Hartenberg Honeys at Madame Zingara
Aah, Madame Zingara, The Love Magic Tour, dinner cirque spectacular is very Triplets of Bellville where the MC is a Queen of Tarts dwarf fondling his/her pink and gold Madonna cone nipples before you’ve eaten your antipasti! What with the combination of chunky, thick Eastern Bloc beats, the Catholicism of stained glass windows, the hoopla girl in gold hot-pants with pink ribbons zigzagging up her thighs, if you squinted you’d think you’d already arrived in heaven. Madame Zingara is very camp disco slash burlesque slash Cirque du Soleil.
Having blown our budget the night before on Waterford’s The Jem in a fit of madness instigated by my glam wine partner-in-crime, No-Budget-Blevins, we ordered a few bottles of the peppery Hartenberg Cabernet Shiraz Blend (R155) and became celebrated as The Hartenberg Honeys!
I had met the charming winemaker, Carl Schultz at the Buxtons La Cave winter wine festival at La Lucia Mall the week before where he generously shared his buxom Hartenberg Mackenzie – aah she with such beautiful mouth feel and the structure of a sultry Lisbon housewife in champagne heels.
Alas, Madame Zingara’s wine list did not extend to the Mackenzie, but still their wine list is no fool with a delicious range from the pricier Rust en Vrede Cab Sauv (R260) to the Brampton Sauvignon Blanc (R145). Their rooi wyn list also included the elegant Warwick First Lady Cab Sauv (R165), the plummy Villiera Merlot (R165) and the intoxicating Kevin Arnold Shiraz (R295). The wit ou’s included Ken Forrester Chenin Blanc (R140), Durbanville Hills Sauv Blanc (R155) and Groote Post Old Man’s blend (R145). But Madame Zingara’s Mongolian contortionists slash Princess Leia’s were a wild and perfect complement to sipping delish Hartenberg Cabernet Shiraz 2007.
And you have to dress up to sink into this party. I hauled out my slinky gold Gideon snakeskin pants to eye out the bare-chested Ukrainian boys in black karate sweat pants playing with acres of rope. There was a delish Othello-looking rap poet from the Caribbean who looked like a fine Pinot Noir which made me swear off dating Chenin Blanc guys ever again. There was a singer with mountainous bosoms and no hips in a midnight blue long velvet dress with a sexy derrière the size of Jamaica who sang: “I wanna two-fisted double-jointed rough and ready man!”
And, hell, when an eight foot gorilla greets you at the door of a Parisian style circus tent with a potent yellow cocktail in a champers glass, you know you’re in for a good evening.
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