by tashmcgill | Jun 24, 2017 | Opinion, Travel
There are some people and some places that have a certain magic to them. If you are lucky enough to encounter the magic people in the magic places, then things get turned around, upside down and put back to centre inside you – in a way that means you cannot leave unchanged. Bruichladdich is like that for me, a distillery on the edge of Islay looking across Loch Indaal.
“As I step, I see feather after feather along my way. There is an old legend that says when you see those small white feathers appearing around you, it’s a sign that someone is watching over you, thinking of you. I have found those feathers in the back country of Kentucky, the suburbs of Tennessee, the steps of St Pauls in London and here, in Islay – in the hallway of the Port Charlotte Hotel, on the foreshore of the Singing Seas and on the steps of Bruichladdich Distillery. Perhaps my Scottish ancestors are smiling that I’ve returned to the land of my forefathers and to this island of most famous malts. It’s remarkable that one small island of eight remaining distilleries can have such an impact on the world whisky stage. Islay malt is a thing of legend.”
This excerpt from my story The Sun Came Out on Islay gives you a glimpse of the magic.
This gorgeous print is from Kate McLelland and you can view more of her work here.
Look to the centre of the map and you’ll see Bowmore, settled in the apex of Loch Indaal. Directly opposite to the left or thereabouts, sits Bruichladdich and the distillery village that has been built around her. One or two stores and two roads, one leading around the coast and the inland to farmland.
It pays to know the ‘ch’ in Bruichladdich is silent. If you’re clever, you’ll ask which ‘ch’.. it’s the one at the end, the first is said in that Scottish brogue that sounds like the earth rolling over itself.
If you’ve spent anytime on the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky or even in some of the larger Scottish distilleries, you might be under the impression that a distillery is all nameless and faceless until they roll the big guns out for annual festivities, but it’s not like that at all on Islay, let alone at Bruichladdich. There’s no such email address as store – at – bruichladdich dot com. It’s Mary you’ll meet most days and so it’s Mary you can email to arrange your distillery tour.
And it’s worth visiting, just like I did, in the slightly off-season before the hub-bub and madness of Fèis Ìle. In the gentle Spring sun, Mary took me on a more personal tour – albeit, I was the only one hanging around. Her immediate ancestors built and worked in the distillery, so it’s in her blood. It was a little of the magic of people and place I talked about. Here’s a glimpse of Bruichladdich as I saw her.
There are plenty of distilleries who talk about and deliver on experimental finishes and trying new things – certainly there are many who have bigger marketing budgets and personalities like Dr. Bill Lumsden. But there is something wonderfully understated in how Bruichladdich have been going about proving their brand as Progressive Hebridean Distillers; more than the vibrant teal and distinctly modern typography on their bottles alone.
The oldest history, old history and the new history
You can read more about the beginnings of Bruichladdich (practice it with me… brew-achk – lahdee) here. Bruichladdich started as a family business thanks to the Harvey brothers in 1881 and by the time Mark Reynier and his investors completed purchase of the distillery in 2000, the distillery found itself in the hands of an owner who prized the Victorian equipment and the family-owned and run mentality of distilling. Careful restoration meant almost all of the original equipment in still in use for production today, although the distillery is closed in June 2017 for annual repairs and maintenance. Even the grainhopper is nearly 150 years old!
Let’s skip ahead to when I first tasted Bruichladdich in 2006. The iconic squat bottle and bright teal caught my eye, almost as much as the discovery of Bruichladdich as Islay’s unpeated malt. This was in fact older malt that was being released from stock but by the time they released their first ‘new make’ spirit in 2011, there were already moves afoot to purchase Bruichladdich from Reynier by French giant Rémy Cointreau. Part of Bruichladdich’s success was the migration of Jim McEwan from Bowmore to Bruichladdich, where he took up the role of distillery manager and influenced the evolution of Bruichladdich’s ‘progressive approach’. The sale went ahead in the summer of 2012 but since then, Mary and others will tell you they’ve been able to maintain a family-run approach. When Jim retired in 2015, it was Adam Hannett who stepped into the role of Head Distiller, having learned from Jim. And outside of a few changes to production rates and the backing and resources of a global giant to hand, not too much has changed.
