Cibo

By EWAN MCDONALD for viva

Rosie's kitchen, they call it, because the retiring - oh, no, you can't use that word about Rosie - charity worker is so often to be found there. And this night she was in her usual corner, in her usual pink, with two - oh, no, you can't call them charity cases.

Rosie, as she told this newspaper recently, went into charity work to keep herself out of the kitchen. She can't cook, has no utensils and there is hardly ever anything edible in the house.

If that's so, where better to fuel a hard day's fundraising than Cibo? If you can't cook, who better to cook for you than - oh, yes, you can use the word, because it's on their website - the indomitable Kate Fay?

Cibo is the Italian word for food but that's likely to lead first-timers up the garden path. Or, perhaps, around the courtyard, by the fish-filled water-garden, through the sliding glass walls into the plush and plain, rather industrial dining room and bar under the one-time Nestle's chocolate factory, long since transformed into the Axis building. Ad-agency Central. Architect Central. Designer Central.

In earlier days (Cibo opened in 1994) the management claimed that the emphasis was on Nonya, Singapore's distinctive Chinese-Malaysian cuisine. However, developments on the other side of the world were to have an effect on the food we're eating there now.

About that time, Peter Gordon was travelling through Southeast Asia, where his eyes were opened (well, if your journey had started in Wanganui, your eyes would have been, too) to the possibilities of combining ingredients such as lime leaves, coconut, chillies and relishes with plainer Anglo-Saxon food. Gordon's triumph - Pacific Rim or fusion cuisine - appeared on the plates of his Sugar Club restaurant in Notting Hill, London, in 1995.

Like many fashions it may have gone askew - quail, apple and pomegranate coleslaw; dried Australian bush tomatoes mixed with Japanese panko breadcrumbs and Greek cheese - but it is essentially ours and we should either defend it or celebrate it. Even if sometimes, like Russell Crowe, we're not sure which.

Compare Gordon's journey with Cibo's description of its menu: ``the blending of exotic and familiar produce in such a fashion as to hint at a home-cooked meal''.

You may find it hard to join the dots between ``beef carpaccio with twice-baked roasted garlic souffle and poppy seed lavosh'' and whatever you cooked at home last night, particularly if you were caught in motorway traffic, running late and it came out of the microwave.

But underneath the menu-speak of ``red curry of lamb rump with coconut rice and melon raita'' you have an elaborate take on your neighbourhood Thai takeaway's favourite; pick through ``pickled pork loin with kumara rosti and five spiced apples'' and there's that good old New Zealand Sunday standby, pork, spuds and apple sauce, all dressed up and gone to Parnell. Honest food, though, not at all pretentious; cooked and presented by a genius.

After that, bugger the analysis. Just enjoy desserts such as mandarin-scented creme brulee with a passionfruit pannacotta and gingernuts or my indulgence, glazed lemon tart with limoncello semifreddo and white chocolate macadamia meringue.

So, why is Cibo so good? It's the whole darned package. Like so many success stories it starts at the top, and at the top is Philip Sturm, responsible for two of this city's best restaurants (Otto's is the other) and the first of its more elegant, grown-up bars (Coast).

The general manager and maitre d', Jeremy Turner, is unfussed, unhurried, charming, fastidious, and you can tell that each of the front-of-house folk had better be, too, and they are. We've already talked about Fay's food.

Here's a fair comparison. Less than a week before eating at Cibo, we went to the Sugar Club, which is now just off upmarket Regent St. Gordon left in 1998 but the food is still excellent, particularly a spicy kangaroo salad with mint, peanuts and lime chilli dressing.

At both restaurants, the service is first-class but at the Sugar Club non-smokers are dismissed to the cellar; comparing ambience is a no-brainer. We can eat well at Cibo twice for what it cost at the Sugar Club. You do the math.

Open: Lunch Mon-Fri, dinner Mon-Sat

Owners: Philip Sturm, William Laird, Jeremy Turner

General manager / maitre d': Jeremy Turner

Chef: Kate Fay

Food: Creative, adventurous fusions

On the menu: Tempura of soft shelled crab with udon noodles and pickled watermelon rind $17.50; Crispy roast duck with coriander cake and date lemongrass chutney $29.50; Lavender and honey jelly with vincotto strawberries and vanilla bean icecream $12.50

Wine: Predominantly New World, from the journeyman (Kim Crawford unoaked chardonnay, $38) to the chairman of the board (Penfolds Grange Hermitage 1995, $500); mostly French champers and a refined dessert range (Chateau d'Yquem 1990, $780)

Noise: I heard Ella so I was happy

Vegetarian: You only have to ask

Smoking: Bar areas, outside only

Cost (mains for two): $60-plus

Bottom line: Cibo is the Italian word for food but that's likely to lead first-timers up the garden path - or around the courtyard, by the fish-filled water garden, though the sliding glass walls into the rather industrial dining room. Kate Fay's adventurous cuisine blends exotic and familiar ingredients; service is charming and fastidious. Still one of Auckland's best serious restaurants.

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