The Commons
21 Hurstmere Road
Takapuna, Auckland
Hours: Commons Bistro open 6:30pm – late Thursday to Saturday. Garden & Bar open 12pm-late 7 days. 

A very, very good surprise. Although The Commons has been open in Takapuna for a couple of years, I have managed to live 5km away without ever paying it a visit – friends had a bad experience a few years back, it was viewed (at least in my mind) as a bit of a flash burger-oriented bar space to go for drinks, and perhaps a little pricy for my student budget. An error of judgement, I now know – and my only regret is not visiting sooner.

Now one of the longer standing restaurants in the up-and-coming eating area of central Takapuna, surrounded by the likes of Josh Emmett’s Madam Woo, Bird on Wire, Zomer, Mexico, and Takapuna Beach Cafe, The Commons has two sections: the outdoor, heated ‘Garden’ and downstairs bar area, as well as the more subdued Bistro area upstairs. The latter was where we ate – a spacious, relaxed ambience created by high timber ceilings, floor-to-ceiling views over the Gardens bar area, and uncrowded seating – no bumping elbows with your neighbours here, unlike many eateries.

The evening we dined was one of the first days of The Common’s new spring menu, which showcases some of New Zealand’s best spring produce –  new season peas, asparagus, zucchini flowers and spring smoked lamb all make an appearance. Divided into ‘to snack’, ‘shared beginnings’, ‘large plates’ and ‘to share’, the menu is wide ranging and creative, with an Italian slant – start with smoked salmon tartare Tuscan style with charred ciabatta ($14), or porcini anancini with heirloom tomato, gremolata & parmesan ($14). Shared beginnings are plates – spring vegetable mezze, kitchen charcuteries, or raw fish, all with accompaniments. Large plates are main size, though if in a smaller group you could share – the pig belly with beer, fennel, grape & charred carrot ($34) and the wholemeal gnocchi with ricotta, zucchini flower & heritage tomato ($32) were particularly tempting. Daily primal cattle cuts are also offered, as are the larger Savannah dry aged prime rib (700g- $79) and slow roasted lamb shoulder (800g- $75). Vegetables come as sides, and are worth ordering – charred spears of asparagus come with a golden crumb topping, new potatoes are simply dressed with sea salt & lemon chive, while heirloom tomatoes are highlighted by sesame & basil (all $8).

We began with the eggplant caviar – smoky and babaganoush-like with deep eggplant flavour, basil and toasted sesame, it was a good start. The crisp olive oiled flat-breads it came with were possibly a little too crisp, flat and oily, however – maybe a house-made toasted foccacia would have been a better fit. Roasted scallops came next – large and perfectly golden, they were accompanied by a herby rosemary & garlic butter that I could have smeared on anything, anytime and been happy.

The day boat fish sounded too good to bypass: served with charred squid (the tenderest we had ever experienced, thanks to a kiwifruit marinade), heirloom tomato salsa, avocado puree and chorizo oil. The lighter flavours put the spotlight on the fresh, crispy edged fish, and it was one of our favourite dishes, though I still have qualms about the use of avocado puree in dishes, as it continues to seem to lack the flavour of the real thing.

Rich, charred-edged chunks of King salmon were artfully arranged with asparagus, acidic pink grapefruit, and a mint emulsion – though a complete contrast to the softer, delicate flavours of the former fish plate, the salmon and grapefruit just seemed to work, and the charred, wrinkly asparagus pulled it all together.

Finally, the smoked lamb was like spring on a plate – tender and pink, and served with fresh broad beans, peas and grilled zucchini on a base of a creamy garlic emulsion.

Dessert was not even a question – I had to try the malt icecream with soft chocolate, honeycomb and oat crumble. For a dark chocolate person, this was out of the ordinary. A scoop of dark, rich and chocolately as chocolate gets mousse was covered with a light, foamy malt ice cream and sweet, crisp textures of honeycomb, almost cornflake-like to look at. The photos and initial appearance do not do justice to the chocolate explosion it is – I would go back just to eat it again.

