Herald on Sunday rating: 4.5/5
Address: 185 Victoria St, Christchurch
Phone: (03) 379 4006
Email: www.saggiodivino.com
Open: Seven days from 5pm
KEY POINTS:
Sunburned and relaxed after a particularly splendid road trip, I arrived at this well-reviewed eatery near Hagley Park with a pretty dim view of South Island hospitality.
It was once axiomatic that the further south you moved in New Zealand, the warmer the welcome got. In a week's driving from Christchurch to Westland and back, I scarcely detected any trace of service. The whitebait were lovely but the humans were too often horrible. Outright hostility was far from uncommon.
In a cafe at Punakaiki they advertised that attitude with a sign reading: "We do not fill water bottles." (Why not? In fact, why not a self-service tap? It's water for goodness' sake.) In Springfield, my mild query ("Is this venison?") about a venison pie received a whiplash, tart-tongued reply that the law required the pie to be only 17 per cent meat (it's 25, actually). The sign outside had trumpeted the friendly service. "What are you like when you are unfriendly?" I asked.
The Waterline Restaurant at the Punakaiki Rocks Resort has as fine a view as anyone could wish for, the food was very good and the teenage waitress friendly and obliging. But elsewhere the expression "the customer is always right" did not seem to have taken root.
So when we finally made Christchurch, the Saggio di Vino waitress - a middle-aged woman with a European accent I couldn't quite place - restored my faith. Interested both in us and in the food she was representing, she was friendly without being obtrusive. A Frenchman who deputised for her from time to time had the playful demeanour of someone who likes his work and he was well-informed about the wines.
The place has won awards for its by-the-glass wine list and, as the name (which means "taste of wine") suggests, wine is something they take seriously here. Perhaps excessively so. A recent refurbishment included putting a plate-glass window in the floor with a view directly into the wine cellar. I found it most disconcerting to have the floor disappear just as I stepped inside and, to judge by the flinching of others to arrive, I was not alone.
It seemed to me an unnecessarily showy touch anyway in a restaurant whose ambience is mostly devoid of showiness: the simple decor - dark furniture, caramel walls - is offset by sparingly deployed artworks (some fine John Pule prints) and, near the bar, a rack of hooks cluttered with coats, which gives it the feel of a neighbourhood brasserie.
Judged by its food alone, though, this is a winner. From a menu which included a $280 serving of caviar, the Blonde chose some of that sublime Spanish ham called jamón ibérico that we so enjoyed last year at Bellota.
The helping was stingy for the price and was machine-shaved rather than carved, which any Spaniard will tell you is a solecism for such a delicate meat. But a carpaccio of beef, lapped with lemon oil and sprinkled with anchovies and capers, was a treat; the rack of Canterbury lamb on a cauliflower gratin was a melt-in-the-mouth credit to the province I had twice crossed; and a tarte de citron the equal of any in Paris.
All in all, it was a rare pleasure. I've almost forgotten that venison pie woman.
Wine list: From excellent to sublime
Vegetarians: One entree, one main
Watch out for: The hole in the floor
Sound check: Conversation-friendly
Bottom line: A seriously good experience
- Detours, HoS
