Bone marrow fat is the new fish oil. This yellowy goo is even better for your health than the Omega 3 and 6 fats found in sporty swimmers such as sardines and tuna, leading American stem cell scientists accidentally discovered in new* research. Of course Parisian ladies from the fourth arrondissement have long known of its anti-ageing benefits.
| The Roundhouse +27 (0)21 438 4347 info@theroundhouserestaurant.com www.theroundhouserestaurant.com Kloof Road The Glen Camps Bay Cape Town |
But as we know French madames don’t easily give away their fresh-faced secrets – finding mysteriousness adds to their allure – so they discreetly rub the animal fat into their faces before dawn. The usual reasons given for Gallic grace, such as adultery and olive oil, have nothing to do with it. Indeed even before L’Oréal was founded tribeswomen were (and still are) rubbing lard into their cheeks to achieve that shine they hoped would lead to ‘that’ afterglow.
Being a hairy bastard with a leathery face that is beyond saving, none of these thoughts enter my mind when I order the roasted marrow bone at the Roundhouse. Three generous shin bones of cow arrive, accompanied by an oxtail, onion and port marmalade. Enough to satisfy a Great Dane. There’s also a bowl of sea salt and a lean salad of flat-leaf parsley, gently pickled shallots and capers. And toasted sourdough bread.
The bones are jam-packed with fat but I have about as much experience in extracting this highly prized commodity with the dainty fork provided as the new breed of robber-barons, (read Imperial Crown Trading), have in mining. Eventually any pretense at elegance is cast aside and I start using my fingers. Dollops of the salt provided are necessary to transform the marrow from being simply rich and tasteless to rich and tasteful. The unusually spartan salad, tangy from capers, cuts through the fat, creating a welcome false sense of security in the arteries. Nibbled alone the leaves wouldn’t stand up but combined they’re a great success.
The oxtail bit of the onion and port marmalade has a lovely meatiness but overall it’s just too sweet for my liking. I like my marmalade made from oranges and preferably bitter-sweet rather than simply sweet (and on white toast with tea after a breakfast of eggs and kippers). The marmalade-everything mania (primarily onions) that swept the country 10 years ago continues unabated. I blame Melissa’s for this. These marmalades should never be too sugary. They always are.
For mains I select a Red Roman with new potatoes, fennel puree, sultanas and capers on melted lemon butter. This once plentiful but still legally traded fish, uncelebrated by restaurant diners, is fresh and cooked until it just starts to flake. It has a crispy red skin and remarkably (to me) has a delicate flavour. So subtle that even the potato skins hide its taste, though surprisingly the sweetness of cooked sultanas doesn’t have the same effect. The fennel puree is mild, combining well, while the vaguely lemony butter liquid is unnecessary to juice up the fish as it is cooked for the perfect time. But compared to the generous first course the fish dish is too small. (Ironically the Red Roman has a reputation for gluttony.) I would happily pay more for a bigger portion but then this parsimony lures me into a pudding.
The highlight comes at the end with a vanilla ice cream. Nothing like the real pods of this spice to lift the taste buds and the mood. It is paired with three of the fluffiest puffs of profiterole (think baby chocolate éclairs). The dessert takes its time to arrive, suggesting this choux pastry has been made from scratch. I’ll gladly wait as long for these again.
The origin of the word profiterole is not exactly clear but what is known is that it has nothing to do with profit. And the Roundhouse is making hardly any of it at today’s out-of-season lunch. I am one of only five diners. The three course fixed price lunch menu is only R180 (R150 for two courses).
A spin past the Camps Bay strip below the Roundhouse shows most of the cafés and restaurants there to be busy, though not full. This on an admittedly balmy winter weekday but then a steak and four beers at any one of these joints would be no cheaper than the two course meal at the Roundhouse (admittedly without the beer). The younger crowd on the strip is either mad to be missing out or Roundhouse aren’t marketing properly, though no doubt they coin it in summer and on weekends.
Back half-way up Lions Head at the Roundhouse, butterflies float against the backdrop of the Twelve Apostles and the distant hotel of the same name. Round buildings can make for terrible spaces, think UCT’s suicidal Leo Marquard residence. But when they rooms are big, as the enclosed terrace is here, they afford sweeping views, interestingly through graffiti-carved glass (the work of hooligans of the early 1900’s). In 2010 it ladds character.
Naturally there is limited choice on this set price winter menu but there are some unusual options in this French-inspired fine dining restaurant, such as Jerusalem Artichoke risotto (if I recall correctly). You won’t find too many luxury items. Mains include a slow roasted pork belly, with a broad bean casserole and a Calvados (apple brandy) that looks interesting and even a burger as far as I remember.
At night a more extensive and luxurious prix fixe** menu advertised on the website includes mains such as squid ink pasta which I have only eaten at La Lampara in the Midlands (a lovely setting but the pasta was terrible); artichoke and porcini risotto with veal sweetbreads and bacon lardons (fat); and North Atlantic Scallops. Starters include asparagus with duck egg; eland carpaccio with braised ox tongue; and a foie gras dish.
Service polite, professional and out of your face as it should be. The temptation to be overly helpful when a restaurant is quiet thankfully not exercised.
The wine list is extensive, expensive and interesting with everything from the Boland to Burgundy and Bordeaux. A glass of Hazendal Bushvine Chenin Blanc 2007 is R35 though most by the glass way over that. Most of the French stuff over R1 000 a bottle and up to R11 000.
4/5 stars over lunch. Execution exemplary. A bigger main course and flavour combinations that are more to my taste would lift that to 5/5. Also what needs to be taken into account is that I select my starter and main because I believe they they will be the best test of the kitchen. By chance these are the same dishes later recommended by the maître d’. So this may not be the best way to assess the chef.
* don’t believe a word I say about these health benefits
** and don’t expect to see all these items on the menu as the set price menu changes with the seasons
Tom Robbins
Posted August 13, 2010
Tags: Camps Bay restaurants, Cape Town fine dining, French cuisine, French restaurant
Ooooh Tom, I wish I hadn’t read this on an empty stomach – I have only fruit in my lunch box today, which is now about as appealing as carpet shavings.
I had bone marrow for the first time at Hartford House a while back (http://maclarty.blogspot.com/2009/09/dazed-and-decadent-in-mooi-river.html), and I’ve been dreaming about it ever since. I’ve also been pondering where to take the Paddy for his upcoming birthday, and I think you’ve decided me. Divine review – bravo!
Robyn
What i find difficult is to find a blog that can capture me for a minute but i think you offer something different. Keep it like this.