KEY POINTS:
A bloke I know bought a place on Waiheke Island. It was 1973. You couldn't see the sea from it - it was a three-room fibro bach
tucked up the end of a dirt road - but you couldn't see another house, either. It cost him $1500, which he raised by way of an overdraft on his cheque account.
I'm sure there are still dirt roads and fibro baches on Waiheke but they're getting harder to find among the architect-designed trophy homes.
That's progress, I suppose. Mind you, my mate rode to the island on
an old tub called the Baroona, which pitched and yawed through a crossing that lasted an hour and a quarter.
Quite apart from the changing demographic, Waiheke has, since those
days, become something of a gastronomic resort, Tuscany-sur-mer but with
more rain. Vineyards and olive groves abound and there are some excellent cafes.
I have reported patchy experiences with the more upscale restaurants there, though, and the proprietors extended to me a warm invitation never to return.
This reaction is only human, I guess, though I can't help chuckling when
Waihekeans contact me to endorse my assessments in terms that would certainly be actionable if they appeared in print.
So my decision to check out Cable Bay Vineyards' Restaurant was what you
might call a triumph of hope over experience. The restaurant was a finalist in Cuisine magazine's restaurant of the year competition last year, but they've put me crook more than once. Were we headed for another indifferent and expensive meal?
We need not have worried. From the moment we descended the steps into
the main entrance, we were entranced. The design, by Christchurch architect Charlie Nott, has avoided the terracotta cliches and created a building that is at once magnificent and understated. It seems to hug, rather than rise ostentatiously from, the southwest-facing slope on which it sits.
We could have enjoyed an aperitif in the attractive wine bar or on the sunny terrace but the sea air on the ferry crossing had sharpened my appetite so we settled over the menus at a table with a terrific view,
past the swooping wind-activated sculpture of Phil Price to the western horizon. The Sky Tower was lost in the mist of a squall but the battle between sun and storm over Mt Wellington put me in mind of Joni Mitchell's great line about "the clouds of Michelangelo, muscular with gods and sungold".
It was almost impossible to tear our eyes away from the view to enjoy the interior, where dramatic works by Max Gimblett and Judy Millar adorn, but do not overpower, the otherwise plain space.
This is a seriously good-taste eating environment, rich in pleasures.
And, as it happens, the food is seriously good-taste too. The waiter described the entree I chose - a Galician specialty consisting of octopus, boiled, with Jersey Benne spuds and paprika - as peasant food. It seems to me that could be applied to much of the menu, and I mean that as a compliment.
The cooking assists the food and doesn't get in the way. But there is real skill at play: the Professor's goat cheese beignets - it's the
French word for doughnut but you ain't never tasted deep-fried heaven like this - were like fast comfort food; my beef, crisp outside and
juicily pink within, served with ratatouille and garlic mash, was a perfect reading of a classic.
The Professor is still talking about a cinnamon custard she had for dessert and I was enchanted by whipped gorgonzola with candied pumpkin - a sort of dessert and cheese course in one.
With the exception of the bubbles and the fortifieds, all the by-the-glass wines are Cable Bay's own, which is as it should be, not least because they're damn good. As we left, I bought a bottle of their Merlot Malbec Cabernet 06 to go. I strongly suggest you do, too.
Cable Bay Vineyards, Oneroa. Ph (09) 372 5889 or visit www.cablebay
vineyards.co.nz
- Detours, HoS
