Merlot, Auckland City

By EWAN McDONALD for viva

Harry Lime was a good friend. The Third Man taught that a movie didn't have to have a place where the story stopped so the cast could break into singing "O-O-O-Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain", that the good guy didn't always win, and that the truth was never pure and rarely simple.

Harry Lime lived and lied and died and came back to life in Vienna. Not in the aristocratic quarters.

No, Harry was a man for the other end of town, the shadowy alleys and smoky cafes like Hawelka where Kafka wrote his tortured novels (while waiting to be served, if rumour and personal experience can be believed).

So where is this reverie taking us? To Merlot, in O'Connell St, because we are sitting, well into the evening, over a merlot. What else?

It feels timeless. It feels mature. It feels as though we are not in Auckland, for a night, but in the centre of one of the great European cities.

Cars nudge down the narrow lane. Concreted above the shop frontages is a long-forgotten name, "The British Traders' Insurance Co. Ltd.", that could be one of those fronts for a business with dark connections to the Foreign Office. Inside it is dark, the burgundy walls help there. It is crowded, and the crowd is not young and chatty but older and more inclined to murmur. And Ella and Louis are singing to each other as if they were lovers which we know they never were, and if you are speaking of ageless and smoky and mature ...

Merlot was a favourite place for lunch or dinner when Martina Lutz was in the kitchen and John Ingle would check your order and come to the table and, so discreetly, suggest: "I see what you've ordered. Perhaps you'd like to try a taste of this new one from Waiheke, because it does seem to go rather well with ..." and you would agree and be seduced.

Erwin Zimmet used to work with Lutz and Ingle and bought Merlot when they moved uptown to Number 5 two years ago. Apart from fitting the aforementioned timeless European cafe template right down to his accent and black polo-neck, Zimmet has an impeccable nose and palate for this country's finer wines, and the style to make similarly discreet and appropriate suggestions.

Perhaps you don't really come here for the food because, tell the truth, it is good but unspectacular European bistro fare like braised pork belly or bangers and mash, or a crumbed veal fillet on potato salad (see, I wasn't wrong about that Vienna feeling).

What you come here for is the wine. You would expect merlot, and you have a dozen choices. As many pinot noirs, red wine blends and chardonnays, half a dozen champagnes or traditionelles, a similar range of sauvignon blancs, pinot gris ...

Hang on, I hear you say, that's not a wide range. Aha! This is a discriminating selection from someone who knows what they're buying, selling and suggesting.

Of course, you will pay for the privilege: it wasn't until I was checking the account that I notice we'd coughed up $15 for each glass of the merlot mentioned earlier, which is more than the average Kiwi spends on a bottle in the supermarket.

But this is a crowd that knows what it is paying for. You know they're (ahem) mature when the place empties out around 9.30pm so they can toddle back to those apartments at the Viaduct that they bought because they were promised eternal youth and life on the edge, or at least the edge of the couch.

That's when Zimmet takes off Ella and Louis and puts on Dusty Springfield's great gay girlie hits and the place ... well, if not rocks, gently pops.

Open: Lunch Tue-Fri 12-2pm, Dinner Mon-Sat 6-10pm

Owner: Erwin Zimmet

Food: Eurobistro

On the menu: Penne with roasted eggplant, capsicum and flat mushrooms and tomato sauce $19.50; Lamb shanks with mashed potatoes, vegetables and red wine jus $24.50; Moccacino tart with chocolate sauce, icecream and cream $9.50; Vegetarian Pasta, salads

Wine: That's what you come here for

Noise: Ella, Louis, Dusty

Smoking: Goes with the territory

Disabled access/toilets: Tricky

Parking: In the CBD?

Bottom line: Timeless, mature, Merlot feels as though it is in the heart of one of the great European cities. The food is good but unspectacular European bistro fare like braised pork belly or crumbed veal fillet, but the wine is a discerning and discriminating selection, graciously selected and served by the host, Erwin Zimmet.

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