Booze, Bars and Bags - 3 Naughty Little Indulgences.

Tjing Tjing Bar

Who needs salted peanuts to incite a kalahari style thirst in ones' patrons? Give them a moment to catch their breath after sprinting up a generous helping of stairs and they will make a bee-line for the bar in no time. This place is brimming with Cape Town, in their brogues and braces. Wooden beams, the Black Keys belting out across this rooftop courtyard. Three tousled blondes shuffle past me and I white knuckle clutch my tumbler of vodka tighter than ever. Eventually, I am slouched down in the corner against a backdrop of China-something-ish decor, surrendering myself to the night  and sinking into a chair that is like a pair of lips nearly swallowing me - however provides the ideal vantage point for a people-watching extravaganza. Like a pervy leering uncle I'm eyeing every single thing that enters my scope. I like it here, the conversations are interesting, obnoxious and loud, the women are gorgeous, the men are not popping collars. There is laughter, its sexy, warm and loads of fun.

Jorgensens Field of Dreams Absinthe

I am all for excess, I am one hundred percent okay with debauched frivolity and falling into the wanton abandon of bohemian hedonism. Field of dreams is currently top on my list of wonderful things to drink. I had not enjoyed previously commercially flavoured, spineless Absinthe. I was however very pleasantly surprised by this hearty, heavily herbaceous and woody tipple. The alchohol is not offensive and brash, but rather a polite and tummy-warming delight. Too elegant an offering to be savagely knocked back in shots, this is far more palatable diluted by three parts ice water, and a dash of sugar syrup. The required parephenalia of melting sugar over a flame and passing the Absinthe over a spoon is terribly gimmicky. Keep it simple, keep it happy, both easily attainable states after a few of these!

Missibaba

Chloe Townsend established this proudly South African label, where leather is the playground of the creative. The collection boasts an armada of investment peices, bags, clutches, belts, and jewellery. Handcrafted by an empowered group of talented women. When I do own one of these I will take it on romantic dates with my leather pumps, and we will waltz through Woolworths buying fantastic things like pomegranate Juice and chocolate mousse. I will wear it to meetings and take it away on mini-breaks to Hermanus.

Ideally, I would covet a pretty little hip-flask within a Missibaba clutch bag, lean agaisnt the staircase leading to Tjing Tjing, and have a sneaky little sip of Jorgensens before I reach my ascent.

A quick splash of fire on the tonsils - Vodka Tasting at Salt.

When I started drinking Vodka I was of the slap dash, hard and fast movement. The vile, instant gratification seeker, one of the late night party people crowd. What I knew about Vodka is, that it would usually be served straight, ice-cold, turfed down ones throat, barfed up later.

How beautifully an organised rather polite room temperature tasting can change perceptions, and what better place for enlightenment than the Salt Vodka Bar in Bantry Bay.

7 Vodkas, Locally and Internationally Produced... Blind tasted by 7 Judges (name drop-opp bypassed.) Fantaxtic cocktails, God-send Canape Platters and the fekking fantastic Clare.


Although Stolichnaya came out tops in the blind tasting, Primitiv won the fashion parade for sexy packaging. Here is my own (naughty) insight into the tasting... In a very particular order :

1 is sipped straight and slowly from a tumbler of crushed ice, 7 gets poured as a triple and mixed with Fanta Grape.

1. The hot blonde, mail-order bride of Vodka. Traditional good looks, comes as a pretty package, received smoothly, finishes clean.

2. Sultry.. musky.. soulful and full. Like a heady hazy hookup in a 70's disco lounge.

3. Raw, core richness. An amazonion cave woman who'll club you over the head, and you will enjoy every minute of it.

4. Smooth and sexy. Yes - she's a redhead but you still want to take her home.

5. Over dressed. All icing, and no cup cake.

6. The obvious classic. Short sharp, sassy and astute. Stringent neutrality with no offensive alcoholic burn.

And finally, You don't know whether she'll end up under the table or under the host. ''Hold my bag, I'm getting a shwarma.''

