Address: 354 Great North Rd, Henderson
Phone: (09) 836 3666
Website: adriatico.co.nz
Rating: ***
Henderson's main street on a Friday evening is drab and practically deserted, though the bright lights a block away suggest that life goes on in the mall.
As our footsteps echo on the pavement, I notice with some sadness that Moka, a pleasant pan-Mediterranean place where we ate last
time we were in this neck of the woods, has closed down: the windows are papered, the "For Lease" signs up.
If times are tough in the restaurant biz, they must be tougher still in the suburbs. But somebody forgot to tell the good people at Adriatico. The place is packed and the woman who greets us looks a bit worn out from the effort of saving the table we'd reserved. When I called earlier, she told me it was "better to book"; that was plainly an understatement.
The Adriatic, from which this place takes its name, is the expanse of the ocean between Italy and the countries that were once called Yugoslavia. Thus this "ristorante" can purport to be Italian (the menu is fegatini this and calamari that and tortellini the other) but the owners are actually from Macedonia, a former Yugoslav republic.
I mention this only because I cannot work out why they are so coy about it. The waitress - the boss' wife, I suspect - told me cheerfully enough when I asked but the website refers vaguely to a "European background".
The welcome page from owner/chef Dimitar Kardula doesn't say he's Italian, but it doesn't say he's not, either.
The explanation, I assume, lies in the brand value of the cuisine: Yugoslav food (where is our equivalent of the Balkan in Sydney's Oxford St?) hasn't really caught on here.
We all have our favourite Chinese or Indian place: but when was the last time you drove across town for a warming bowl of shkembe chorba (tripe soup). Even though the Dalmatians loom large in our history (they invented the local wine business), a Yugoslav eatery is as common here as a Danish or Dutch one. If you build it, they will not come, perhaps.
Still Adriatico's menu - the rogue spelling of parmigiana aside - gives a good impression of being Italian. It has entrees, pasta and pizza sections and the mains are, in the old-fashioned Kiwi style, with spuds and veg included. And it touches all the bases without stretching any of the boundaries.
I ordered a glass of wine from the specials board because it was from a local winery but it was well past its best, presumably having been open too long (do you still get corked wine with these screw tops?).
I remarked as much to the waitress who brought a different red with a smile, but added a message from the boss that there was nothing wrong with the first one, which seemed to me unnecessary and not just because it was incorrect.
But it was the only jarring note in an otherwise perfectly satisfactory evening. Calamari with capers were tender and tasty; chicken livers with brandy and cream perhaps a touch dry; a lasagne terrifically rich and gloopy; a piece of Scotch fillet, marinated in marsala and finished in the oven, was perfectly rare as ordered.
The desserts, particularly a tiramisu, were run-of-the-mill. But an 18-year-old restaurant that is full in the middle of a recession is doing something right. Signor Kardula will read my criticisms and cry all the way to the bank.
Ambience: Bright and bustling.
Vegetarians: Might try a pizza.
Watch out for: Crowds.
Bottom line: Italianesque
