It’s often said by better
journalists than me that the best position to investigate a subject from is
total prior ignorance – to avoid preconceptions or
presumptions. Being relatively new to
the Wellington scene, I had no idea of Havana’s place in the Wellington social circuit, nor the respective
histories of its owners Roger Young and Pottie (Chris Wagstaff) – so I had the rare
chance to take its new eatery at face value.
And I can tell you, as far
as faces go, Havana
has a lovely mug. Located on Wigan
St (off Taranaki), the bar has existed for quite a
few years now, but the restaurant has only lately filled the vacuum left by the
relocation of the Havana Coffee Works to Tory Street. As the name suggests, there
is a strong Cuban influence and the Latin American music was especially optimistic
on the evening I visited, perfectly suiting the gigantic high that sat across
the country last week.
We decided to make use of
the deck, which gets the mid-November sun at a good angle to suit a 4-7pm
sitting. We noticed with a quick peer over the railing that there were another
couple of tables down at street level for those who want to prolong their
sun exposure even longer. Pottie started us off with a Renaissance Perfection Pale
Ale, which was a wonderful palate sharpener with its rich burnt toffee notes and
clean hops. Fittingly for a wine lover like me, we got to drink out of Riedel
red wine glasses, which focus the aromas and encourage the thorough
contemplation of the beverage at hand.
For me that was a big tick even before the food arrived. The décor is
stylish but unassuming, and I know many more pretentious restaurants that still
refuse to acknowledge the importance of glassware, or at least think it’s OK to
save a few dinero by skimping on it. While it might hurt a little when the odd
pricey stem bites the dust, the type of crowd you attract by paying attention
to the details will make breakages not only less frequent, but hopefully offset by steadier revenue.
After eyeing the tapas menu hungrily, the only option was to go for the ‘Chef’s Plate for 2’, which was
the culinary equivalent of picking ‘all of the above’ in a multi-choice exam (always
a good sign for a restaurant menu, never a good sign for an exam). For the record, the platter contained: Crisp
potatoes with paprika salt and lemon
aioli; Big Olives - donkey greens, volou super mammouth, kalamata; Small Olives
- nicoise, arbequina, pickled garlic; Marcona Almonds toasted in olive oil and
sea salt; Warm balsamic onions and artichoke hearts; Roasted Thyme Mushrooms
finished with sherry vinegar; White anchovies with parsley, lemon and
caperberries; Hot red pepperdews stuffed with Persian feta, toasted hazelnuts, Manchego
cheese with quince paste; Grilled bread with Jamón Serrano gran reserve and
scorched cherry tomatoes; Mojo criollo pork skewers with spiked anchiote oil; and
a Cured meat plate - wagyu, sopressa nonna, campagnolo, pickles….
And yes it was as good as it
sounds. By the time the food had arrived we were enjoying it with a Founders
Tall Blonde. So often with tapas, the idea is good but the execution is
lacking. Pottie spoke of trying to break down the Anglo-Saxon way of eating –
the notion of one big plate for each diner and ne’er the twain shall meet – but
it seems obvious why it can be a tough sell. Many less scrupulous restaurateurs
seized on the tapas craze as an opportunity to fleece their diners under a
guise of sophistication, with small plates of generic European cuisine.
Thankfully most diners saw through it and only the chefs doing it for love not
money are thriving.
Havana is without doubt one of those. The tapas was
unequivocally some of the best I’ve had, giving Auckland’s much-vaunted Bellota a run for its
money on quality. The olives were quite simply a revelation – fat, juicy and
varied; while the balsamic pickled onions worked beautifully with our final
beer of the evening, the 8 Wired Rewired Brown Ale, with the malty
breadth and the focused hops.
The new dining room to the
left (as you enter through the new entrance) seats around 35 people, but you
can eat in any number of places, from the deck (as we did) to the funky
courtyard out the back. It’s a flexibility that makes a diner feel right at
home and is in keeping with the laidback Latin vibe. The wine list is broad and
considered and the beer is also geared towards food, with the
bottle-conditioned Coopers range on tap, as well as Tuatara and a rotating
guest tap.
It’s
nice to be able to recommend a place wholeheartedly based not on reputation but
on great food and great drink. My professional advice would be to get in while
you can, as once two people try those olives….well, they’ll tell two people…and
then they’ll tell two people…..you get the idea. Get in on the ground floor of
the new Havana.