Geography and tasting
Bruichladdich takes water directly from the spring so it doesn’t run through the peat beds as it does at Ardbeg, Lagavulin or many of the other southern distilleries. This limited peat contact and the use of un-peated barley the resulting whisky is much milder and lighter than what people traditionally think of as an Islay malt. In general terms, the flavour profile is appropriately opposite to Speyside whiskies (opposite coasts!). Think dry finishes and spice notes that sit behind the smoke. These gentler Islay spirits are greener moss and grass influenced (rather than peat) with a touch of seaweed, tending towards a roundness of nuts and a dry finish. In the case of Bruichladdich, the unpeated malt is floral and complex. It’s a lighter spirit but it’s not simple. The flagship bottling (The Classic Laddie Ten) was first released in 2011, exactly ten years from when the restored stills first ran through to the spirit safe on September 9, 2001.
Progressive means what?
In their own words, Bruichladdich ‘respects the past but doesn’t live in its shadow’. When you visit the distillery, you’ll see cask explorations that are only available there as the head distiller picks and chooses casks from Rémy Cointreau’s stocks around the globe. That day at the distillery, Cask Exploration No.7 is classic Bruichladdich spirit finished in a Rivesaltes wine cask. Rivesaltes is a little-known wine appellation in French Catalonia – a sweet wine. In this expression, the balance of the classic malt profile is sweetened and rounded by the wine finish. Bruichladdich release Black Art (now in it’s 5.1 edition which is solely Adam’s profile and on his own admittance, he’s changed McEwan’s recipe quite drastically) semi-regularly, a more general release of these wine cask explorations.
But there’s more to it than wine finishes. Bruichladdich leapt into making malt using barley grown from the Octomore farm behind the site of Port Charlotte. From these threads of history, Bruichladdich created both the Port Charlotte, a peated version of their spirit, a 100% Scottish version and the Octomore, the most heavily peated of all the Islay whiskies.
| DISTILLERY |
MALT PHENOLS (ppm) |
NEW MAKE PHENOLS (ppm) |
MIDDLE CUT ABV |
| Ardbeg |
54 (42-70) |
24-26 |
73-62.5 |
| Bowmore |
20-25 |
8-10 |
74-61.5 |
| Bruichladdich |
3-4 |
|
76-64 |
| Port Charlotte |
40 |
20-25 |
|
| Octomore |
129 (in 2003) |
46 (in 2003) |
|
| Brora |
7-40 |
|
|
| Bunnahabhain |
1-2 (peated malt 38) |
|
72-64
|
| Caol Ila |
30-35 |
12-13 |
75-65 |
| Highland Park |
35-40 (and unpeated malt used together) |
2 |
70 and then 2h40min |
| Lagavulin |
35-40 |
16-18 |
72-59 |
| Laphroaig |
40-45 |
25 |
72-60.5 |
Phenol-levels of malts and new-makes in different distilleries and the ABV of the middle cut.
(modified from Misako Udo: The Scottish Whisky Distilleries)
It’s this ability to play at all ends of the spectrum that I most love about Bruichladdich and then there is the spirit of the place when you arrive. More likely to be greeted like family because, in many respects they are just that. A slightly-extended, whisky-making, award-winning family.
While you may not make it to the shores of Bruichladdich anytime soon, can I highly recommend you take a tastebud journey?
Start with the Laddie Ten and then try it alongside the Port Charlotte to really get a sense of this wonderful place.
by tashmcgill | Jun 3, 2017 | Opinion, Tasting Notes
Earlier this year, I was having lunch with Dr. Bill Lumsden, master distiller and my favourite whisky chemist. We were celebrating the release of the long-awaited Glenmorangie Bacalta, a baked madeira finished whisky and their 8th Private Edition release but I couldn’t help but think ahead to today, the annual release of one of Dr. Bill’s exquisite experiments. Bill is more than a distiller, his eye goes to selecting the oaks and woods for Ardbeg barrels, managing stocks and the creation of whiskies under his watch for the Glenmorangie Company.