Service was very attentive and friendly, if a little disjointed, and dishes arrived quickly without being on top of each other.

The Commons seems to cover a gaping hole in North Shore dining – the upmarket bistro model, serving sophisticated, modern seasonal food – slightly less fine-dining than The Engine Room, yet more so than Mexico. The sort of place you could take your parents, a date, or just have a satisfying dinner out.  I can’t wait to try the summer menu.

Rating: 8/10
Don’t miss: the chocolate malt dessert.
Do: book ahead, and ask for a table overlooking the Gardens
Features: takes bookings, bistro area and menu + bar area and menu

* We dined courtesy of The Commons, but all thoughts, ideas and opinions are my own.

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The French Cafe
210 Symonds St, Eden Terrace, Auckland
Hours: Dinner: Tues–Sat, Lunch: Friday
+64 9 377 1911

The French Cafe. It had been on my wish-list for quite some time (read: years!) before my parents treated me to dinner there on the weekend before I headed back to Melbourne for another semester of university. After a few dull and uninspiring food experiences in Auckland over the past month, I hoped against hope that this would break the mold: one of Auckland’s longest running fine dining restaurants, The French Cafe is currently owned by the husband and wife team of Simon Wright, executive chef, and Cheghan Molloy Wright, restaurant manager, and has collected countless accolades over the years, including numerous Metro Restaurant of the Year awards. It did not disappoint.

Located on an unassuming corner of Symonds Street, The French Cafe oozes elegance. Dark wood furnishings compliment the white tablecloths, hanging globes of light and the artwork: Karl Maughan paintings which more than make up for the lack of view. It doesn’t end there – around the corner is the kitchen, with a open panel giving glimpses of chefs hard at work to another room of diners, who are also treated on the opposite side to a glass wall through to the courtyard, used for dining in the summer months. And don’t go without seeing the new private dining room: airy, spacious and sophisticated, complete with a private kitchen, high ceilings, light wooden flooring and large sliding windows opening out on to the lush edible garden area – I dream of holding an event here.

Because our booking was from 6pm to 8:15pm, we were unable to try the six course tasting menu, which is a three and a half hour feast. No matter – the four course à la carte looked just as inviting and had the bonus of being able to choose from a wider range of dishes. A small taster of the evening to come arrived first: bite-size pieces of salty, gooey goat’s cheese encased in a thin, slivered wrap of zucchini, crumbed and fried. Confusement reigned for a moment with the next course – we had all ordered different entrees, hadn’t we? But no, this was just another amuse-bouche – bowls of delicately placed slow-caramelised onion with creamily filled interiors was transformed with french onion soup broth poured over it at the table – salty, strong and gone in minutes.

The entrees arrived quickly: my snapper cerviche, fresh, light and imbued with coconut and chunks of creamy avocado, given some bite with chilli and lime, texture with puffed rice. A triumph. The baked scallops were just as good – plated on piles of salt, the scallops meld with the creaminess of cauliflower cheese, rich truffle butter and parmesan perfectly. Dad, who incidentally ended up having many broths poured over his dishes at the table, loved the egg yolk confit, strongly flavoured with iberico ham and a meaty broth with smoked potato and buttered leek.

Warm, crusty house-baked bread rolls came out next, served with slabs of salty seaweed-laced butter and a smoked version. And the second course. A simple short pastry tart base is topped with the earthy sweetness of onion, fig and beetroot, a touch of red wine syrup and a dollop of show-stopping roasted french goat’s cheese. My carmelised pork belly arrives in a glistening slab, nestled in with roasted carrots and rich carrot puree, mildly spiced flavours of gingerbread and texture of finely chopped almond, and a langoustine (which, I realised when I saw it, is a species of lobster). The Akaroa salmon was Dad’s choice, served in a shallow bowl with crayfish, salty wakame butter and crisply dehydrated brassica leaf, completed at the table with the salty Japanese flavoured hot dashi broth. All a celebration of contrasting textures and complementary but innovative flavours – we couldn’t get enough.

