This was my first dinner in South Africa. It's an eatery for the meat-eaters, with an impressive array of cuts of beef and more exotic meats. There are a few alternatives for the faint-hearted, but you get the impression the waiters aren't going to nod approvingly and say 'excellent choice' if you opt for the grilled chicken. And if you were at all unclear, the row of beef carcasses in the window gives, I think, a fairly clear signal as to what the place is about.
My rump steak was competently executed, but not quite what the introductory text explaining the supreme quality of their extra-matured, exceptionally lean and delicious beef. My dinner companion wolfed down his huge hunk of fillet probably too fast to notice the quality, but he seemed happy enough. He'd been before, and declined any sauce - my garlic mushroom was a small pot of tepid gloop that i pretty much ignoref.
Chips were distressingly hollow - a shadow of the spud they once were - but the baked squash and spinach sides were, again, competent. I finished with an apple and berry crumble that was, for me, a bit of a high spot (I have strong views on crumbles) - and again, his white and dark choc mousses disappeared before they'd had a chance to fight back!
The atmosphere was pleasant, the waiting staff friendly and attentive, and with a bill that rolled in at just over £50 for the two courses and some hefty glasses of house pinotage, pretty good value - except...
...I can't be certain, but it was the second meal I'd had on my first day in town, and the first had been a room-service club sandwich in a reputable hotel. All i know is, something I ate that day gave me a good day and a half of plumbing-centric distress.
Advice? Bring Imodium.
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