HERALD ON SUNDAY RATING: 4.5/5
Address: Auckland Fish Market,
22 Jellicoe St
Phone: 373 3616
Website: www.afm.co.nz
Open: Daily from 6pm
KEY POINTS:
To be honest, I'm not sure what the name of this place is. An ancient press release, which describes it as a "Hong Kong-style fish restaurant" gives the name above - it's Cantonese for "big food stall" - but "Live Fish", the name on the menu and the bill, gives you a better idea of it.
The fish aren't live when you eat them, of course, but they are about as newly dead as it is possible for them to be without having their little hearts beating.
You say hello to them in tanks, where they are swimming around with no idea what the word "menu" means.
Then you get to say goodbye to one, as it writhes in the bottom of a plastic bucket which is brought to the table by a chap wearing white gumboots and the unsmiling face of an executioner.
He holds the bucket low down, perhaps so the fish won't see a half-eaten relative at the next table.
He mutters the weight - in pounds; none of your fancy kilos here - of your "catch" and you nod. A contract is formed. You'll be charged by one of these antique pounds and a mark is made accordingly on the bill which lies, as in a yum cha restaurant, on your table.
Forest and Bird's Best Fish Guide - www.forestandvirg.org.nz - ranks your dinner (red, amber and yellow; there is no green) according to the sustainability of the fishery. I have looked at it often enough to know that snapper and orange roughy are verboten (let's hear it for kina and kahawai) but alas, I didn't have it with me when our cheerful waitress invited us into the tank room to select the main course.
(This was a task I was left to do alone, either because the Blonde thought hunting and fishing is men's work or because she didn't want to get too attached to dinner.)
Anyway, by this time we had already chosen our cooking style (a waistline-watching steamed) and so the waitress was making the choice for me: blue cod or wrasse were good for steaming, she said.
The nearest wrasse to me was lying on its side so I went for the blue cod. I later discovered that it was a "least environmentally criminal" choice, which was a relief.
I got back to the table and said to the Blonde: "Our dinner's name is Kevin and he sends his best wishes. He's just saying goodbye to the family and he'll be here soon." She flinched.
The fish - which arrived whole apart from its alimentary system - was exquisite, succulent and aromatic. We had prepared for its arrival with a couple of plates of clams, in broths of rose wine and sake respectively - which were quite delicious and as we lingered over the cod, I resisted the temptation to make funeral eulogies which I don't think the Blonde would have appreciated.
All this was washed down with gallons of Chinese tea and a couple of whacking great $8 glasses of house wine. The only disappointment was a plate of soggy vegetables; the "green beans with pork mince and prickles [sic]" at the next table looked like a better bet.
Wine list: BYO - they have a couple of bottles.
Vegetarians: Are in trouble.
Watch out for: The waiter with the gumboots.
Sound check: Boisterous.
Bottom line: Hong Kong at the Viaduct.
- DETOURS, HoS
