Pasha, Waterfront

By EWAN McDONALD for viva

3.30 Phone Ann. "We must go down to the sea again, to the lovely sea and the sky."

Ann: "Why?"

"Because daylight saving is just about to come off and it'll be too dark and too wet and too cold to eat by the harbour."

Ann: "It's been all of the above, all summer, if you'll pardon the phrase."

"We could go to Pasha."

Ann: "Book. You know they told us they were booked out last time we turned up. And you'd already paid for the parking."

6.45 Arrive on Princes Wharf. Put another $10 into the machine to pay for 3 sq m of the wharf that both John Banks and I think that I've been paying for, in my rates, for the past one hundred and something years. That works out to 4.something cents a minute, which over one hundred and something years ...

6.50 Walk, past immediate-past prime minister enjoying a glass at Euro, into Pasha next door. It's owned by the same people. As we go past bright young things crowding the bar and couches, realise that last week's brush-off probably meant the place had been reserved for private function and was not due to crush of diners. Shown to table on terrace by efficient European waitress.

6.51 Return to car (past past-PM) to get glasses.

7.00 Enjoy reading to each other from menu, which is a small book that opens: "Welcome to Pasha - an oasis in which to relax and enjoy fine wine, premium cocktails and fare inspired by the ancient spice routes." Our favourite reading, especially as the author (oops, executive chef Michael James) obviously has similar bedtime reading as us, Elizabeth David and Claudia Roden. The food is divided by Med-coastal countries, Greece, Spain, Turkey, Egypt, Tunisia, Morocco, Portugal, and into tapas and mains.

It's a culinary caravan across the ancient spice routes of North Africa and Southern Europe, such a welcome diversion from the predictable offerings of city restaurants. After a relaxing and enjoyable 20 minutes we are forced to make up our minds from the array of tastes. Decide on several tapas plates and a couple of mains and tell the waitress to bring us glasses of wine to suit.

7.25 While away the wait watching the passing parade and wonder why it's not quite as interesting as sitting on the terrace outside a Mediterranean cafe watching the passing parade. Answers (a) there are hardly any (b) we have to go to work tomorrow.

7.30 Waitress brings a tiered plate of tiny tapas: hot'n'spicy merguez sausage with goat's cheese and dates; dainty pastry packages of spinach and pinenut with yoghurt whipped into cheese; sharp, citrusy chicken and lemon shish kebabs. The flavours, the aromas: wharf on Waitemata begins to take on memories of a night on the promenade at Alicante. And the Babich Gimblett Gravels chardonnay, which seemed a questionable call, bends itself around the strong and mystical tastes.

8-ish Funny how time slips away. Mains arrive. The pork chop from the Spanish page is gorgeous, juicy, ever so slowly roasted, cinnamon and bay leaf at one with the mash, infused with olive oil. Unfortunately that's Ann's. The poussin, roasted with harissa, is overdone, dried out; the potatoes fried some time earlier; there may be some anise in the depths of the bowl. Perhaps that's how they like it in Tunisia. Love the Craggy Range merlot. Agree to stay with the tapas menu next time.

8.30-something These desserts are quite unlike anything else in the city. To Tunis for two favourite flavours in an almond and lemon cake, and a third in the cinnamon syrup. You only have to read "candied orange, espresso and bitter chocolate icecream cake" to know you want it. That you never found it in Spain. And that it is worth the discussion with the GP about the cholesterol that is bound to follow.

9 or thereabouts Small cups of coffee. Daylight saving is almost over: the chill is coming in. Go to pay bill past things that don't look nearly as bright or, in most cases, young as they were on the way in. Retrieve car from park and think, yes, this was enjoyable, because James is focusing on food that is different and honest and fun, even if those mains don't always deliver what they promise. We will go down to the seaside again, probably in a group, and order a whole lot of those little tapas plates, and consider an invasion of the excellent if pricey wine list.

Open: 7 days, midday-late

Owners: Richard Sigley, Brian Fitzgerald

Manager: Miles Newey

Executive chef: Michael James

Cuisine: A book of Mediterranean food

On the menu: Seafood souvlaki with tzatziki $15, crab and whitebait brik with harissa $16.50, bacalhau and cockles with salsa verde $14.50;Veal and pistachio dolmades with lemon and egg sauce $34, slow roast pork with cinnamon and bay on olive oil smash $33, cinnamon and red wine chicken with olives and pilaf $32, roast goat tagine with dates and saffron $32; Iced watermelon with cardamom granite and mint $14, caramelised cinnamon rice with orange water panna cotta $14, almond and cinnamon slice with caramel ice cream $14

Vegetarian: Absolutely

Wine: Top-drawer

Smoking: It's a bar. Sorry, gastropub

Noise: Outside, the gentle lapping of the water taxis

Parking: Princes or Viaduct wharves

Disabled access / toilets: Steps to terrace and restaurant, good facilities

Bottom line: From the people who brought you Euro next door, a sumptuously decorated bar with Michael James' take on "fare inspired by the ancient spice routes". We rave about the tapas platters, but we're not completely convinced they've pulled off all the mains from places like Greece, Spain, Turkey, Egypt, Tunisia, Morocco, Portugal. Great wine, cocktails, people-watching.

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