With a little twinkle and ferocity, he told me about the Black Sea oaks sourced from Russia that were being used to impart a deeper, darker flavour than previously known. These oaks are typically ignored for whisky production as their wood flavours are too pronounced and strong. But paired with original Ardbeg, there’s a companionable agreement between this hefty Russian influence and the salty, fierce robustness of Ardbeg malt. Perhaps that’s why the mythic Scottish water kelpie won out for pride of place marketing instead of the dark Russian heart of this Ardbeg release. Ultimately, regardless of the Black Sea influence, the whisky is still Scotch, still Ardbeg, unarguably so.
So to the tasting of this year’s rare spirit – by now, I’m sure you’ve heard the legends. New Zealand is first in the world to open for public sale and it’s to be expected that by the end of the weekend, if not today, it will be sold out of stock for the general consumer. Thankfully, there’s an Ardbeg Embassy bar in Auckland that will have a plentiful supply.
To the tasting notes and without further ado:
Colour: The supplied tasting notes say burnished gold, with which I agree although I’d add a tinge of green-gold tarish on the edges. It may well be my imagination but it suits me!
Nose: There’s an intensity to this nose that comes leaping forth – pine trees, medicinal oils that are almost herbaceous and green, peat (of course), seaweed, dark chocolate and then as you add water to it in tasting, the nose becomes almost creamier and with a nutty tone. The tasting notes talk about toasted coconut but I was left with a blanched almond and toffee sweetness sitting against spicy black peppers.
Palate: There’s a big peppery kickoff before the complexity of this whisky kicks into gear. The Russian oak is resounding and complex. It’s in the mid-palate, not in the nose that I get big hits of coffee, dark roasted grounds, toffee and treacle and dark chocolate is present from the nose to the palate. Those medicinal oils come back towards the end – clove and star anise captured in oil with sweet woods like cherry and Maplewood on the tongue, followed by smoky-sweet hickory. It’s woody and metallic at once with a long big finish.
Finish: At first, it’s salty and briny like young olives just as the tasting notes say. But it’s in the finish that I get chargrilled thick-cut Canadian bacon, chewy toffee and residual spice.
Summary: The previous two Ardbeg Day release have been enjoyable but not magical for me. Maybe it’s the Kelpie talking but the magic is quite intense with this release. It has some of the characteristics of Ardbog and Alligator, where the earth elements of wood and fire were so intense. I’m looking forward to seeing how this evolves over an evening. So far, this is my favourite Russian collusion of the year.
Ardbeg Day 2017 is taking place at the four New Zealand Ardbeg Embassies in Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch.
- House of Whiskey, 38 Courthouse Lane, Auckland Central – 11am-5pm
- Regional Wines, Beers & Spirits, 15 Ellice Street, Mt Victoria, Wellington – 11am– 4pm
- Whisky Galore, 834 Colombo Street, Christchurch Central – 9:30am-5pm
- The Jefferson, 7 Fort Lane, Auckland – 7:30pm-10pm
About Ardbeg
Ardbeg prides itself on being The Ultimate Islay Malt Whisky. Established in 1815, Ardbeg is revered by connoisseurs around the world as the peatiest, smokiest and most complex of all the Islay malts. Despite its smokiness, Ardbeg is renowned for its delicious sweetness, a phenomenon that has affectionately become known as ‘the peaty paradox’. During the 1980s and 1990s, Ardbeg suffered from an uncertain future and it was not until the brand was purchased by The Glenmorangie Company in 1997 that the Distillery was saved from extinction. Since then, the Distillery has risen like a phoenix and today Ardbeg is well established as a niche, cult malt, with a passionate following.
