Our otherwise excellent waiter agreed they were sharing dishes, and handed out extra plates so we could take a sample of each, but we decided in retrospect these Smallers deserved to be eaten and savoured separately. All had been meticulously designed, with strong individual flavours.
We did them no favours by each heaping our quarter on one small plate.
For me, the cooked smoked salmon with horseradish and matchsticks of fresh apple was the stand-out. I love that hot taste of fresh horseradish, which can never be captured in a jar. This was fresh, pungent, and jazzed up the salmon beautifully. The trevally ceviche was complemented by flavour overtones of pear and lime combined with the crunch of witloof and fresh pear and the richness of avocado.
The burrata was great, too. Shaped like an egg, it is made from fresh mozzarella which, when you slice it open, oozes a second creamy cheese. Both went brilliantly with the accompanying sliced capsicum and broad beans, and the capers gave the whole ensemble a good kick.
Last was the venison carpaccio with tamarillo, beetroot and walnut relish, which brought together yet another distinctive combination of tastes.
By then the cool crowd had arrived and we gave up efforts at conversation. We settled back (as best we could on high, backless stools) and concentrated on our main courses.
Again there were four choices: gnocchi with egg, pea and parmesan; market fish; beef rump with aubergine, garlic and shiitake; and wild pork boil-up with kumara, doughboys, watercress and flax seeds, which Pam and I just had to have.
Neither of us had tried boil-up before and were taken aback by our bowls of thin soup.
Floating on top was the watercress, and down below a chunk of pork plus another slice of what had to be the poor boar's tongue.
The tongue, especially, had been boiled to a sponge, and the pork tasted more like ham and certainly nothing like the fabulous, unforgettable wild pork we ate the week Dad shot a couple of boars that were rooting up his best paddock.
Meanwhile, Brian reported that his generous serving of beef rump with aubergine, garlic and shiitake was tough and rather tasteless, too.
We sampled both desserts, pavlova with sour cream icecream and strawberry, and dark Valrhona chocolate with burned tangelo, green cardamom and chia. The pav arrived broken into pieces alongside the strawberry puree and icecream and moved into the delicious category when added to the other ingredients. The chocolate special, with its hint of cardamom, was also delectable.
Orphans Kitchen is a welcome addition to a Ponsonby Rd in danger of drowning in bars, glitz and Asian fusion food.
Orphans is not perfect. Be prepared to experience one mouthful you don't like alongside others that thrill. However, if you're longing for something unique and occasionally wonderful, it's well worth a try.
Our meal: $275 for four entrees and main courses, seven glasses of wine plus two desserts.
Our wine: Short but varied, plus an interesting line-up of beers, spirits and cocktails.
Verdict: Just what Ponsonby ordered, offering unexpected and exquisite flavour combinations, interesting wines, rare whiskeys, and more.
