The look of the room is handsome and restrained: dark wooden floors and furniture, red leather banquettes around the cream walls, illustrations from Alice in Wonderland.
The place was virtually deserted when we showed up last Saturday night. A waiter apparently seconded from The Grand Budapest Hotel attended to a trio of tourists and we had a personable and charming waitress to ourselves.
We opened our account with appetisers ($5) that stilled conversation in favour of silent appreciation: beef tartare on grilled sourdough was paired with pickled shiitake and a trace of fiery chilli (the duel of oily sweetness and peppery astringency is a hallmark of the food) and meltingly moist warm sardines lay on toast topped with creamy feta and pureed broad beans.
Mischievously, I ordered the entree billed as pig's head (the Professor thinks pigs are too lovely to eat), which was a delicious melange of cheek and ear and I don't know what, braised, rolled and sliced into discs for frying. The accompaniments (a fan of crisp radish and apple; creamed turnip mash; rose-pink apple sauce) again showcased the clever opposition of tart and creamy. Next time, I'm ordering two of these and calling it dinner.
To balance my carnivorous excess, the Professor went for a salad of heirloom tomato (lightly pickled baby cucumber; scoops of watermelon; goat's curd and flecks of dried olive). You're getting the idea here, I hope: you may have met these ingredients before, but this food is brand new.
Mains of bluenose (a fat, crisp-crusted fillet) and risotto (fancy mushrooms and ricotta) demonstrated a complete command of the basics and left us in some doubt as to whether we should risk dessert - I had to remind the Professor quite sternly of her duty to readers. She obliged by putting up her hand for the strawberries; I went for the pineapple. Each displayed the same balance of adventurousness and accessibility that had marked the meal: the obvious (yoghurt-tart fromage blanc with the strawbs, coconut marshmallow with the pineapple) bounced off the surprising (both desserts used kinds of peppercorn). Seriously impressive.
Our lovely waitress was anxious that we tell our friends about the place. "No one seems to know we are here," she wailed. Well, I hope this will do: The White Rabbit is the best debut in town since the opening of Orphans Kitchen. Get there, soon.
Entrees: $16-$20; mains $25-$32; steaks $38-$40; desserts $15
Cheers
Hot new Sicilian
Trust the Italians to come up with a fiery 40 per cent alcohol, blood-orange liqueur that smells like freshly picked oranges and begs for a splash of gin, soda water and ice. Meet Solerno Blood Orange Liqueur. This swanky new Sicilian liqueur is available from specialist wine stores or contact Federal Merchants for stockists, phone (09) 578 1821.
When to drink pinot noir?
Central Otago winemaker Tim Kerruish has a thing for old pinot noirs because he reckons we consume pinots when they are so young they don't always put their tastiest foot forward. To prove the point, he sent me a box of Folding Hill Central Otago pinot noirs from 2007 to 2012. I know. It's a tough job and all that jazz. My pick to drink now was the 2007. Shame it has sold out. The best way to replicate the experience is to drink 5- to 7-year-old pinot noirs. Luckily, Tim has a little of his 2011 pinot noir, although not much and it needs to be aged for five years. The wait is worth it. The wines are available from specialist stores or email Tim at: kerruish@ihug.co.nz
By Joelle Thomson, joellethomson.com