About the Glenmorangie Company
The Company is one of the most renowned and innovative distillers and marketers of Scotch whisky brands worldwide and is part of Moët Hennessy, the wine and spirits division of Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton. Headquartered in Edinburgh, Scotland, the Company produces Glenmorangie Single Highland Malt whisky and Ardbeg Single Islay Malt.
by tashmcgill | Sep 19, 2016 | Opinion, See, Theatre
The remarkable NZ Opera is a treasure of the New Zealand art and cultural landscape. There is a magic and mystique in wrapping up on dark night and entering the starlit wonderland of Auckland’s The Civic. Within these graceful walls, I’ve seen dance, theatre, film festivals, musicals and musicians. I’ve even seen a comedian or two. Listen to me truly, when I tell you that the NZ Opera run of Sweeney Todd is one of the greatest visual and musical feasts to reside at The Civic since I’ve been going to theatre. This is a must-see show with an incredibly limited season in Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch.
Sweeney Todd – The Demon Barber of Fleet Street – Buy tickets here
Sweeney Todd and Mrs Lovett. Photo: David Rowland / One-Image.com
Did I always love opera the way I do now? No. The difference is the magnificent Teddy Tahu Rhodes. One of New Zealand’s finest operatic sons, this gentle giant is one of the principals of Opera Australia but has returned home to join the cast of Sweeney Todd as the tortured barber himself. His presence onstage is captivating; the haunted Todd played with a dark and cynical edge but not without humanity. This is ultimately a story about how darkly men and women on the brink of survival will turn.
I don’t want to ruin the intricate and tragic storyline – I have stealthily avoided the film of the same name, but fake blood in opera is somehow more tolerable! So I will say this – Sweeney Todd might be best experienced completely fresh. That way, the intoxicating Rhodes will capture you from the first moment – more than his presence onstage, the chilling bass-baritone tones take you on a journey through Todd’s tragic back story. This is not a story without humour either. Antoinette Halloran brings Todd’s partner-in-crime and master seductress, Mrs. Lovett to the stage with vibrancy and deft timing.
Sweeney Todd Cast Photo: David Rowland / One-Image.com
This season is limited, the show will close in Auckland on September 24, before moving to Wellington (30 Sept – 5th Oct) and Christchurch (12th Oct – 15th Oct). And this is perhaps the most important thing – do not miss the opportunity to engage with world-class opera. The crowd was mixed – young twenty-somethings, date nights and older families out together but it always does something to my heart when I see generations together enjoying cultural traditions and expressions in new ways. A modern opera, sung in English by some of our musical treasures. The work of NZ Opera and their long-term supporters cannot be praised enough when productions of this quality are accessible to so many New Zealanders.
The details:
Sweeney Todd – The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
17 Sept – 15 Oct
Buy tickets here
A New Zealand Opera co-production with Victorian Opera, Sweeney Todd is directed by NZ Opera’s General Director, Stuart Maunder, and conducted by Benjamin Northey, Chief Conductor of the Christchurch Symphony Orchestra. Accompanied by the Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra, Orchestra Wellington and Christchurch Symphony Orchestra. Featuring the Freemasons New Zealand Opera Ensemble
From the book by Hugh Wheeler
Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
From an Adaptation by Christopher Bond
Originally Directed by Harold Prince
Originally produced on Broadway by Richard Barr, Charles Woodward, Robert Fryer, Mary Lea Johnson, Martin Richards.
In Association with Dean and Judy Manos.
By arrangement with Hal Leonard Australia Pty Ltd Exclusive agent for Music Theatre International (NY)
by tashmcgill | Aug 15, 2016 | Opinion
People often ask me, ‘how did you become a whisky girl?’ Mostly, I imagine they expect it was my father or an ex-boyfriend, perhaps a favourite university professor who shared a dram with me and set me on the path. But they’re wrong to imagine that. Sure, I’ve shared plenty of whisky with my dad and step-dad, the odd professor and mentor but they weren’t the ones that led me on the path.
At a push, I’d say it was Chase, dear friend and bartender who gave me permission to explore and accompanied me on a journey through the top shelf at my old local, but even then, it’s not entirely true.