Welcome gaps between the courses were offered – we might have struggled if it had been full steam ahead all evening. Friendly but not overbearing, you are hardly aware of your cutlery being changed and drinks topped up, or even of other diners around you – the service is seamless.

Of the third round, Mum’s was the clear winner: aged beef cooked medium rare, tender and rich, topped with a simple wasabi butter and samphire, a green coastal-growing edible plant, plated alongside the contrasting slow roasted eggplant, black garlic and pumpkin. The roast duck leg, permeated with citrus, was similarly devoured, with wafer-thin crispy skin and a sweet kumara mash alongside. The market fish was snapper, though perfectly cooked, flaking with a crispy outer skin, it was the least punchy dish of the night: served with a sweetcorn puree with small bites of lobster, vibrant broccoli stems and a crunchy topping of pearl barley and basil, I felt like it needed something more – though this was probably a product of the extraordinarily high bar set by every other plate.

Dessert didn’t need a debate – it would have been unthinkable to miss it. I couldn’t pass the first item on the menu: textured chocolate. Fragments of chocolate meringue are propped up around a spoon of caramelised milk chocolate sorbet and a cascade of hazelnut crumble with grated chocolate shards, all offset by carefully chosen, sharp, juicy segments of fresh mandarin. Best dessert was hotly contested by the deconstructed lemon meringue option chosen by Mum, where piped towers of gooey, distinctively sour Italian lemon meringue are lightly browned with a blowtorch and coupled with lemon curd, textural pastry crumb, both fresh and freeze-dried blueberries, a scoop of white chocolate sorbet surrounded by thin, crisp white chocolate meringue pieces and garnished with a sprinkle of white chocolate powder.

An oasis of calm on busy Symonds Street, it seems as if The French Cafe can do no wrong. Confident and unobtrusive service offers modern yet unpretentious French cuisine making the most of New Zealand produce, with techniques polished through years of innovation and tireless work in The French Cafe kitchen: it is a must try. The best restaurant experience I have ever had in Auckland, hands down.

Rating: 10/10
Pro tip: book ahead if you have a specific date in mind as they are in high demand
Don’t miss: anything, really, but the lemon meringue dessert is particularly good
Features: six course tasting menu (must book for 3.5 hours), functions room with private kitchen
Price range: $100-140 per person ($140 for tasting menu), plus alcohol

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Peasant
191 Dominion Road, Mt Eden
09-638 6403

Vietnamese is one my favourite cuisines: a culture of street food, it features fresh, zingy herbs, snappy sweet-sour fish sauce, lime and palm sugar dressings, soft piles of handmade rice noodles and crispy, fluffy baguettes stuffed with banh mi fillings. News of the opening of Peasant, a Vietnamese eatery in Mt Eden, followed by a few stellar reviews recently in the NZ Herald  and last October in Viva, then quickly caught our attention.

In terms of fit out, Peasant is just what it suggests. Floor to ceiling windows and white-washed walls are simply adorned with a couple of old family photos, while plain light bulbs with knotted cords hang from the ceiling, a subtle reminder of the tangled power lines of Vietnam. It isn’t warm, with relatively harsh lighting and and minimalist wooden and stone furnishings, but it works – you wouldn’t find much more in Vietnam either.

The menu is deceptively long: a small sheet of brown paper hides a range of share plates, priced from $12-19. The more traditional Vietnamese dishes of banh mi and bowls of pho are available for lunch only, though a range of share plates are around all day, from smaller dishes of rice paper rolls and chicken wings to larger offerings of sirloin steak and roast duck.

Salmon rice paper rolls started out strongly: fresh and healthy, the rich hot-smoked king salmon coupled nicely with rice noodles and herbs, though more of the latter were needed for an authentic Vietnamese pop of flavour. The pork rolls with dried shrimp and woodear mushrooms were expected to be similar, so we were surprised when they came out deep-fried. However, these were another highlight, with a hands-on method of wrapping the hot, crispy spiced pork mince roll in a lettuce leaf bundle before devouring. 

