Herald on Sunday rating:: * * *
Address: 71 Davis Cres, Newmarket
Phone: 520 5664
Open: Weekdays from 7am, weekends from 10.30am
KEY POINTS:
I know more than I ought to about vitello tonnato, having recently nearly cooked it.
I had assembled all the ingredients apart from the veal, which, to my horror, my normally reliable butcher could not supply.
For an hour, on the Vespa and then on the phone, I scouted his likely rivals and ended up back at square one.
"Give us a leg of that lamb," I said.
"I told yer, din I?" said the cheerful, florid, bloodstained Pom. "Yer can't get veal. Wrong time a year."
"No, you didn't," I wailed.
"You told me you didn't have any."
The butcher flashed a look at his mate, who rolled his eyes.
"Look," he said, leaning forward and adopting the tone one might use to an idiot child.
"If I ain't got it, yer can't get it."
The traditional vitello tonnato recipe calls for a tuna mayonnaise; a new-world variant interleaves slices of seared tuna and veal.
But, as vitello is the Italian word for veal, the veal is sort of compulsory, really.
But what's this? The menu at Safran mentions "schnitzel".
Turns out it's beef. The waitress seems surprised that I asked but promises to pass on to chef my suggestion that it be renamed bistecca tonnata or somesuch.
It was an unprepossessing start, but things quickly improved.
I should mention that the Blonde was slightly less impressed than I was.
However, as I explained to her, it's not her name at the top of the page and, with thanks for her assiduous copy-editing, I'll thank her to keep her opinions to herself.
Safran, which has occupied the same spot at the traffic-free end of Davis Cres for a quarter of a century, has the casual feel of a family European bistro.
The panelled walls are demolition timber, the solid tables have the patina that only age and much happily spilled red wine can impart, and the chalkboarded menus (devoid of spelling errors) are completed in old-fashioned lettering.
A handsome tree across the road almost obscures the hideous hulk of the shopping centre and the pavement tables occupy one of the most peaceful streetsides in town.
The owners, a couple of chaps from Kosovo, are cheerful and friendly and our lovely Czech waitress didn't even snigger at my pronunciation of the Czech greetings I asked her to teach me.
It would be overstating it to say the food was a knockout.
The salade Nicoise had neither the tuna nor anchovies which are as important to this Provencal staple as veal is to vitello tonnato.
Instead it was offered with or without "smoked fish" [sic] (I asked for none and it arrived with a wedge of seared salmon).
The pastry on the Blonde's tarte tatin of grilled vegetables was a bit soggy (as it was on the pear-and-caramel tart we would later share for dessert) but the fillings in both were excellent.
I did hugely enjoy the cutely named Matador's Cape, which draped a huge slice of grilled red pepper over a stack of three succulent chicken breasts.
The overall impression was of homely and hearty food cooked by chefs who perhaps need to check the recipes for some more classic dishes.
But the price - we ordered more than we could eat and barely broke $100 - made it a good night.
Wine list: More than adequate. Not too many by the glass.
Vegetarians: A few options.
Watch out for: The European-flavoured staff.
Sound check: Conversation-friendly.
Bottom line: A slice of Europe in Newmarket.