It was Curiosity that did it. The kind that Albert Einstein talked about when he said to never lose a holy curiosity. I have had that quote written on my wall and almost every journal I’ve ever owned.
The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvellous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity. – Albert Einstein
The truth is while I was on the way to becoming a whisky girl, I was learning a lot about life and so here it is, the lessons so far. Apply them liberally to whisky, love and friends. You won’t regret it.
For more lessons and a personal introduction, join me at The Jefferson on Wednesday 31 August for the first Women & Whisky tasting. Tickets at $80 and include a cocktail and 5 whiskies influenced and shaped by women. It’s an ideal way to explore a range of whiskies, hear some great stories and learn more about your own palate and preferences. Email rsvp@thejefferson.co.nz to book or message me for details.
How To Become A Whisky Girl
Rule #1: Stay curious. Enjoy discovery more than knowledge. There are some people for whom the pleasure is in knowing. But once you know something or how you think the story ends, you stop paying such close attention. Stay curious and let your pleasure be in discovery.
Rule #2: If you will let discovery be your pleasure, listen more than you talk. Listen to the stories you hear from the people around you. Listen to the makers and the bartenders, to the lovers of single malt and the fans of Japanese whisky. Listen to the stories of brand ambassadors and people who once drank with someone who worked with a guy who visited a distillery one time. Listen – because the language of whisky is story.
Rule #3: Ask more questions. Ask more questions of the people behind the bar and beside you. Ask questions about what happened before they got to the bar and afterwards. It’s always better to enjoy a good drink with good conversation and questions are the way to get there. Practice asking questions more than you practice ordering.
Rule #4: Learn how to taste by paying attention to the details. Learning to taste is less about learning to spit or swish or swallow than it is about paying attention to the detail. Give your attention to something for long enough and the detail will emerge. What once tasted like hot, peppery alcohol will become curried apricots or butterscotch and oats if you just pay attention to the details for a moment or two. Learning to taste properly will help you to appreciate that which you may not love but can at least see the artistry in. This one is also particularly good to apply to people.
Rule #5: It’s never too soon to share what you know. There’s no real joy in holding onto knowledge without sharing it with someone else. Everything I learn is usually helpful or entertaining for someone else and it’s how we keep our stories alive, retelling them over and over.
Rule #6: A good story in good company can make the dullest edge shine. And that my friends, is self-explanatory.
It turns out that a whisky girl is happy to sit at the bar alone or make conversation with whoever turns up alongside her. She’s picky about her drinking buddies when she has something to say, but she can turn her attention to someone who needs a friend in a matter of seconds – because she listens and pays attention to the details. She asks a good question, so she’ll get to know your soul as well as she knows the whisky in her glass. She’ll not judge you for drinking Johnnie or Jack and she may only have one favourite drink. But a drink with her will open your eyes to something new and leave you coming back for more. Because a whisky girl knows that whisky lessons are good for life too, and she lives it well. Lives it large. Lives it small.
There are lots of romantic ideas about whisky girls around these days and I hold more than three of them to be true in my own life. This whisky girl is romantic, passionate, always learning, relentlessly curious. More than anything else though, this whisky girl became so by learning how to walk in the confidence of knowing who she was, who she is and who she’ll be and becoming braver and braver to ask for what she wants, what she likes and what she needs. That’s who the Whisky Girl is… vulnerable and brave enough to tell you, she’s not done yet figuring it out or learning what she wants – but you’re invited along for the ride. And that is everything you need to know.
See you at the J for a wonderful night.
by tashmcgill | Jun 27, 2016 | Drink, Opinion
Around my fireplace (indoors in winter, outdoors in summer), whisky nerd-dom and booze geekery gives way to philosophy more often than not. We may talk for a few moments of taste, colour, texture, body and the characteristics of the wood, but quickly the whisky leads us to stories, memories and things that ought to be shared with others. It may be that in my blood runs the blood of the great philosophizing nations or simply that spirit loosens the tongues of fools, but I am certain that whisky has accompanied some of the grandest philosophical conversations of world history and even more certain, it has been present at most of mine.