A bowl of sticky chicken wings and drumsticks arrived next, thickly coated in a sweet and salty soy sauce marinade. These, along with the cornflake chicken, where schnitzel-like pieces of chicken were covered in a crispy cornflake coating and set in a smear of rich lemongrass aioli, went down a treat with the boys but lacked a freshness and depth of flavour that would be expected from Vietnamese.

The crispy pork belly was disappointing: crispy, yes, but dry, chewy pieces swam in a slightly sickly-sweet hoisin sauce – it wasn’t the thick, slowly caramelised pork cuts with fresh herbs and sharp apple flavours of other Asian-fusion eateries. The lamb skewers were decent, but soy was again a dominant flavour. Crispy squid was Dad’s pick: a generous serve of squid was served on a layer of sriracha mayo, but crispiness was missing from the squid and the expected fiery blast of chili never came.

We fared slightly better with the larger plates: angus sirloin, thickly sliced and covered in a garlic rice wine sauce, was cooked medium rare and went well with the side of broccolini and almonds we had ordered – though here again, innovation was absent in the slightly overdone broccolini presented with a pile of raw sliced almonds.

The most authentic dish of the night – and my favourite – was the market fish, similar to the Vietnamese bun cha ca. Perfectly cooked tarakihi marinated in turmeric and pepper is served with rice noodles, roasted peanuts, a herby green salad and a sharp nuac cham dressing. I could have eaten the whole plate myself.

Service was unhelpful – clearly on perhaps her first night on the job, our waitress was unable to tell us whether what we had ordered would likely be enough, or even identify what dish she was delivering from the kitchen.

With many dishes weighed down by heavy creamed dressings and cooked in copious amounts of soy and hoisin sauce, Peasant is more of a westernized-Vietnamese/non-descript South-East-Asian eatery, lacking the essential herbs and flavours of an authentic Vietnamese meal (though, granted, we did not eat at lunch time so were unable to try the banh mi and pho). It may be a fun place to eat with friends, for a cheap bowl of pho as a lunch stop, or for a quick dinner before the rugby at nearby Eden Park – but as it stands, Peasant is not worth crossing town for.

Rating: 5/10
Don’t miss: the market fish or salmon rice paper rolls
Pro tip: dress warmly – it does get a bit chilly indoors.
Features: share-plates, bookings

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Kong
599 Church St, Richmond
Hours: 7 days, 11am-late

Part of The Lucas Group, Kong is the Korean BBQ sister of infamous Melbourne restaurant Chin Chin, and already commands similar wait-times with its no booking policy. It does result in a higher table turnover, however, especially when coupled with the successful share-plate style of rolling out dishes to diners in no particular order and as fast as the chefs can make them. Using contrasting white walls with green lighting, large fluorescent panels depicting pandas and bowls of ramen (their latest offering here), and a projector directed out the window playing a massive game of pacman on the white-washed outside wall while chefs in red caps rush around the open kitchen, Kong creates a contemporary look and buzzing atmosphere: subtly hinting to diners that yes, this is the place to be. Having visited a few times before, we made sure to arrive early enough (around 540) to avoid the wait, and were seated at the bar straight away. The place was pumping soon after with lines out the door and a pop music playlist – but surprisingly still managed to keep the volume at a level where you could easily converse with those next to you.

The menu is extensive, encompassing variations of roti-rolls, sticky chicken wings, buns, small share plates, larger meat platters from the pits and ovens, sticky pork ribs and a short beef rib, rice and noodle dishes and vegetable sides plates. Prices range from $7 for a bun to $36 for a full set of BBQ baby back pork ribs (marinades are soy & sesame or Kong crazy horse chilli), with most medium plates around the $15-20 mark.

The salmon roti-rolls are something I have never been able to bypass, even with repeat visits ($12.5): flaky, warm and tender roti bread wraps up a filling of rocket, spicy tomato salsa, and salmon. Yes, it will get messy, and salsa juice might drip down your hand, but stylish rolls of paper towel sit on each table for that eventuality.

