Restaurant review: Bosco Verde, Epsom

Herald on Sunday

5 Jul, 2015 02:15 AM4 mins to read

The room has the feel of a slightly claustrophobic windowless railway carriage. Photo / Getty Images

Address: 583 Manukau Rd, Greenwoods Corner
Phone: (09) 625 4319
boscoverde.co.nz

Bosco Verde is Italian for green forest. Doubtless using that name for a restaurant in this neck of the woods is an in-joke, a hat-tip to William Greenwood (geddit?), who bought the parcel of land that still bears his name in 1842. But it is hard to imagine a less sylvan setting than the featureless block of shops it sits in.

The website advises that it is "now open for business following renovations", so what it used to look like is hard to imagine, since the new decor was last swish when I had a full head of hair and a 70cm waist.

The long and narrow room is reminiscent of a windowless railway carriage, with booths down either side. Cheap wooden shutters appliqued to the walls add to the slightly alarming sense of being held captive. Candles burn in carriage-style holders that sprout from the wall, to which the dessert menus are clipped, perhaps to encourage us to eat our greens.

Whether all this is particularly Italian is open to debate. The spelling on the menu, often a telltale sign, is pretty good. (God alone knows what a "bistecca buon Gustaiao" is but they get "lasagne" right, which is rare).

That menu is what might be described as tried and true, by which I mean that it has become dog-eared from use and the laminating is peeling off. Proprietor Julian Snelgrove proudly proclaims his 26-year pedigree, so perhaps it's meant to add to the vintage impression. Certainly there's something pleasingly homely about the place; at one point a chef came out and gathered up her belongings from one booth so it could be prepared for arriving diners.

But at the business end, Bosco Verde's not half bad. Even though the place was only half full, the food took ages to come - the waitress kept flashing us pleading looks - but when it did, it banished my initial misgivings.

It's not pure Italian, but rather comfort food with Italian grace notes, heavy on the sauces, most of which are creamy enough to make a Fonterra accountant smile. If I say that it is what a really good Italian restaurant used to be like 26 years ago, before lots of Italians arrived and set up shop, I mean it as a description and not a criticism. If you're looking for subtlety and originality, this ain't the place to go, but it may be just the ticket if you're hungry at dinner time. And your veges are included, which you don't often see these days.

We chose mainly from a list of specials, some of which are exactly as stated on the menu. A starter of ravioli with beef and pumpkin, smothered in a creamy sauce that foregrounded smoked paprika was generous in size and lip-smackingly good, but the Professor's unremarkable vol au vent of artichoke and mushroom had too much of the latter and not enough of the former.

Snapper fillets atop a creditable risotto were nicely moist, if rather small, although the kitchen's obsession with finishing touches meant a drizzle of basil pesto that was quite unnecessary. My roast veal, by contrast, was exemplary, firm to the cut but tender and juicy in the mouth, although more restraint was needed: a wave of chestnut and orange sauce swamped the meat's delicate flavour.

I've been learning a bit about pizza recently and a glance at a nearby table was enough to tell me that the pies here are not state-of-the-art. But this is an honest and unpretentious suburban eatery that touches most of the bases.