I have philosophies on lots of things, which sometimes leads me down interesting and unusual paths. But those are the not the stories you want to hear today, you can hold on a touch for those. No, the philosophy and therefore story of the day is simply a question: when you should drink whisky and when should you store it away? Which is in turn, closely followed by the question when should you invest in a bottle or just in a dram?
I have recently been invited to join several private tastings; one where the buy-in was an easy $50, another $25 and yet another, a bottle. The only caveat was the bottling needed to be from a closed distillery; Port Ellen in fact, one of my few and out of reach unicorn bottlings. A recent auction saw a Port Ellen 31 year old 1978 sell for over $NZD3000. Not to mention the 33 year old Port Ellen currently for sale at Auckland Airport for a mere $9264.00 (duty-free).That’s a steep entry fee, but at least you’d be opening the bottle with drinkers who would appreciate it. As David McGee says, ‘What we spend, we lose. What we keep will be left for others. What we give away will be ours forever.’ He has a point, I think – because what’s the point of owning a Picasso, Van Gogh or something even more esoteric and then keeping it locked away? The point is to learn it, know it intimately and preferably to share it with others. Democritus said no power nor treasure can outweigh the extension of our knowledge. And nor can our knowledge be robbed from us. So most of the time, I firmly believe there is little point collecting whisky if you don’t intend to drink and especially if you do not intend to drink it in good company. That is the first question answered.
Why is one bottle more sought after than another? It’s market dynamics with a little bit of human nature thrown in, I think. Rarity and scarcity will always increase demand so long as someone wants what is difficult to come by and even more so, when having it says something about your power, your wealth and your means.
After all, men desire beauty and go to great lengths to own it. Women desire beauty and go to great lengths to become it. At the heart of it all is a desire to have, to hold, to own, to capture. What does treasure look like?
I’ve only recently become aware of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, an independent bottling company with a difference offering membership packages that come with drinking, buying and experiential opportunities that are hard to come by. The SMWS only offers limited edition single cask bottlings, from distilleries all over Scotland and beyond with a particular bent for the unusual. These whiskies have their own lexicon; a code of numbers that refers to the original distillery but insists the whisky speaks for itself. Many of their bottlings stand out as unusual amongst the traditional flavour profile of their region. Hence, the whiskies themselves are like decoding a great treasure hunt. It’s some of the most fun you have with whisky, letting it take you entirely by surprise without the compass of expectation to guide you. The rewards are great, particularly when comparing notes with others.
I tasted the 50.68, the Orange Exposition and imagined myself in a candy store to rival Willy Wonka’s factory so present were the gummy drop, boiled sweet and marshmellowy layers of the dram. I’ve tasted baked apples before, but not like this. Or the extraordinary 3.246, the most curious combination of lemony manuka, smoked bacon and herbal tea aptly named the Curious Apothecary. These are bottles that range from $200 – $450 on the current SMWS New Zealand site.
So these treasures – should I buy the bottle or the dram? I am not rich, at least not as far as whisky connoisseurs and collectors go. I budget, save, measure and plan my indulgences and my palate runs broad enough to enjoy accessible and approachable whiskies that do not cost the world. So how do I gain access to the intimacy and knowledge of those things I desire, in a game I can’t always afford to play? I taste and treasure hunt. I buy the dram and sometimes (preferably) six of them at a time in a tasting, surrounded by good company of fellow adventure-seekers. Which is why you’ll so often find me at regular tasting nights at The Jefferson and in particular, at the SMWS tasting this Wednesday 29th June.
What better way to go treasure hunting and share a little philosopher than in a room full of fellow aspiring hunters? And for $80 a ticket, six tasting glasses is one heck of a ride through vaults. I buy the dram and not the bottle, when I want to indulge. Then if I am overwhelmingly in love, I buy the bottle and open it, giving it a home on my whisky shelf to be enjoyed by those who gather around the fire. The point is to taste it, to learn it and to do so in good company. You can’t take your treasure with you, you can only take what you’ve experienced and known. At least, that’s this whisky-girl’s philosophy on tasting, treasure and some other truths too.
