An intimate culinary experience to rival them all
You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d woken up in a game reserve far from the bustling city; Idwala Boutique Hotel is the perfect retreat for weary travellers and corporates looking for rest and relaxation. While our stay in the cottages deserves its glowing review, it really was the intimate dinner at their restaurant that made our trip.
While we watch the sun tease out her exit from the growing fire in the lapa, we are brought menus. A fishy offering, which is puzzling when you consider the landlocked locale, has my interest piqued. My dinner date and I place our respective orders, giving the kitchen a chance to prepare our meal.
Within the hour, the relentless sun has set and any concerns about the unseasonal weather are cooled by the drastic temperature drop. We duck inside to escape the cold and are met by another consuming fire. Ella Fitzgerald croons calmly, adding to the easy atmosphere of the thatched eatery. It is just my guest and I. We have the entire restaurant to ourselves.
As we take our seats, we are served a board of freshly baked bread accompanied by olive butter. I can’t quite distinguish the strong flavour notes in the spread but I know what the rest of my meal will comprise of, so I order a glass of Ernie Els’ Chenin Blanc. Thembela opts for a Merlot by Leopard's Leap.
It isn’t too long before the first course arrives.
Thinly sliced mounds of mouthwatering Springbok Carpaccio lay atop pickled carrots and string beans that still have their crunch. Disks of paper thin Parmesan cut through the acidity of the vegetables while adding a salty richness to the dish.
What a way to start our dinner! It’s clear that the kitchen has been scrupulous in creating a plate of food with an all-star ingredient list. Each component is faultless.
My dinner date and I have barely cleared our plates when the next course is brought out. I want to test the freshness of their consciously caught fish and across the table, my fellow diner is sticking to a winter classic - pork belly.
It’s clear that, in preparation of our meal, the kitchen was a bit previous. Thembela’s pork crackling is chewier than the crunch we’d both expected, and as I cut into my kingklip, it feels like it has sat under the heating lamp too long. We tuck in anyway. Marmalade on fish with noodles is a combination I’ve never come across myself, and I’m excited to try it.
Now, I like my pasta and veggies the same way I like my steak - more undercooked, or what could be described as al dente.This isn’t the case for everyone, which is why I’m unconcerned that the noodles and stir fry are cooked completely. I can still distinguish between the texture of the pasta and julienne bell peppers.
The fish is a complete mind bend. Because the marmalade is much sweeter than anything else on the plate, it takes centre stage in my mouth. For a second, I consider asking for a lemon wedge, but I don’t know how the sharp zestiness of the fruit might react with the tangy marmalade.
The pork belly being eaten across from me looks like it’s going down a treat. Thankfully, I’m offered some. My knife cuts through the rendered fat like soft butter. I have a mouthful with some creamy mash, then I sneak another bite with the smashed peas on the plate. Meat and two veg is a classic; it’s clear these cooks didn’t want to mess with a winning formula.
We’re well into more wine when my dinner date and I agree to give our bellies a bit of a breather. We don’t want the generous portions to rob us of dessert. We stretch out our glasses of wine.
Whether we blame it on the warmth freely given from the fire, Ms Fitzgerald’s unobtrusive serenading, or the fact that postprandial stupor has hit us like a freight train, Thembela and I are starting to feel a little drowsy.
Our dessert arrives just as I accept that I cannot take anymore food. But my dinner date manages to perk up, so I do the same. Basil and Strawberry is what he is having, I’m indulging my nostalgia with a local favourite my family would cap every Sunday lunch off with as a child.
My malva pudding arrives in a jam jar, and I am happy to breach a thick layer of caramel honeycomb, and creamed mascarpone to get to the pudding underneath. The dessert is sweet without being too sickly. I get to the bottom before I’d like to, but decide this is only a good thing.
My companion has a trio of desserts: a basil and strawberry sorbet, a salad with the same two ingredients, as well as a puree with pastry shards and white chocolate cream. Because Basil is my favourite herb, I take to this dessert. The sorbet is perfectly balanced, the fruit salad is just tart enough, and the cream feels like I’m eating a cloud.
I am too full and too tired to polish off my wine, so with high spirits and happy bellies, Thembela and I call it a night, though I am already excited for the spread I know I’ll enjoy come breakfast time.
---
This is only the beginning. Jeanette and the rest of the Idwala Boutique Hotel staff made sure to treat us like ultimate VIP our entire stay in Joburg. Read all about it in my hotel review.
Comments