The dessert is so good at this restaurant, travel writer Sarah Pollok decides to indulge her sweet tooth for the first time in five years
To say one hasn’t eaten dessert in five years sounds like an exaggeration, something said to give a story drama. Yet, if anything, it’s a conservative guess because honestly? I can’t actually remember.
This won’t surprise those who know me. Whether it’s a birthday cake or an icecream stop during a beach trip, don’t bother offering a “slither” or to “go halves”, I’ll skip it altogether.
I do for a tangled collection of “whys” but let’s just say I’m not too bothered by sweet things. At least, that was before I walked into Simon Levy’s kitchen, also known as INATI.
The Christchurch restaurant’s te reo name means “to share a portion of food” or “to be exceptional and exciting”.
It’s a place guaranteed to receive impressed looks from locals when you mention plans to visit. A place that, in just six years, has earned a highly sought-after spot on the new official Monopoly Ōtautahi Christchurch board. However, as someone who didn’t consider themselves a foodie (see aforementioned dessert dry spell), I was more excited by my husband’s enthusiastic anticipation than the meal itself.
The experience starts normally enough for an up-market restaurant. At 7.00pm, we push open the heavy black doors, tucked off Heresford St in the city centre and are greeted with warm smiles and offers to take coats. Then we’re guided from one end of the rectangular restaurant to the other, to a small bar where diners can wait for their table.
To our left, groups of four are seated at a line of tables set along the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. To our right, a dozen or so diners sit on tall, cushy chairs beside a high, gold bar surrounding the long, open kitchen. It is, without a doubt, the heart of the room, in terms of sound (fat sizzling, knives whacking, pots clattering), movement and pure energy. At this point of the evening, INATI is well into its dinner service, which, from a spot up at the bar, looks much like a ballet; every waiter and chef moving swiftly yet in satisfying synchronicity.
As fancy as I feel in my dress and heels, I lose a degree of decorum trying to clamber up on to the bar seats but it’s worth it for the view, which is eye level with those in the kitchen. Once we are seated, Levy pops into view and welcomes us with such warmth I’m initially concerned we’ve met before and I don’t remember. Alas, he and his wife, Lisa, are just friendly folk who, over the course of a lot of good food, great wine and top-notch banter, feel like old mates.
My resistance to fancy, degustation-type dining has always been about price and taste. As someone who sees food as fuel, it never made sense to pay out of pocket for some fussy, complicated dish that didn’t look like it tasted that good.
At INATI, I’m glad to be proven wrong in the most delicious fashion, with a parade of dishes that are plated like artwork but taste so good I must decide between looking polite and scraping the dishes clean with my cutlery. I choose the latter.
When dessert (or “Nectar” as INATI’s menu calls it) arrives, I’m in the mood to throw assumptions out the window and give dessert a try.
Our final plate holds a tennis-ball-sized orb of glossy milk chocolate surrounded by golden crumbs of honeycomb. After a few firm whacks with a spoon, the chocolate cracks to reveal a spongey layer of white marshmallow covering a ball of malty-caramelly ganache.
The artistry of INATI’s ‘Milk Chocolate Maltese Mallow Puff alone is impressive. But the taste? I’m not a food writer, so won’t try to describe the flawless balance of textures and sweetness. I can say that several bites later, I literally clashed spoons with my husband, like a knight defending their treasure, when he tried to have another taste. He chuckled, assuming it was a joke. I tugged the plate out of reach. Sure, we were on honeymoon and I loved him, but love was forever and this mallowpuff was fleeting.
Whether I actually wiped the plate clean stays between me, my husband and our new mate Simon.
