Edo solves the problem
On Papanui Rd lies the solution to a first-world humanitarian crisis: what to eat for dinner. Alastair Paulin reports from the scene.
If Riccarton Rd can lay claim to being Christchurch’s restaurant row, what should we call the melting pot of restaurants clustered along Papanui Rd and Main North Rd? Cuisine corner?
Within a few hundred metres, you can travel around the globe on a plate: Thai, Egyptian, Chinese, Brazilian, Taiwanese, Indian, English pub grub, burgers, and no doubt a few other cuisines that I missed are represented here in a United Nations of plates.
There may not be any blue helmets keeping the peace on the ground but it is as if the world has rallied together to solve a low-level, first-world humanitarian crisis in Christchurch: what to eat for dinner.
If the Japanese offering is anything to go by, I’ll be back to try a few other countries’ answer to this pressing concern.
Edo, like most of its international cousins in this strip, is tucked into the narrow street frontage of a typical Kiwi cafe but the resemblance ends at the footpath. Inside, a cluster of circular lampshades, Japanese prints and some simple but snazzy red chairs and black tables set against black wall padding make for an elegant interior.
Jaunty swing was playing in the background as we warmed ourselves with green tea and browsed the menu.
With kids in tow, we were lobbied for some fried starters and after much teen bickering over whether it was ever OK to order fries in a Japanese restaurant, we relented.
Lotus root chips had just a hint of the nuttiness of the sauteed vegetable (the stem of the beautiful flower revered in Buddhism) but kept its tender yet crisp essence. The deep-fried discs made the ideal delivery system for the accompanying wasabi cream sauce, which was well-balanced between the horseradish kick of the wasabi and the cool smoothness of the mayonnaise base.
And the dried seaweed sprinkled over the Aonori potatoes helped settle the argument over whether fries in a Japanese restaurant were a wasted order. The fries were thick-cut, fluffy potatoes that hit the spot.
We popped edamame into our mouths but looked in vain for an an empty bowl for discarded soy bean pods, settling on using the side plate that only some of us got.
The service was a bit lack-lustre, with our amiable waiter leaving empty plates sitting and making little effort to check up on us.
But that was merely a minor hitch. Our mains arrived and we were all struck by the beautiful presentation. A “small” sashimi and sushi platter had 12 pieces of sashimi, three nigiri and a five piece sushi roll in a lacquer bowl. The tuna and salmon were rich and fatty and the local whitefish – gurnard and terakihi – were very fresh.
My slow-cooked pork belly featured juicy slices of kakuni, which is similar to the charshu pork found in ramen. But this was deeper, darker, and richer, and it lent its complex flavours to a concentrated broth at the bottom of the bowl. The glistening slices of meat sat on a bed of stir-fried vegetables, mostly cabbage, and including cauliflower, broccoli and carrot. A pair of quail egg halves, a dollop of mustard sauce and an artful clump of julienned vegetables topped the inviting-looking bowl.
The mustard sauce transformed the dish, with its vinegary bite reminding me of German bratwurst, or even corned beef and cabbage – a far cry from the lighter, sweeter notes I usually associate with Japanese food and a great choice on a rainy night.
The teens went for more traditional fare, with a kids’ menu teriyaki chicken sushi roll a beautiful 10-piece board and less cloying than most teriyaki sauces. A kaarage crispy chicken donburi bowl was loaded with salad greens and tender chicken thigh pieces and an udon noodle soup/tempura combo featured an excellent, light batter on the tempura shrimp and vegetables.
We all thought our mains were a notch above standard fare and couldn’t find anything to fault.
Although we were full, we were tempted by the intriguing sounding mini melts icecream, made by immersing icecream in a bath of liquid nitrogen. But since the kitchen was out of that, we didn’t have to wage that battle between satiation and curiosity.