A couple of things sprang to mind when I heard that an all day breakfast spot, specialising in egg dishes, was opening in Melville.
The first was that a few years ago, while researching an article I was writing on creme brulee, I learnt that a chef's hat reputedly has 100 folds, representing the one hundred ways there are to prepare an egg (it's knowledge of trivia like this which I believe makes me an outstanding dinner party guest).
The second was my deep regret that, when I was honeymooning in Israel, we never got to try Tel Aviv's famous 24-hour breakfast restaurant, Dr Shakshuka. Actually, this is one of several things I would change about my honeymoon if I could. I would also have stopped gushing to every single customs official that I saw that I had just arrived in my spiritual homeland, because for some reason this identified me as a security threat. When on honeymoon, it is not romantic to be dragged into the special searching office to have your dirty clothes honeycombed by eagle-eyed security personnel who seem impervious to young love. It reached the point where my husband begged me to stop greeting everyone with a Shalom, I'm Jewish too - but I think he was just embarrassed because I was acting like those African-Americans who disembark from their SAA flight and start kissing Cape Town's soil while singing "Halleluja, I've come home".
But I digress...Obviously, checking out Pablo Eggs Go Bar was the remedy to my Israeli oversight. I have been soooo egg-cited to try it (sorry - couldn't resist) - and yesterday was finally my day.
First of all, I loved the decor. For a while, I have had a major art deco crush, so the whole look of the place had massive appeal for me - how I wished I was swishing in with a fox stole draped from my shoulders, a cigarette holder dangling from my gloved fingers and Cole Porter jaunting jazzily in the background.
On the plus side, being a product of the twenty-first century meant that I could attack my green shakshuka with a gusto and lack of elegance no self-respecting woman of the '30s would have displayed. Which is good, because I literally could not help making one of those embarrassing foodgasm sounds - you know, mmmmmmmyuuuummm mmmm- when I took my first bite. That mouthful burst with a pop of flavour that meant I couldn't get the second forkful in fast enough. The dish was a play on regular shakshuka (think comfortingly rich tomato stew fragrant with smoky paprika, a cayenne bite and cumin for warmth): green shakshuka has a spinach base and is served on a satisfyingly chewy cushion of lavash bread, with hummus and Israeli salad on the side. The lavash was toothsomely carby: if you would rather undergo a week's worth of colonic irrigations than turn Banting, this is undoubtedly your dream food. The eggs were perfectly done, and what I loved most was that every mouthful tasted a little different: one was chili-sharp, the next was garlicky, the next was bitter-fresh with parsely.
Also nice is the great workstation setup for people who want to coffice. And, of course, the fact that you can have breakfast for dinner.
The only drawback is that, at R100 for my dish, I think it's a little pricey - but well worth the splurge.
The first was that a few years ago, while researching an article I was writing on creme brulee, I learnt that a chef's hat reputedly has 100 folds, representing the one hundred ways there are to prepare an egg (it's knowledge of trivia like this which I believe makes me an outstanding dinner party guest).
The second was my deep regret that, when I was honeymooning in Israel, we never got to try Tel Aviv's famous 24-hour breakfast restaurant, Dr Shakshuka. Actually, this is one of several things I would change about my honeymoon if I could. I would also have stopped gushing to every single customs official that I saw that I had just arrived in my spiritual homeland, because for some reason this identified me as a security threat. When on honeymoon, it is not romantic to be dragged into the special searching office to have your dirty clothes honeycombed by eagle-eyed security personnel who seem impervious to young love. It reached the point where my husband begged me to stop greeting everyone with a Shalom, I'm Jewish too - but I think he was just embarrassed because I was acting like those African-Americans who disembark from their SAA flight and start kissing Cape Town's soil while singing "Halleluja, I've come home".
But I digress...Obviously, checking out Pablo Eggs Go Bar was the remedy to my Israeli oversight. I have been soooo egg-cited to try it (sorry - couldn't resist) - and yesterday was finally my day.
First of all, I loved the decor. For a while, I have had a major art deco crush, so the whole look of the place had massive appeal for me - how I wished I was swishing in with a fox stole draped from my shoulders, a cigarette holder dangling from my gloved fingers and Cole Porter jaunting jazzily in the background.
On the plus side, being a product of the twenty-first century meant that I could attack my green shakshuka with a gusto and lack of elegance no self-respecting woman of the '30s would have displayed. Which is good, because I literally could not help making one of those embarrassing foodgasm sounds - you know, mmmmmmmyuuuummm mmmm- when I took my first bite. That mouthful burst with a pop of flavour that meant I couldn't get the second forkful in fast enough. The dish was a play on regular shakshuka (think comfortingly rich tomato stew fragrant with smoky paprika, a cayenne bite and cumin for warmth): green shakshuka has a spinach base and is served on a satisfyingly chewy cushion of lavash bread, with hummus and Israeli salad on the side. The lavash was toothsomely carby: if you would rather undergo a week's worth of colonic irrigations than turn Banting, this is undoubtedly your dream food. The eggs were perfectly done, and what I loved most was that every mouthful tasted a little different: one was chili-sharp, the next was garlicky, the next was bitter-fresh with parsely.
Also nice is the great workstation setup for people who want to coffice. And, of course, the fact that you can have breakfast for dinner.
The only drawback is that, at R100 for my dish, I think it's a little pricey - but well worth the splurge.
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