I can't admit to being as highly evolved a taster to observe great variance on visual clarity.. Its all clear, there is a nearly noticeable difference in viscosity that I'm not sure would ordinarily present when served ice cold.

There is a purity and depth, so innate - much like tasting the blue water sourced from glaciers. And then comparing it to Evian or Valpre. Unlike malt whiskey, or bourbon - there is no highly distinguishable characteristic that greatly sets Vodkas apart. Well, nothing personally notable. Being distilled from Rye, Viognier Grapes, Potatoes or Rice.. They deliver differently, parade as grappa's or tease your gag reflex with paraffin qualities. I want a vodka that presents clean, with depth, clarity, and simplicity. There is no pretense here... It has to be straightforward. No nostril curling qualities.. I want comfortable vapours, fleeting impressions left by an otherwise very honest spirit. And Oh how honest one becomes after a couple of shots.

It has replaced Gin as the base spirit in many cocktails.. I can dig it. Sipping on a Porn Star Martini - Vodka and Passion Fruit pulp with a bijoux flute of Bubbly on the side. I am so over Quinine. Gin can stick it.

I ventured into the land that abstinence forgot, looking for distinction over distinctiveness - I found it.

Warwick Professor Black Sauvignon Blanc.

She has a fresh and pretty face , a wiggle in her walk and a giggle in her talk, she is Eve that bit the apple, laced with temptation and delight. She is clutching a satin black purse and jumps into the cab you just hailed in down town L.A. - without batting a perfectly shadowed eye-lid. She lunches in Soho, she weekends in the Hamptons. She has elusive, star quality finesse with an enigmatic worldly character that screams ''international appeal" She is Charlize before, and after the accent. Her bust is bursting at the seams of her satin dress with class. She is all about outward access, and inward reserve, you may just never completely figure her out. Immaculate in delivery, she is a sweet talker with her eye on the ball. She will intoxicate you with her wit and finishing school values. She has the time, and the money, you will want to spend both on her. She is a champagne blonde with pearl white teeth; she is lean and moves like silk. She is a peacock of glorious boasting and complexity. She is the sweet ripe fruit of youth, dripping from your chin.

Diemersdal Matys.

George Jardine @ Jordan Restaurant

This was more like an afternoon at an Art Gallery than it was a brief lunch at Jordan Restaurant. These are not meals, George Jardine is an artist, his dishes are sensually interactive edible installations through which one can journey and enjoy epicurean wonder.

I had visited the previous Sunday, with my Jack Russell in tow and 15 minutes prior to kitchen closing cut off time. Cheeky, I know.
The deck was seated to capacity with elegent diners and enthusiastic foodies. The Maitre'D suggested we settle for a cheese board on the lawn and a light-hearted sampling of 6 wines in the tasting room. I made it my point to return again while my indulgence intentions and interest were still fresh and rampant. I was back at lunch, the very next day. Early on a Monday so I wasn't surprised by the huge contrast of a full restaurant on one day and it being empty the next.


Okay, besides a tame party of two in the corner who's conversation decibel level raised occasionally and ever so slightly just enough for me to ascertain they were French.
 
Despite it being quiet, the atmosphere is warm and welcoming. There is a simplicity to the decor and functional layout of the restaurant. The kitchen is open plan and faces the panorama of neighbouring farms and mountains. There is no attempt to over accessorize the dining experience. The focus falls solely onto the food delivered with a high standard of service. This is an approach I appreciate. It seems honest, devoid the stiffness and artificial austere air that fine dining establishments stink of. This is a touch of class without being pompous.


I sat inside watching a howling wind and grey skies outside. My table was a perfect vantage point to watch the bustling energy of the kitchen as well as take in the garden vineyards of De Morgenzon Wine Estate next door which came alive with movement of wind whipping through the vineyards and rows of wild flowers.


I had tasted the Jordan Barrel Fermented Chardonnay 2008 on my previous visit,  I found it had a gorgeous and enticing complexity that demanded some food.

