Herald rating: * * * * 1/2
Address: 435 Beach Rd, Mairangi Bay
Phone: (09) 479 5374
Open: Dinner Tues-Sat
Cuisine: Bistro
KEY POINTS:
Whenever food critics such as myself go to the North Shore to eat, you can bet your amuse-bouche someone will belch about the "culinary wasteland" or the "gastronomic desert".
This is becoming a tad, or perhaps a whole side of tad, unfair. Hey, it's got The Engine Room, 8 Point 2, Wine & Roses. Which is rather more than the West's got. Or the East. Combined.
Re-branding, that's what the Shore needs. After a couple of weeks away I'm struck by the similarities - vast numbers of English immigrants drawn by the sun and replica pub replica fish 'n' chip meals; long, straight roads apparently leading nowhere through unending suburbs until a roundabout appears; vast numbers of African emigres cooking over open fires - between the Shore and Provence.
Come with me! Experience the passion, the pleasure, the plonk! Cross the brid... pardonnez-moi, Pont Neuf to the Cotes du Nord. Catch a match at the Stade d'Albany (the team could be called Le Havre but Toulouse seems more appropriate).
Sadly M. le Maire's name doesn't fit the new style. Would Andy Williams consider becoming, say, Charles Aznavour?
Jude and I took one of those long, straight roads through unending suburbs and several roundabouts which ended at Sonya Paget's The Narrow Table.
Paget also came here by a roundabout route: Scotland, mainly at Gleneagles; the Stamford Plaza when it took restauranting seriously; the George in Parnell (anyone noticed that sushi palace has closed? No, I thought not); private chef to the rich and famous - and for this article we may include Bill Clinton here.
Took two years off before The Narrow Table: at heart and soul (and rumps and breasts and fillets) an exercise in vintage bistro. Five or six entrees, similar order of mains, three desserts. Ever-changing menu. Long cooking. With more than a nod to the classics Jude and I have been enjoying in France, tweaked from some of those stopping-off places, and family influences.
She began with smoked eel in a delicate tempura with pickled - sorry, soused cucumber and horseradish mayo. These are strong flavours and, she suggested, may be an acquired taste. I acquired some of it, happily, after wolfing down rabbit stew. Ah, bunny. Source of so many bistro classics; this sauce was creamy and white-winey, light yet full-flavoured with sage and mushroom.
Mains. Coq au vin? Nah, had that last week in Tours. Let's see how Madame does her duck leg, see if it matches Aux Charpentiers' in St Germain: sacre bleu, with pomegranate and orange sauce, it does. Pork belly breaks the rules - you'd struggle to find it in France, cheek's more likely, but Paget offers a sweet, well-roasted slice of tummy.
A mild gripe: though the dishes come with appropriate garnishing, Jude's entree and my main lost half a mark for a dressing more vinegary than piquant. Desserts are similarly simple: - pear in red wine, chocolate cake, or our suitably lemony brulee.
We like this place. Dull would he or she be of soul, or stomach, who didn't, for it's honest, tasty food, stretching beyond the straightforward, from an excellent yet unpretentious kitchen. Friendly and un-fussy service. Fair prices. The clean and unchipped paintwork, the glass-topped tables and hushed conversation hint "restaurant" rather than a dusty, chintzy little bistro in Avignon. That's okay. They can do things their own way in the Cotes du Nord.
