Herald rating: * * * * 1/2
Address: 91 St Georges Bay Rd Parnell
Ph: (09) 303 9660
Web: www.cibo.co.nz
Open: Dinner Mon-Sat, lunch Mon-Fri
Cuisine: Food with attitude
KEY POINTS:
If she knew the world was ending tomorrow, Jude would choose to eat at Cibo tonight.
She would not be alone: one suspects that's how many of the restaurant's regulars have felt for the past few weeks and the front pages suggest they will for some time. Might
as well nibble while homes burn.
Who is eating out these days (or nights)? Yr. Faithful Correspondent asked several high-profile (OK, high-priced) restaurants and got the same answer: "Business is good. On a par with last year if not slightly ahead."
On the side of the optimists, Luke Dallow has seized the moment to open his Sale Street uber-pub, Kermadec's getting a new set of sails and Prohibition's raised the bar.
If you, too, reckon there's a buck in it, one of the Viaduct's flashest restaurant-bar-cafés is on the market.
Different story further down the food chain. Neighbourhood bistros and pub dining are said to be feeling the chill, takings down 20 per cent and stories of owners walking away from their businesses. True? As with so much about this industry, it's near-impossible to separate fact from gossip.
We are eating early tonight, with the last of the after-work drinkers and before the crowd drifts in around 7.30, because I have a notion to test.
Cibo has a wee bit of a reputation as a social club for the Champagne Charleses and Cocktail Charlottes which tends to obscure its treasure and pleasure: Kate Fay's food. You could say the same about several similar places around Auckland, and I have.
Relishing fewer people, better concentration, I begin with the day's soup, celeriac, shot through with truffle oil and, for added taste and texture, starring a couple of artichoke hearts in tempura. It's not exquisite because that's too wimpish a word for such strong flavours. It's bloody good.
The wine match, Trinity Hill pinot gris seems a little colourless, but what wouldn't against that combination?
Jude continues her odyssey through pate: Fay offers a duck liver parfait (we will not digress into the parfait-pate-terrine argument here) that goes into the rankings somewhere between one at Tours and another in the Marais, which is fine company.
Even better company is the spicy, Alsace-styled Vinoptima gewurz.
Fay often begins with a Kiwi classic, say, roast chicken (in this case, poussin). Then it goes on its OE: backpacks around Southeast Asia and hooks up with udon noodles in a coconut broth, finishing the trip in the Med with a side of asparagus, parmesan, olive oil.
In the 90s it would have been called an f-word that is not used in polite kitchens nowadays; try "eclectic" or their "food with attitude".
That was my main, one I'd go back for, except that Fay is always changing her menu, and yes, it moved on the day after we went. The generous dish needed Coal Pit's lively, full-bodied Gibbston Valley pinot noir.
Playfully, in "bacon and eggs" bacon is slowly, gently braised pork belly, a duck supplies the bright-orange yolked egg, and the flavours are recapped in colcannon.
Again, European style in the wine match: the subtle auslese touch of Pyramid Valley Riesling.
Strawberry shortcake for me, sugar'n'spice doughnuts for Jude. With those exotically flavoured ice creams that no self-respecting menu can resist this year: balsamic for the berries, Vietnamese mint for the batter. If we'd had chocolate cake it would have been sweetcorn. Where's the hokey-pokey?
Cibo was filling and the Great American Songbook soundtrack was coming second to chatter and laughter.
I've proved my point. "You really enjoyed your meal," remarked Jude. "Five stars?"
"Four and a half," I replied. "Why?" she queried.
"It's a matter of taste," I said. "Automatic half-point penalty for playing Norah Jones."