PS: For a membership fee to the SMWS, you get your own tasting samples, membership card, exclusive access to tastings, dinners, events and partner bars and clubs around the world. Plus, they have been judged Best Independent Bottler for a few years in a row.
See you at the tasting table soon or email to book your Wednesday night tickets.
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by tashmcgill | Jun 27, 2016 | Eat, Opinion
There is a silky, moreish perfection of squid ink risotto sliding over my tongue and giving way between my teeth. I always have to start with the rice when eating risotto. The glistening, crispy morsels of squid sitting in that dark bed are patiently waiting their turn to shine, which they do – salty, sweet and tender.
Five courses later, the risotto is still forefront of mind and Fraser Shenton, head chef at FISH explains casually that his supplier let him know the arrow squid had come in on the catch. “So I ordered three kilos of it,” he says. Suppliers are in fact, the crucial third of the holy trifecta when it comes to the hospitality business, so this passing comment is testament to how important suppliers are to the menu here.
There’s no need to labour over details of each dish for the sake of critique. Between Shenton and Gareth Stewart, executive chef for Nourish Group, over a couple of visits, I’m unable to fault quality of the cooking or presentation coming out of the kitchen. Besides, no restaurant should ever be judged on the quality of a single dish but rather the consistency of the experience and the integrity to what they are trying to do. Which is why I’m here, eating lunch overlooking Auckland’s harbour on a day where the grey-blue Waitemata is moody. Between kitchen tasks and meetings, Fraser comes out to join us and we talk about what he is trying to do at FISH.
Here in New Zealand, we seem to have a funny attitude to hotel restaurants – viewing them as overpriced or novelty-based experiences. It’s true, dinner at Sky City’s Orbit will send you spinning around the city and The Langham’s Eight is in the crudest sense, an oversized buffet. FISH could not be more opposite than this. The dining room windows frame the changing sea and sky vistas with warm and natural tones that feel welcoming and comfortable. The relationship between the décor and the environment makes sense, as does the relationship between the ingredients on each plate. Everything is dressed with a tone of subtlety and a very organic, understated New Zealand.
Now it’s worth talking about the details of each dish we are greeted with. Naturally, squid belongs with squid ink, with traditional Italian staples such as pasta or risotto being the sensible vessel for that dark, salty flavour of the sea.
“I want people to understand the food easily, the relationships between what’s on the plate should make sense,” Fraser says. We muse on what this means briefly and he addresses the monkfish dish with crispy potato and a vibrant green saagwala sauce, a slighty off-menu variation. “New Zealand is multi-cultural but creating a menu that reflects that shouldn’t mean having a Japanese dish, an Indian dish and a Thai dish on the menu. Elements of each of those cuisines should make sense in the context of the dish being primarily about great New Zealand produce.”
The monkfish by the way, is delicious. The suppliers are credited again with that. “That was probably swimming in the deep yesterday, at most the day before.” Monkfish is hard to maintain on a menu, supply can sometimes be inconsistent depending on catch and demand. “We’re lucky to be part of a group in that respect, we can be assured of consistent supply. There’s only once we haven’t had it delivered and even then, we were able to serve another deep-sea fish in it’s place.”
And what of the Argentinian red shrimp, dressed with garlic and lardo di colonnata? It’s an example of another core principle behind Shenton’s menu development. “Well it’s just so good, it’s such a good product and there’s nothing like it here in New Zealand, so it’s worth bringing it in,” he says with a relaxed grin. He goes on to explain it’s about the best product available in the peak of season. This has an immediate effect on menu development. Seasonal changes are fairly standard, meaning restaurants often base dishes around the longest stretch of a season.