Next up are the buns: this little bites are flavour explosions encased in the fluffiest, softest bao dough I haver ever tried. The spicy pork belly with pickled cucumber and Kong crazy horse chilli ($7) has a bit of a kick, but it works well with the sweet pork belly slice and generous piece of crackling in the bun. Almost as good is the soft shell crab ($8.5) – a crispy soft shell crab piece is served with a smear of a creamy salted duck egg relish and coriander leaves, contrasting with the velvety bun outer.

Bec’s favourite ever dish is in the small bites section: the Nasu Miso ($14). Both sweet and salty, chunks of miso caramelized eggplant are served wrapped in a square of cool ice-berg lettuce and topped with sesame seeds, chervil and chilli. In fact, she stated that she would marry this eggplant, or, at least, any man who could make it for her on a regular basis”. A must-try for eggplant lovers.

A larger noodle dish rounded out our meal: the Tobanjan sweet potato noodles with chicken, wood-roasted eggplant and coriander ($16). Chewy glass noodles (that you would never pick as being made from sweet potato) are paired with generous stir-fried chicken, more sweet roasted eggplant, lettuce, and a hint of coriander. It may not sound like much, but, elevated by the noodles, this warm and comforting dish was a hit in my books.

To finish, we chose the apple and walnut tart with miso butterscotch and caramelised whisky ice cream. One of my favourite restaurant desserts, for sure. Crisp short crust pastry encases a filling of tender, caramelised apple slices and a sweet walnut crumb, topped with more salted caramel sauce with a scoop of whisky ice-cream melting down into the tart, melding with the caramel to create mouthfuls of deliciousness.

On a previous visit (hence the slightly different photos), we tried the Kong Bossam BBQ tray ($29), a mixture of many of the different barbecue meats on one platter. Pulled chicken and pork, pork belly and beef brisket are served with lettuce for wrapping and condiments of pickles, kimchi and walnut ssamjang. This was not as stand out as the other dishes I have eaten eat Kong – this beef brisket and pulled chicken were on the dry side, and to me the flavours didn’t really jell. However, this is a good option if you want to try a whole lot of the wood-fired meat at once, but probably better if you have 3 or 4 people to share it with. We also ordered the corn ($8): barbecued with chilli salt and miso butter, this tender, charred-edged corn is a winner.

Kong is a must-visit restaurant in Melbourne at the moment – punchy flavours, a huge range of well-executed dishes with something for everyone (there are many vegetarian options) and a hip vibe – a meal there with good company can’t help but put you in a good mood. Just be warned about the no bookings policy, and if you really can’t handle going early or can’t face going out, try the take-away options online. PLUS they do express lunch options including spicy pork and sesame ramen and a Korean bento box – what more could you want?

Rating: 8.5/10
Don’t miss: the nasu miso eggplant, buns, roti, or the apple-walnut tart
Pro tip: go early to avoid the queues
Features: takeaway, express lunch options,  no bookings, share-plates, outdoor seating

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The Town Mouse
312 Drummond St, Carlton

Winter hours: dinner Thursday-Sunday from 530/6pm, and lunch Friday-Sunday from midday (closed Tuesday and Wednesday)

Finishing our assessments for the semester yesterday along with an unspent Good Food Guide gift card meant a prime opportunity to try a normally out-of-price-range restaurant in Melbourne. The Town Mouse was an obvious choice, run by fellow New Zealanders originally from Wellington’s Matterhorn restaurant and recently rated 18th in Australia by the Australian Financial Review’s top restaurants (as voted by the nation’s top chefs and restauranteurs). From outside, a warm yellow glow emanates from the small and unpretentious eatery, the sort of place that tempts passersby to duck inside and escape cold Melbourne evenings. Inside, The Town Mouse is dominated by a curved dark oak bar, while sleek black tiled walls are made to glitter by hanging light fittings. Clean lined timber stools and tables create a simple but striking atmosphere: more wine bar than restaurant, but maybe that’s the aim. The service is smooth – efficient and unobtrusive but exceedingly friendly, offering advice when navigating the menu and ensuring dishes come quickly without seeming rushed. Bookings are in two hour slots, made to feel like the perfect time to eat leisurely and appreciate each successive offering.

