Halo, St Heliers

By BRENDA WARD for canvas

Now I know how it feels to be a millionaire. Accidentally.

It all started with the wine, as we sipped San Pellegrino and scanned the fat booklet that is the winelist at St Heliers restaurant Halo, occasionally looking up to see if the bay was still that incredible aqua and if the sun had gone down.

We got stuck on page 12 (out of 19) in the selection subtitled Tuscan Sangiovese. Somewhere in our memories drifted a bottle of sangiovese slipping down somewhere in Tuscany at sunset and we lingered there, checking each fabulously Italian entry. An average bottle of wine was $59, and the most expensive $400, so as it was a special occasion, we settled on a Le Volte Tenuta dell'Ornellaia, '01 ($70). That one, we pointed.

The menu was lighter, and much less expansive, so we decided to start with Roasted Mini Peppers, stuffed with Israeli couscous, parmesan risotto and herbed garlic focaccia for him, and the Peppered Rare Beef served with snow pea tendrils, carrot, celery, daikon and sesame vinaigrette for me (both $18.50).

Then (tah-dah) the wine arrived. "I've been advised this wine would benefit from decanting," the waiter charmingly told us as he reverently carried the wine wrapped in a napkin to the table. Then he triumphantly returned with a ship's decanter and lovingly transferred the wine into it at the table, with a steady hand and a nervous smile.

People were beginning to stare and we were feeling very special - and rather worried as he left.

"We didn't get the $400 bottle by mistake?" I hissed. He shrugged. "We'll put it on the Visa and pay it off." We adopted the relaxed posture of people who always order $400 bottles of wine.

Then another waiter appeared. "With the compliments of the kitchen, would you enjoy a crostini with olive tapenade and a glass of wine each to complement it?"

We were stunned, but rather enjoying the attention. Anyway it was too late: the bottle was opened, decanted and partly drunk. My, it was fine, full-bodied and richly coloured. You could smell the Tuscan hills. Another glass and we decided we could drink like this every week, Visa permitting.

Bruce's peppers were laid on a long Japanese-style platter. My salad was fresh and tasty, simply prepared with finely sliced pink beef laid on the leaves.

The theme, of fresh ingredients, simply prepared, continued with the main courses. My Roasted Pork Roulade ($25.50) was wrapped in a crunchy crackling, moist and mouthwatering, with a focaccia stuffing that was a little too strongly flavoured for the delicacy of the meat, with pernod-scented apples and port wine jus. Bruce's Roasted Salmon Fillet ($20.50) with shaved fennel, lime and peanut salad, Asian greens and spicy coconut sauce, was finely textured and lightly flavoured.

As the last glass of sangiovese slid elegantly down with the sun, we noticed others receiving the complimentary canapes and being lavished with attention as they sipped their champagne, and decided we'd have felt supremely special, even if the wine wasn't the $400 bottle. And luckily, it wasn't.

Ambience: Elegant and formal, with scrupulous service, for that special night.

Cost: $177.40 for two entrees, two main courses, bottled water and a bottle of wine.

* Read more about what's happening in the world of food, wine, party places and entertainment in canvas magazine, part of your Weekend Herald print edition.