“I’m really interested in when the product is at it’s very best,” Fraser says. Consequently, the kitchen is almost constantly in development with new dishes coming on to the menu quickly and always at peak of season. He’s currently working with hay in the kitchen three different ways as part of dish development for a new cut of beef he’s introducing. Fraser admits it may not make it to the final menu, but that is the unseen hard graft of creativity – you work through a range of ideas, develop some and discard others. The result that customers enjoy in the dining room is usually the product of a sometimes ecstatic, sometimes less ecstatic creative process in the kitchen.
Speaking of ecstatic, the pork cheek with fermented cabbage and crackling arrives. Still a relatively unusual cut to see on a menu, the acidic and punchy kimchi variation cuts through the fatty and tender pork harmoniously. It’s good to have the chef on hand to explain the best technique to enjoy it is to slice through the cheek and stir it through the vegetable. Only a fork is required. This dish screams of Asian influence but again, it’s restrained enough that it feels at place overlooking the harbour in downtown Auckland. The five-day process to create the perfect crackling is explained as well, which I won’t share but will experiment with in my own kitchen at some point soon. There have to be some benefits to having lunch with the chef.
Fraser admits there are pressures created by this very responsive approach to seasonal food, offset by a well-balanced and established relationship between himself and Stewart. The process of ‘re-launching’ FISH over the last few months has obviously built a strong rapport between the executive and head chef, not to mention the relationship with the Hilton. At a party to celebrate the re-opening just the week before, Roger Brantsma smiled widely, visibly and outspoken about the pride the Hilton Group have in the offering. Reciprocally, Fraser says Brantsma and the Hilton team couldn’t have been more supportive, which combined with Nourish Group’s experience and resource is a really positive environment for what they are trying to achieve.
“What is that, exactly?” I ask. Dessert is a difficult choice between chocolate tart and the exquisite cheese selection. Chef decides on the chocolate tart which is indulgent. Thankfully I’m good at indulgence.
“Well, it’s about being honest,” he says, at which I almost want to challenge him on a relatively cliché description. However, the evidence is on the plate.
“Yes, but you haven’t branded the restaurant as being about local and sustainable produce, organics or any of those ideas we traditionally associate with ‘honest’ food.”
“No, but we are doing our best to be. We’ve chosen a partnership with Yealand wines because they run a carbon-zero winery and because they have the best New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc in the world.” Fraser goes on to explain that it’s both and Yealands have just moved (their office) into the same building on Princes Wharf, so the ideal of being local has more meaning than simply running a 100 kilometre menu.
It’s that same understated Kiwi attitude that demands a certain sort of integrity from the marketing talk chefs are sometimes expected to do. While it would be easy to create a thread of a story that starts with a young Shenton growing up in Whangarei, working the wood-fired pizza ovens at Leigh Sawmill influencing his menu at FISH, the truer story is less historical, more present day.
“We were on a road trip around the country recently and it really did bring me back to how much we have here on offer in New Zealand and what our food stories really are. Hence the hay I’m working with right now. It’s what we saw as we drove through the country and it’s what the cattle are eating right now, at this time of year. So it makes sense to bring that relationship through to the plate.”
There’s that honesty and approachability. The food is faultless, because at no point does the technique overwhelm or detract from how the ingredients work together on the plate. Everything makes sense and is delicious. In addition, it’s also approachable. Let’s put one more of those hotel restaurant myths to bed. The wine list is exceptional, as is the menu and it’s all affordable, despite million dollar views across the harbour.
I’ve been regretful that with the close of The Food Store in Viaduct Harbour (it’s now Oyster & Chop, which is fairly self-explanatory), there has been an absence of a distinctly New Zealand restaurant in Auckland. Certainly, there are plenty that use great produce but there is a clear character present at FISH that subtly but strongly resonates the best of what New Zealand cuisine can be and that alone makes it worth the walk down the wharf.
FISH
Hilton Auckland
Princess Wharf
Open 12pm until late, 7 days
Phone (09) 978 2020
email@fishrestaurant.co.nz
www.fishrestaurant.co.nz
