Johannesburg restaurants and dining culture

THE HUNGRY CITY

The Johannesburg dining culture is nothing if not fragile, but there are still a few very good restaurants to be found. By Victor Strugo.

In the last year or so, publicists have started advertising Johannesburg as "a world-class African city." A claim to such global stature implies an index of quality and not merely size or commercial influence. If this is so, the purported "class" should manifest in diverse ways, from public services to the arts - including matters culinary which form part of any culture.

 

During the seventeen years that I've been reviewing Johannesburg's restaurants weekly, this culture has been eroded, revived, positioned, repositioned, diluted, misled and misunderstood. Particularly by those who automatically think in terms of the rivalry between the country's two biggest cities. I see no useful purpose in subscribing to this "Great Divide" cliché. Compatriot towns may share some underlying characteristics, but they reflect more strongly their different populations. A city where visitors come to cut deals with neurotic workaholics who drive fast enough to flatten speed-bumps will not breathe the same air - let alone eat the same way - as one where office workers out-number holidaymakers on every beach after lunch. Even on weekdays.

Moreover, comparisons inevitably lead to generalisations. Any Capetonian who tries to make a mountain out of a mine dump is missing the point: that Johannesburg is a kaleidoscope made up of several million people across a wide spectrum of cultures, purses and pursuits. In dining terms, it is always toward the pinnacle that people look first. And if a large, truly world-class city should offer an abundance of worldclass gourmet cuisine... well, why is there so little of that in Joburg?

This is a painful point - particularly to anyone who's lived here since the heyday of true fine dining. In the 1980s, Europeantrained chefs who had settled after coming out to work at the top hotels started to look beyond the grand old institutions (The Prospect Room at the Sunnyside Park, Chapters at the new Sandton Sun and the sublime Three Ships at the Carlton) and made the change to chef-patron status. Soon the city boasted enticing destinations like Ma Cuisine, Zoo Lake, St Germain, Pot Luck, La Margaux, The Fiddler, Thermann's, Île de France, Chez Patrice.... Fine dining restaurants seemed to outnumber even cafés.

Only two of those high street independents survive today. The newer of the two, Freda Appelbaum's Le Canard in Morningside has been around 21 years - an unusually good innings in this town, yet not even half of the 48-year run of Linger Longer, which graduated from a tea-room to silver service when a young Austrian chef named Walter Ulz took over the kitchen. Constantly reinventing their food without ever compromising on standards, both are rightly respected as indomitable Titans on a sea of sunken Titanics.

What wrecked the ship? I first sensed that refined cuisine was becoming an endangered species ten years ago and sought to answer this question in an article in The Star entitled "Who is killing the great chefs of Joburg?" A couple had actually died and half a dozen more retired, but that still didn't account for the alarming rate of attrition of smart restaurants. I narrowed my investigation down to a half dozen suspects, all of whom turned out to be part of the same unwitting conspiracy.

One murky character was the rival restaurateur. A free-market system easily spirals out of control. Greed and unrealistic ambition result in gross over-trading. Many newcomers (who seemed to focus more on overblown décor than food and service) eventually failed, but good ones were also harmed. The worst of the upstarts was the rookie. The deceptively easy-going façade of this business attracted a number of inexperienced novices who underestimated the hard work and required expertise. Many personal nest eggs evaporated and dabbling entrepreneurs who couldn't distinguish phyllo pastry from philosophy blew big bucks. In the meantime, amateurish restaurants inevitably harm professionals by diverting curious customers long enough to dent the bank balance.

The banker was also in on it. Short credit terms inhibited creative chefs from offering adventurous menus with only a small niche appeal. The message: chefs may be food experts but they must follow, not lead. Give the masses what they want. In Norwood, Faff opens with a fresh new take on dégustation. A year later, it's become a kosher steak-house. Goodbye creativity.

I also cross-examined the restaurant critic. When a number of poisoned pens repeatedly belittle the local dining scene and people start believing that there isn't anything good around, they soon start settling for less. Ironically, the critic's boss was beating a completely different drum. The brave new politically correct newspaper editor that emerged during the post-democratic 1990s cared not a jot for declining standards: he was on a mission to denounce smart restaurants as "elitist" and reallocate column inches to the vacuous icons of pop, soccer and reality television. And as independent opinion became scarcer, a different type of editor emerged to make money by charging restaurateurs for inclusion into valueless "guides" that were nothing more than thinly disguised advertorial.

The over-trading already mentioned was worsened by the developer, who saturated the suburbs with shoulder-to-shoulder shopping centres, charging fabulous rents that only corporates could afford, filling Food Courts everywhere with the same dozen fast food franchises.

But the mastermind behind this gang was... the diner. The demise of fine dining in Joburg is directly attributable to lazy diners who can't be bothered to drive further than the local shopping centre, to vain diners who care little for quality and crave only to be seen at trendy spots frequented by "celebrities"; to gullible diners who fall for the illusion of thrift in tawdry "family" restaurants that are actually no bargain at all once you cost in the side dishes and trip to the salad bar. Diners who won't admit they've been duped and talk themselves into believing that a good time and meal was had by all, gradually lose the capacity to appreciate something better.

Dwindling expectations have diminished the number of deluxe restaurants. Tough times have sent a number of good chefs scurrying for the relative security of luxury hotels (some large, some boutique, but emphatically not the vulgar casino complexes that dish up over-priced fodder in glitzy trappings). In return for catering for functions, they also get to operate smart restaurants where creative cooking finds favour among appreciative tourists and those locals who still seek to infuse a big night out with a sense of occasion.

With new chefs at the Westcliff and Saxon and a relaunch of the Hyatt's restaurant, it's too early to renew one's confidence in these places, but one that has found the balance of exciting food and gracious service in an unintimidating setting is Roots at Forum Homini. Worth a detour, as they say.

