It was the editor’s birthday. And although he’s generally loathe to go out these days — preferring instead to stay home and refer to himself in the third person in vaguely inane editorial columns — he was persuaded to celebrate with a night out.

How old, you ask? Let’s put it this way: if his life expectancy were 116, a midlife crisis might be looming. Best to leave it at that.

Mid-life Crises

Having already weathered a post-midlife crisis, the editor wasn’t particularly keen on buying drinks. He’s spending the remaining years, decades, if he’s lucky, preserving what’s left of his brain cells rather than sacrificing them to expensive Johnny Walker. So: a bottle of La Motte Millennium for the table (wife), a lime and soda, some sparkling water, and that was that.

His son, unfazed and focused, immediately spotted and ordered the Sparta Rib-Eye. His daughter chose the Linguine Alfredo, while the editor’s wife went with a Caprese Salad followed by the Penne Prima Vera. The editor opted for the Seared Sashimi Tuna starter and the Fillet Skewer and Chips starter — a double-starter strategy which would later prove triumphant.

As we waited, the restaurant began to fill. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming (outside, it was bitterly cold), and our waiter, Tshepo, was friendly and attentive throughout.

Tactical Error by the Inexperienced

The Alfredo arrived and, within seconds, it was clear a tactical ordering error had been made. It was a full adult-sized portion. Delicious, yes, but far too much for a not-so-hungry 13-year-old. Most of it came home with us, meaning the editor, who is decidedly non-Ayurvedic,  enjoyed creamy leftovers for days.

The Caprese and Penne Prima Vera were fresh, tasty, and happily paired with the La Motte. Happy wife, happy life, etc.

The Sparta Rib-Eye was devoured in silence. Not because it wasn’t good, quite the opposite. The boy didn’t come up for air, let alone offer a comment. It was clearly a success, punctuated only by a satisfied grin.

Three-Nil

But still,  the editor won the night. Three-nil in the food envy stakes. The seared tuna sashimi was exquisite, with just the right touch of soy and wasabi, delicate enough not to overpower the tuna. The fillet skewer was tender, flavourful, and generously portioned. The editor nearly gloated,  but wisely remembered the last time he gloated, and the ensuing domestic tension. He ate quietly instead, devoid of all appearance of gloat apart from a self-knowing smile, sipping his lime and soda, feeling vaguely distinguished in his voguish collared shirt, tracksuit pants, and Hush Puppies. Dressed more for a Zoom meeting than a night out, perhaps, but Mauro didn’t seem fazed.

And that’s important: comfort, great company, awesome food, and great service. We had all four, in spades.

Dinner for four, including drinks and a generous tip, came to R1,675 — with leftovers and wine to go.

Highly recommended.

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