Where: 5 City Rd, (09) 309 9273
Our meal: $173 for two entrees, main courses and desserts plus a carafe of red and a glass of white wine.
Our wine: Excellent list and knowledgeable waiters to help you choose. $10.50 - $22.50 (for champagne) by the glass and $44 - $125 by the bottle.
Verdict: The decor may be tattier but Number 5 still turns on a great, if unexciting, dinner.
Out of 10
Food: 7
Service: 8
Value: 7
Ambience: 7
KEY POINTS:
Every time I go to Number 5, the former five-star restaurant alongside the Langham Hotel, I somehow expect to be greeted by fancy waiters, ushered to a small and immaculate table and fed on wings of quail and tongues of locusts.
But that was the outrageous 80s, this is now. Now the flat-out wait staff don't have time to answer the bell but leave you to push your own way in. They do, however, greet you like long-lost friends.
There is nothing cool or modern about Number 5. The atmosphere is exaggerated. There's lots of gilt and elegant evening gowns (on the staff), laughter from the guests, the aroma of delicious, rich food.
Our choice of tables was either simmering nicely alongside the log fire beside a big and noisy table of revellers, or alone and intimate in a small side room. We chose the latter - which would have been great, if it hadn't been overlooking a carpark.
Nothing a couple of gauzy curtains wouldn't fix. The waiters are old enough to have intimate knowledge of both the wine list and the menu.
The restaurant motto is "Life is too short to drink bad wine". So, when I asked for a mellow white with no bite our waiter knew exactly what I meant, an Envoy gewurztraminer.
Brian's carafe of Wishart syrah (admittedly self-selected) was also a hit. As were the complimentary hors d'oeuvres that arrived with them.
Small enough to just sharpen the appetite but so tasty they burst on our tongues, they were unexpected and exactly what was needed to accompany that first drink. Next came the duck liver and venison terrine ($18.50) with its hint of truffle and the smooth richness that comes with a truly French terrine.
Not so the tortellini with pumpkin and feta ($18.50) which was okay, but somehow tasted bland after the first couple of bites. All was forgiven when my roasted duck ($38.50) arrived.
It was crisp on the outside, succulent, without being fatty, and tender within. The potatoes and orange sauce were melt-in-the-mouth. Shame the vegetables were a little over-crisp for my taste.
The special pork belly ($36.50) was also magnificent. The renaissance of belly pork, which an unhappily married friend used to feed her mingy husband in the 60s in the hope that he would drop dead from a heart attack, is about as puzzling as the rise of the lamb shank. Both used to be the cheapest and nastiest meat available - now they are haute cuisine.
Anyhow, this generous square of what used to be pork flaps had been trimmed of all recognisable fat, cooked slow and long to tenderise the meat, then blasted under the grill to produce plenty of crackling.
Brian, who is not allowed such stuff at home in case he keels over from a heart attack, was in heaven. It was tender, rich and delicious, resting on a bed of what was probably mash and, best of all, big. He didn't leave a morsel.
Meanwhile, our waiter kept drifting over to see how we were doing in that matey kind of way, calling me a "good girl" as I, too, gobbled up my duck.
After that, I suppose, it had to be downhill. Neither the vanilla bean creme brulee nor the chocolate whiskey cake ($13.50 each) were brilliant. The brulee's crust was too thin and the creme too runny; the cake a little crumbly and dry for comfort.
But this was the end of a particularly good meal and, after all that marvellous meat, the desserts didn't stand a chance.
They serve wine by the carafe and offer free carparking (sort it out when you book).