In irritating contrast, suburbs such as Greenside and Rosebank have sprouted a few totally bogus venues that label themselves "fine dining", price accordingly, but wouldn't know this beast if it sat next to them.

With few remaining exceptions, then, it seems that Johannesburg's former dining culture has passed on. Rather than mourn or moan, let's accept that life is cyclical and ask from where the next wave of excellence will emerge. Most celebrated culinary styles originated in home and country, spread to mainstream eateries and ultimately found new expressions in the ambitious kitchens of inspired chefs. The global village has changed this pattern insofar as chefs, recipes and ingredients cross borders at will, engaging in promiscuous dalliances with resident regional styles.

As a young city with a constant influx of immigrants, Johannesburg never had time to develop its own style. The meat culture common to traditional tribal life and gung-ho mining-days still remains firmly entrenched, but finds only one world-class expression, at Sandton's original and only Butcher Shop & Grill. The most visible attempts to bring traditional African cooking to the fore have been theme parks with seductive décor, face paint, tom-toms - and sanitised food. Fun for a while, but then people move on. Soweto tourist restaurants are a bit closer to the African mark, but they too water down the township feel to a safe level.

If any Africans are putting authenticity ahead of commercialism, it's the immigrants. An ingenuous gem is Abysinia, the Kensington spin-off of Amsale's in Jeppe Street. Run by an Ethiopian couple who literally walked to South Africa to make a fresh start, Abysinia is totally traditional, scrupulously clean and absurdly inexpensive. Somewhat smarter and genuinely Congolese is Jacqueline Piccard's Zemara (this one in Pretoria). Both have a dignity that's absent from the larger quasi-African extravaganzas of Melrose Arch and Mandela Square. And anyone brave enough to explore the African underbelly will find in the northern suburbs decidedly dodgy Congolese and Cameroonian night-clubs where francophone chefs like to chill out in the wee hours.

During the nineties, the city enthusiastically embraced a number of newly offered oriental styles. Many Thai cooks arrived, but most work for local entrepreneurs looking to combine exotic allure with food safely accessible to western palates: instead of a bouquet of complex spice, they give your tongue a shot of chilli and then coat it with coconut milk. Baby steps may have been a cautious strategy for introducing Thai as a novelty, but they haven't moved on since. One glowing exception is Thai Airways' consultant chef Micky Liu at her cosy Sai Thai in Cyrildene's Chinatown. Another is the ever-present and inimitable tall Dutchman of Rosebank Mall.

If the steak culture epitomises the conservative Johannesburger, he also has a more adventurous counterpart who has made sushi a stratospheric success, ubiquitous not only in ethnic Japanese eateries, but also as an extra offering from most seafood purveyors. A sushi/sashimi alternative is even offered at the vibrant Bellagio, playing second fiddle to Louise Castle's marvellous Mediterranean fare. This "dual-medium" concept has started to spread - partly as a way to reduce cancellations when one recalcitrant member of a table doesn't like the same food style as his friends. Bellagio does this the right way, with two completely separate kitchens.

But there's also danger in dilution. A restaurant that bends too far in a futile quest to be all things to all people loses its identity. Look only at the once individualistic range of Greenside, Parkhurst and Melville bistros that have gradually ended up indistinguishable from each other. Their menus offer a bit of Europe seasoned with a dash of the Orient, garnished with a sprig of Africa. This confusion (it's both fusion and a con) seems to have become Joburg's new amorphous comfort food. It is as predictable and boring as the meals that go straight from the shelves of Woolworths into the microwaves of passive diners who have lost the will to explore.

Which is a great pity, because if they searched a little, they'd find a thrilling variety of excellent food in this town. Standing out from a morass of mediocrity in Fourways is Le Soufflé, where Marc Guébert's affordable "fine lite" French dishes lift one's mood as high as .. well, a Guébert soufflé. In Parktown North, Fino is about the only restaurant whose tapas are recognisably Spanish and not a philistine adoption of a fashionable euphemism for nondescript finger food. And in Rivonia, the Sheikh's Palace stands as the country's unique example of sophisticated Middle Eastern dining with a top-notch wine list. Live entertainment in Joburg is most often there to divert attention from indifferent food and service, but at the Sheikh it's an appropriately contextual adjunct to superlative Lebanese cuisine.

Beneath Johannesburg's turbulent surface there are many indicators of exciting gastronomy in the making. The dining pinnacle may not be as exclusive as it once was, but a city with cosmopolitan aspirations should firstly aim to be inclusive. The rest will come as a matter of course.

Recommended
Joburg restaurants

• Abysinia, Langerman Drive/
cnr Queen Street, Kensington,
Tel: 072 918-8824

• Bellagio, Blubird Shopping
Centre, Athol Oaklands Rd/Fort
St, Birnam, Tel: (011) 885-3938

• Butcher Shop & Grill, Nelson
Mandela Square, Sandown,
Tel: (011) 784-8676

• Fino, 19, Fourth Avenue,
Parktown North,
Tel: (011) 880-6808

• Le canard, 163 Rivonia Road,
Morningside,
Tel: (011) 884-4597

• Le soufflé, Pineslopes Centre,
Corner The Straight/Witkoppen
Rd, Fourways,
Tel: (011) 465-4116

• Linger longer, 58 Wierda Road
West, Wierda Valley,
Tel: (011) 884-0465

• Roots, Letamo Game Reserve,
Kromdraai Road, The Cradle of
Humankind, Tel: (011) 668-7000

• Sai thai, Corner Marcia St/
Derrick Ave, Cyrildene,
Tel: (011) 615-1339

• Sheikh's palace, 9th Ave/Rivonia
Rd, Rivonia, Tel: (011) 807-4119