without turning your fingers road-cone orange.
On the side: Sweetcorn and pāua chaat is a fairly steep $18-a-serve but the interplay between charred kernels and kaimoana was addictive. The pāua (enough to both see and taste) offered salinity and texture against sweet pops of corn and a pretty mass of chive flowers. If you follow Kol on social media, you’ll be aware of its theatrical (and highly drinkable) cocktails. Pair a glass with these baby pāua for maximum visual appeal.
Dessert: Toasted naan-infused icecream topped with something that tasted like miso caramel or burnt butter ganache or - let’s be honest, I don’t really know. I do know that we ordered out of curiosity and duty, and then scraped that plate clean. We also, magically, found room for another look at the cocktail list. Maybe that one with the giant bubble? The one with more faux smoke than a teenage vaper? Is it the weather that’s increasingly driving me to drinks-based desserts? It must be the weather.
Perfect for: First dates and jaded couples. Show-stopping cocktails plus an interesting menu guarantees no lulls in the conversation.
How much: $259 for two (cocktails $22-$25 each; food $7-$42).
All other sips aside, I love that in addition to its cocktail menu, Kol also has an actual Gin and Tonic menu. Excellent! See now that we have access to literally hundreds of excellent gins here in New Zealand, and with tonic flavours getting more exotic by the season, there’s absolutely NO reason to limit yourself to simply slinging some supermarket Schwepps into a glug of Gordon’s anymore. Girl, please. Give me a double Panda Organic from Belgium with a splash of East Imperial Yuzu tonic please and make it snappy! Craft brews are represented by Wellington’s Boneface, Northland’s McLeod’s, Three Boys from Christchurch and Auckland’s Hallertau provides the cider. The wines have been very carefully curated, but if you want Champagne, be prepared to drop between $180 and $550 for a bottle, or at least $30 a glass. So I’d head straight for a $22 flute of Hunter’s multi award-winning Miru Miru instead. Every category has at least two wines available by the glass and I love that they offer a local and an international version of each. A glass of riesling or pinot gris from here, and options from Alsace, a rosé from here and one from Provence, pinot noir from Central Otago and Burgundy, sauvignon from here and one from Sancere – you get the idea. There’s more gewurztraminer, muscat, gruner veltliner, chenin blanc and viognier than you can sling a screwcap at, and the reds? I don’t have enough space to sing the praises enough for that selection. Kol, your list is comprehensive and classy.