Nicolini's, Wellington

By JOHN GARDNER for Viva


There's something slightly desperate about the way absolutely positively Wellington tries to shore up its capital status. The evening newspaper declares itself to be the paper of the most important city in New Zealand, whatever that may mean, and the tourist brochures proclaim Courtenay Place as the country's pre-eminent restaurant boulevard, whatever that may mean.

So it was with humble expectation that as mere Aucklanders, condemned not to live in the windy city, we walked into Nicolini's Bistro which came recommended as one of Courtenay Place's Italian masterpieces.

It is certainly popular. On a Friday night it was a bit like being part of a stage magician's act as the door kept opening and more and more hopeful diners tried to squeeze into an impossibly small space. "Where are they all going?" asked my wife as another dozen appeared, peering into the crowd.

But they were handled with ebullient efficiency by the staff, for what this place lacks in space it makes up in atmosphere - the atmosphere of a hectic, noisy extended Italian family in which you are temporarily included. The decor is deliberately homely with mismatched furniture looking as though it had arrived on the back of a donkey cart.

The extensive menu lays some emphasis on authenticity with a stern note added to some of the pasta dishes: "Parmesan cheese should not be used in the original Italian recipe." Mind you, the potato wedges with the mains seemed something of a concession to Kiwi culture and the "complimentary, non-exchangeable free salad" appeared to owe more to New Zealand than Italy.

But the food is good in that robust, peasant way and good value. I started with potato and ham croquettes in a tomato, basil and mozzarella sauce which provided a substantial beginning to the evening. The generous portion of garlic mushrooms would have kept any vampire at bay.

The main course of fettuccine with rocket, shrimps (and garlic again in case of a cold) was another dish which came with a warning that it was in "olive oil only sauce". This turned out to be true but we should also have been warned about the quantity, which defeated a determined effort to eat it all.

My filled beef rolls were a sort of cannelloni with beef taking the place of pasta tubes around a pleasant filling and a tasty wine and herb sauce which encouraged me to complete the course with no difficulty.

There is a good wine list with a very decent Italian component alongside New Zealand and Australian bottles. Our choice of the Casa Vinicola Cadivin Nero d'Avola elicited an approving comment which, for once, seemed to be more than routine and it certainly went down well.

This is not a venue - at least on a Friday night - for the intimate supper, whispering sweet nothings which you would have to deliver in a voice calculated to cut through a Cooks Strait gale. But Nicolini's certainly provides a good-value, cheerful evening (our bill including wine and coffees was $92), almost living up to Wellington's idea of its own quality.

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