Herald on Sunday rating: * * * *
Address: 186 Jervois Rd, Herne Bay.
Phone: (09) 360 0714
Open: Lunch from noon-3pm Tuesday-Friday; dinner from 6pm Tuesday-Saturday; brunch 11am-3pm weekends.
Vegetarians: Will have no problem
Watch out for: The decor: like the food, understated
Wine list: Small and succulent
Bottom line: A neighbourhood gem.
KEY POINTS:
Striking the right tone as a waiter or waitress is so easy that I find it astonishing how seldom it is achieved. The Blonde and I are probably not the only 50-something diners who dislike being hailed with a "Hi, guys" by a barely post-adolescent waitress with most of her visible soft tissue pierced. But neither do we like being asked whether sir would care to inspect the wine list at all this evening. Somewhere about halfway between the two will do.
At Pure, a barely three-month-old eatery in the Jervois dining quarter, they got the form of address just right: they didn't use one. They didn't call me "sir" or "mate" and the Blonde was not required to be one of the "guys". The waiters and the waitresses just spoke to us. They're a bit too fond of the "would you like another glass of wine?" approach, and I had to snarl to ensure that they didn't clear away a glass that was far from finished, but at least they didn't call me by a name I don't like.
The only table available on a Friday night was shortly after 6pm (vacate by 7.45pm) which suggests that word has got around. So we had the place to ourselves. This meant that the entire complement of staff had nothing to do but stare at us. Possibly I had been recognised, but certainly we constituted a spectacle of endless fascination. I had to avoid glancing to my left when I took a mouthful for fear of the alarming sight of five long-aproned figures chewing in sympathy.
There have been other restaurants in the space Pure occupies, but I was not moved to eat in them. Pure, by contrast, moves at first glance. I was going to say that it cries out to be experienced, but this is the kind of place that would never do anything as crass as cry out. It whispers rather.
Elegant and uncluttered but warm and welcoming, it recalls Merediths, but without the slightly claustrophobic frosting on the streetfront glass. Cream walls are sparely hung with art and the black banquettes set off the white linen.
As we digested the menu, we were served two small rounds of house-baked bread - warm and delightfully chewy - with a light pumpkin mousse to spread on it. A fragrant lemongrass soup came with a single seafood parcel which was billed as a tortellino, although it was a bit too coarse to deserve that name and was not, in my view, a happy marriage with the delicate soup.
But that was the meal's only false note: the Blonde's generous entrée-size serving of gnocchi came with watercress, blue cheese and walnuts, which made a plain base into something quite special. My kingfish, solid and meaty and lapped by a pea puree, was at once hearty and interesting. The encore - a shared small trifle served in a glass - was, as they say in show business, worth the price of admission.
In a stretch of street with plenty of eating options, Pure is aiming at a niche halfway between fine dining and good tucker. It's a pleasure to report that it hits it, dead centre.
THE BILL
$148.50 for two
Soup $16
Pork belly $18
Gnocchi $17
Gamefish $30
Trifle $15
Wine (four glasses) $52.50
