Olympic Cafe, Newmarket

Lemon rubbed chicken breast, served on cardamon roasted root vegetable. Picture / Carolyn Robertson

Herald rating: * * * *

At some establishments around town they get that snooty look on when you get a snooty look on as they tell you about the specials.

I didn't mean to screw up my nose at the Olympic Cafe when we were told the Coromandel scallops came with orzo. I don't have anything against orzo except that I'd rather eat almost anything else (except perhaps tofu) than orzo with scallops. That seems to me a train-smash of textures.

Anyway, they didn't mind this at the Olympic. Perhaps I'd like the scallops with salad instead? What I should have said was "forget the greenery and just give me the scallops". Because these were beautiful scallops: just seared, as plump as we would be when we finally staggered away from the table.

As tables go, the Olympic's are unprepossessing. As is the rest of the place. There are wooden floorboards, white walls, some malnourished house plants. In the loo is one of those roller towel things you used to find in public toilets. But the bathrooms were the cleanest I've seen in a long time. And I'd rather have clean than flash.

The front of house bloke, and he is a blokeish sort of front of house type, Robert Agnew, said about the tuatua fritter: "We've been doing it for 12 years. We think we've just about got it right." I do like a good tuatua fritter but, no, the other bloke, the one at my table, snaffled that. I had the scallops. That was a very good fritter, served with no fripperies: just a blob of lime mayo. It was also very large: it would have fed at least two blokes.

I didn't eat much of my greens - too busy filching bits of fritter. I got told off for this. If I didn't want greens, said the cheekiest waitress in town, "why didn't you just say?"

Oh. Sorry. At most places they get very snooty indeed if you start asking them to muck around with the menu. At the Olympic they don't seem to mind at all.

I had venison. The two medallions came with dauphine potatoes and cassis sauce. There was far too much sauce: a veritable swamp of the stuff. The spuds were doughy and far too salty but it was the best venison I've had anywhere.

I thought the excellent service had faltered when a steak knife failed to materialise. It hadn't: you didn't need such an implement to cut this meat. That's a sign of very good kitchen. And the sign of a very jolly cafe is when you can't eat all that meat and ask for a catty bag, you have a cat conversation, and they bring the remains in a little basket constructed from foil.

The fritter thief had a huge bowl of lemon grass broth with prawns, calamari and noodles. At first we both thought the broth to be too sweet, but its surprise was a snappy spicy aftertaste. This was simple stuff, perfectly done, mostly.

There's a bread and butter pudding on the "permanent fixtures" part of the menu. The couple next to us were having it. The maitre'd told them not to worry about how fat it was going to make them. "We use trim milk in the sauce." "What a liar," I said, a little more loudly than I had perhaps intended. "We do," he said, "and cream and sugar and Cointreau."

We'd share a serving then. Now really, it's difficult to tick off a place for serving you too much excellent pudding so I said to the cheeky one, who is co-owner, Khim Agnew: "We haven't got enough sauce." You could have sauced 10 puddings with that amount. She said: "I'll bring a straw." She also said: "You can blame me when you can't do your pants up tomorrow."

We couldn't, and we did. And we fully intend to go back soon and blame her some more.

Address: Cnr Carlton Gore Rd & Davis Crescent Newmarket
Phone: 524 8997
Open: Dinner Mon- Sat
Owners: Khim and Robert Agnew
Head chef: Des Ward
Wine list: Small and reasonably priced

From the menu: Seared calamari on rocket with walnut oil dressing, $16; lemon rubbed chicken breast, baked and served on cardamon roasted root vegetables, $24.50; fresh lime and lemon mousse with almond tuilles, $9.50

Vegetarian: There's a platter thing on offer which I asked about in a moment of madness. Oh, have the scallops, the maitre'd said. Good advice.

Bottom line: Small, unpretentious cafe which is serious about having fun while eating very good food.