Bright green lime,

stoney mineral character

and a buttery

lingering

mouthfeel.

A friendly waiter called me M'am and served me an assemblage of breads. Parsnip chips, a Poppy Seed Twist of Bread and a tiny well of Aioli (A sort of garlic/olive oil mayonnaise). My glass of wine followed shortly - Impeccable timing!

This photograph has been shamelessly copied and pasted from Chris von Ulmenstein's blog, I see she has also lunched at Jordan.

There's something almost biblical about breaking bread and drinking wine. I hoped there was fish on the menu. This could be my act of repent, for the sacrilege of arriving barefoot with my Jack Russell the day before.

I decided on the R200 for two dishes option, and with another sip of my Barrel Fermented Chardy, I embarked on the bread board. The side plate provided is a another artwork in its own right - A rustic, heavy and square ceramic plate. Nice balance to everything else that felt so sleight and dainty.


When dining out , I always order my food after having decided on the wine I will be drinking. A form follows function way of thinking. I usually also eat dessert first, then have my starter and my main. Espresso or anything pastry, chocolate,fruit filled to finish. Today was a 2 course affair however.


I chose what I think is the most complimentary pairing for a Barrrel Fermented Chardonnay.  Spring sugar snap peas, pea puree, goats cheese, pancetta, nasturtium and prune. Followed by Barrel smoked line caught hake with a fricassee of chorizo, broad beans, calamari and spinach.   

Because it is not an overly oaked infusion the subtle lime and pear flavours of Chardonnay are not lost. I found them ever more prevalent after tasting the broth in which the Hake was served. The texture of the Hake was incredible, As if I was prying a secret out of it, I gently dug my fork into the fillet and it flaked in perfectly cooked peices. As if I could have expected anything less. It was perched on a bed of spinach that floated in a seemingly Thai inspired broth, it was zesty and clean. The chorico added some salty meatiness to the dish which I enjoyed - sometimes hake can be insipid.

The nasturtium salad was so intricate in presentation and flavour, a puree of peas sat neatly on my plate, teamed with the Gorgonzola, I was in textural and taste utopia. Nutty mid palate richness that was lifted by the greens of the salad, and balanced by the gentle acidity of the wine. I would have liked to stand up and 'wooped' over at George but I thought rather not, the French twosome might not appreciate an outburst of appreciation.


The wine list is delightful, each page features quotes and quips about wine, little pieces of philosophy  that are quite endearing. I was spotted scribbling in my diary , the Maitre D offered to email the wine list and menu to me after I explained I was doing a personal review and actually enjoyed my handwritten archive of metaphors and notes. He took my details anyway and both menu and wine list were awaiting me in my inbox later that day.


I was most impressed with the personal service, Upon arrival I mentioned  I had only 60 minutes for my lunch. My courses were not rushed and my bill arrived as if they had been watching the clock for me. I was off to my next meeting without adding stress to my schedule. I finished my last sip of wine glancing over at George Jardine operate in his kitchen, it was performance art. He's so involved in his craft, Im not bothered by the fact he hasn't ventured out to his diners for the faux P.R I'm used to seeing. I feel the excellence of his dishes spoke to me far better than a conversation could. A true artists work speaks of its creator. I left thanking my waiter and host for what they added to my dining experience at Jordan Restaurant.

Jordan Restaurant with George Jardine, Jordan Winery, Stellenbosch Kloof Road, Stellenbosch.  Tel (021) 881-3612.  www.jordanrestaurant.co.za and www.jordanwines.com. Open for lunch Wednesdays - Sundays, and on Thursday and Friday evenings for dinner.

Friday Bandwidth Binge on E-zines.

Having a serious browsing session with post-design facelift Wine Magazine , and Michael Oliviers #2 Crush Online.

Dinastia Vivanco.

Poster Child for 1990's Grunge and Angst - Pearl Jam's Edddie Vedder with a mystery wine on stage in Spain...

I've been following this thread at www.thecru.co.za

Check it out.