Celebrating a historic French holiday in a proudly South African way.
'La vie est belle', as the French say. Following an evening in Franschhoek during the most exciting time of their social calendar, it's not difficult to see why. With good food, great wine, and amazing company, enjoying the finer things in life seems mandatory. As my dinner date and I pull up to Monneaux Restaurant, found in the heart of Cape Wine Country, on a fortuitously clement winter evening, it seems the festivities of the coming weekend are warming up to greet us.
The setting, Franschhoek Country House and Villas, transports us to location outside what we are used to. In Cape Town, we've become accustomed to lofts boasting incomparable views of our sleeping giant. Along the Atlantic Seaboard, beach house skirt along the spirited ebbs and flows of the seaside. To be within a brag of balconied accommodations, all with an uninterrupted view of the two pools on the property - and the rolling hills behind then - brings and immediate, almost impulsive ease to us as we follow Clyde from the parking into the eatery.
"Can we start you off with some drinks," Robin, our server for the night, suggests. Following a vexing journey from Cape Town, a stiff anything will ease the tension of bumper-to-bumper traffic. Four tables have been reserved in anticipation for our arrival, and my companion and I decide on a table with a view of the courtyard.
While the pair of us catch up over a glass of champagne, Robin manages to slide a set of soup spoons onto our napkins. But before our first course, we are encouraged to break bread with lashings of homemade hummus accompanied by balsamic vinegar and olive oil.
Freshly baked, and lightly toasted, the seeded bread provides a perfect base for the garlicky hummus. But I don't want to ruin my appetite, so I let Robin known we're ready to enjoy the meal I curated that the Monneaux staff paired with french-inspired wines.
We begin with Cauliflower and Olive Parcels paired with a locally produced Chenin Blanc.
Basil is one of my favourite flavours, and the broth the parcel is floating in is my introduction to not just the dish but the entire meal. It is well seasoned and doesn't mince its worse - so to speak. I savour one mouthful, and then another, and another. Before I finish the broth, I break apart the parcel to palate the contents inside. While the cauliflower and olive provide one texture, and the delicately cooked pastry present another, I so wish a the sharp saltiness of feta cheese - with it's resistant texture - had been added. My date counters that the dish is balanced enough in its seasoning that any other flavour might throw off the profile. I concede.
The wine pairing is impeccable. Light and incredibly smooth on the way down, it's clear the sommeliers wanted to champion the dish with this pairing. The chenin has an undeniable sweetness that only works to further highlight the bold basil and bring out the flavours of the cauliflower.
We move onto the Duck Breast next.
I smell the dishes before they are set on our table and I smile with glee. Winter on a plate. Though meals that consist of inedible components baffle me, the candied cinnamon and cured lemon rind garnishes immediately take me back to boiling a batch of my mulled wine on particularly cold evenings.
Medium-to-well-done, the gamey bird has been cooked to perfection. Our knives cut through the duck with little defiance and there is enough onion chutney to lap each forkful up with.
The Monneaux staff take a risk serving the Merlot they've paired with the wine chilled because the smokey tannins of the wine are more difficult to pick up on. Thankfully, the duck and glazed muffin is executed with a great depth of flavour that I don't find anything lacking.
At this point, Ruddy and I are feeling the effects of the wine pairing. We take the opportunity to stretch out the glass of chilled red we're still undecided about. Being a bit of a French speaker himself, I attempt to exhaust his linguistic skills by asking to explain what we can expect next.
"I know what 'frites' is par je n'ai pas pu pratiquer mon français sur des amis donc je parle un petit peu.'
Before the romantic rhythms of the language claim me, we let Robin know we are ready for Moules-frites.
"This is gorgeous," I exclaim and I don't know if the delicately deep-fried mussles are actually to thank for my loud outburst, or the 4 glasses of wine I've managed.
The refined fish and chips combo goes down a treat.
We were the first to arrive at Monneaux Restaurant this aftrnoon, and after about four hours of free-flowing wine and fluid conversation, my companion and I are the very last table left in the ethereal eatery. So we tuck into our final offering for the evening. Crumbed Brie arrives on a bed of berry salad. What accompanies it is an incredibly sweet Muscadel with ripe fruit flavours that certainly linger.
This perfectly balanced dish and the duck rival for my favourite of the night. A combination of the crunchy crust of the cheese that brings forth a gooey ooze, paired with the bite of the walnuts hidden within the leaves of the salad, the zesty pop of each gooseberry bursting under every bite astounds me. Strawberries, figs and blueberries participate in the sweet finish that is an enjoyable meal.
We linger after our meal has finished, roistered by the culinary creativity of the Monneaux kitchen. It has been a thoroughly enjoyable evening that must, as most things do, come to an end. We bid the wonderful wait staff au revoir and launch ourselves back onto the freeway home
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Bastille weekend is always such a wonderful celebration and there are a number of ways you can be part of the fun. If you don't want to drive all the way out to Franschhoek, Swan Cafe in Buitenkant Street is the perfect Parisian-inspired creperie to make you feel part of the French holiday.
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