Vivace Restaurant in its new Fort Street home. Photo/Getty
Vivace 85 Fort St 09 302 2303 WE THOUGHT: 13 - Good WE SPENT: $220 for four
It had been a decade since I'd eaten at Vivace and longer still for the dinner companion who'd waited tables at an early incarnation of this inner-city stalwart.
She was 18 then, newly meat-free and the eggplant and courgette risotto was a revelation. "I had it every single night," she reminisced. "I dreamed about that risotto."
In the intervening years, tofu has become as common as toast, scientists have figured out how to make plant burgers bleed and vegetarians are no longer relegated to the rice. None of that mattered when my friend read the menu.
Current food fashion dictates small, seasonal offerings. Diners hunt in packs and their attention span is short. One day you're in, the next day you're polenta. Happily, Vivace did not get that memo and my friend was definitely getting the eggplant and courgette risotto.
"I wonder if it will taste the same," she said happily.
I felt optimistic. Other menu options included chicken wrapped in bacon and roast pumpkin cannelloni. There is little here to scare the horses or your in-laws from Ashburton, Feilding, et al.
Formerly of High St, Vivace has taken over the Fort St space most recently occupied by Beirut. Lament the passing of that very excellent establishment - but know that you can now get a reliably fast and pretty decent meal en route to Def Leppard and/or Cher.
Our waitperson reported Spark Arena foot traffic was making for some very busy nights.
Luckily the kitchen is a well-oiled machine. I missed the romantic opulence of the old Vivace, but the new space affords excellent views of a kitchen that is delivering a whopping 52 different dishes.
Start with hot and cold tapas. Some restaurants refer to these as "small plates" and then deliver, quite literally, on that promise. Not Vivace. The little frying pan of grilled chorizo with apple cider glaze ($12) overflowed with meaty discs; a dish of roasted portobello mushrooms with piquant whipped goat's cheese ($14) had possibly been upsized to cater for our table, but it was a real relief to forgo the often tricky businesses of dividing three into four.
The squid rings ($14) were lemon-peppered and tender; the gorgonzola ($13 with figs and honeycomb and four little slices of bread) was room-temperature creamy. It's not fine dining but it was all, also, perfectly fine. The service was truly lovely. Friendly and attentive, without being intrusive.
Across the table, anticipation was building. The mains menu runs to self-contained plates of duck, steak, chicken and assorted vege, but we'd gone full Mediterranean: pizza, pasta and that risotto ($20).
I'd like to report that an army of angels descended as my friend took her first mouthful.
That baskets of kittens batted playfully at the bowl of brussels sprouts ($10) and a newsreader announced Dr Sarah Potts was still alive.
My friend frowned. "I guess, when I was 18, I was just excited to eat something other than salad?"
The rice was too chalky, the eggplant not melty enough and it needed more chilli. Teenage food dreams shattered, we turned to the turkey pappardelle ($28). I'd had my doubts, but this was good - perfect pasta and deeply savoury shredded poultry. A pedant might note the pangrattato was more crouton than crumb, but overall it was a pleasant (and generously sized) dish.
We also liked the pizza ($20). I think it was seepage from the caramelised onion, but there was a buttery, moreishness to the thin base, and the beef cheek topping was super soft to the bite. The flavour profile will be too sweet for some people, but it finished our evening off perfectly.
Not really. That was an enormous bowl of brussels sprouts to get through and if there are onion rings on the menu, I'm having them. I ate my first in Canada, aged 16. It felt like years before they became a regular thing in New Zealand and I've had my share of disappointments since.
Vivace's are allegedly parmesan-crusted and while I couldn't really taste cheese, the texture was exemplary - crunchy, then soft; deep-fried and delicious. At least one of us would go home with her teenage food crush intact.