You start with the complementary house-made sourdough – thick, warm and pillowy slabs of crusty bread served with a dollop of tahini-like sesame butter. Simple but elegant, and I had to restrain myself from asking for more. The menu is divided into four sections: to start, featuring bite sized appetizers, raw, with options like Oyster, chardonnay vinegar sorbet & lemon, and Calamari, grapefruit, clam, oregano and fermented elderflower, vegetables, and meat & fish to share.

The goat’s cheese profiteroles are a must-order: a small bite of crisp choux pastry sits on a bed of house-made honey (the hives are on the roof) and encases sharp, salty goat’s cheese mousse, matched with a touch of caraway and thyme. Layers on layers of flavour in an all-in-one mouthful. Next came the snapper, where meltingly tender fillets are topped with thick, woody spears of charred broccoli and a nutty, delicate crumb of clam, capers and olive. Perhaps the least punchy flavour of all of our dishes, but still one of my favourites.

We were granted a small reprieve before the bulk of our meal arrived – our two vegetable dishes acting as sides to the lamb. Of those, the cauliflower was the standout. Half a head of sweet and earthy roasted cauliflower, tender yet still holding crunch, is paired with roughly chopped almond and salty broad bean miso cream. Those of The Town Mouse do push boundaries with ordinary vegetables not normally considered pillars of culinary brilliance, demonstrated again by the famous red cabbage. A whole hunk of cabbage is cooked sous vide, losing its natural bitterness and becoming warm and tender, then slow roasted with prunes and chunks of caramelised apple and dusted with a layer of parmesan. Though not much to look at, this dense, rich (more than a touch of cream is in there!), and surprisingly sweet dish was easily the best cabbage I have encountered.

Braised lamb is our final main and arrives hidden beneath curly leaves of kale. Peeking underneath reveals the lamb – tender chunks of meat are paired with small artichoke cubes, a hint of lemony acidity, cardoons (artichoke thistles, I discovered, on looking them up) and the chargrilled fibrous kale.

The dessert menu presents another intriguing flavour mix. On recommendation, we try the lime posset, where a layer of lime is topped by green apple foam for a sour, tangy mouthful balanced by a coarse (and on trend) matcha and white chocolate crumb. Texture is lent by the thin, crisp shards of translucent sugar holding the whole structure together, while the fresh dill gives unique and subtle herb undertones.

Ordering the chocolate dessert was a no-brainer, though it was completely different to what I had envisaged. Layers of strongly cidered thin slices of pear are topped with a liquorice crumb and covered in a mound of chocolate mousse and crushed pumpkin seeds. Not dark enough to overwhelm the other flavours but sweet enough to offset the punch of alcohol, the mousse sits beside a scoop of brown bread ice cream. Yes, you read correctly – brown bread ice cream, actually cyclicly made from the very bread that we began our meal with. Unusual but a perfect combination, and hugely fun to eat.

Finally, I couldn’t bypass the final menu item – the little $6 bowl for when you are so full you can’t eat more, but can’t go past the temptation of dessert, particularly when it involves feijoas. Growing up in New Zealand with feijoa hedges everywhere, it is a shock to the system to realise that most Australians have never even heard of the fruit. Our waitress mentioned this to the NZ chefs making our dessert, who agreed that it also reminded them of home. The preserved feijoa pieces are cooked with hazelnut and topped with a creamy slice of tangy frozen yoghurt semifreddo: the smallest dessert on the menu, but, dare I say it, my favourite.

Overall, our meal cost us $125 – reasonable for two people for food of that calibre, and the unassuming yet glamorous atmosphere that makes The Town Mouse unique. The menu changes seasonally, so I am sure I will be back – the duck breast dish we saw on the table next to us is already calling my name!

Rating: 9/10
Don’t miss: the goat’s cheese profiteroles or lime posset dessert
Price range: $50-80 per person plus alcohol
Pro tip: book ahead online to avoid missing out

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