NIGHT MOVES
Kim Knight discovers some surprises on a Ponsonby kitchen’s new dinner menu
You go your whole life without meeting a shishito — and then bump into hundreds of them in the same week. I can’t vouch for the offerings at Omni, Candela or Onslow (just some of the Auckland restaurants whose social media feeds recently featured this bright green capsicum-adjacent gem) but at
Orphans Kitchen they were glorious.
“One in 20 is very hot,” warned the waitperson. “Like a padron?” I asked, as per someone who has been to Spain exactly once.
This pair of peppers is, it transpires, closely related. They are both innocuous — until they are not. Exact counts vary, but everyone agrees on the principle: The risk of a jalapeno-level burn from a Spanish padron is around double that from a Japanese shishito.
I was three of these little peppers deep when the Scoville rating leapt up and punched me in the throat. I’d have been disappointed if it hadn’t. (Imagine going to Parliament and not meeting Winston Peters?)
Take away the burn with a slick of goat’s milk. It’s not as odd as it sounds. Mostly you will be nibbling on pleasantly charred and vaguely grassy peppers; the little pool of milk they sit in simply adds salt, fat and a pleasant respite should you lose this round of culinary roulette.
Orphans Kitchen was the restaurant that brought chef Tom Hishon (Kingi, Daily Bread) to Auckland’s attention. It opened with a roar and then reverted to a daytime-only operation. Evening service recently resumed in partnership with Dan Gillet (Wine
Diamonds, Everyday Wine) and the stated aim is “delicious wine and snacks”. The $90 tin of caviar on ice is an outlier (the next dearest dish is a $35 shareable steak). On the day of our visit, the kitchen was doing interesting things with parsnips and mole, and there was organic chicken with a koji mayo and black lime that surely defies any of the usual cliches about chicken being a safe option. In short, the wine bar vibe easily accommodates a dinner-sized appetite (though the seating — tiny, almost backless stools — will require long stayers to have good core strength). Food and drinks arrive with friendly efficiency and, following the complimentary nuts (thank you!), you must start with a “gilda”. The $5 single bite skewer of pickled chilli, salty anchovy and green olive is the aperitif you can chew — a negroni without the headache.
Should we be paying $3.50 per spear of asparagus? Nope, but that’s what it will cost if you want six perfectly cooked specimens atop a slurry of minty herbs and under a heap of toasted macadamia.
The season is short, and restaurants have to make moolah while the sun finally shines.
I didn’t enjoy the smoked kahawai and ‘nduja croquettes. A very crisp exterior and an eventextured smoke-on-smoke interior left my taste buds swimming against the tide for something that was obviously “fish” (the discovery of a bone was a less than ideal confirmation of origin).
I recall four types of steak, growing up. Rump and porterhouse were fried, blade and flank were casseroled. More recently, I’ve come to appreciate the latter as “bavette”. Just seared and thinly sliced, it’s chewy and flavoursome and a little goes a long way. Orphans adds a classic garlicky-herbymustardy butter and an unexpectedly kale-centric salsa verde. Pair it with truffle and parmesan fries, a salad built from Kelmarna Community Farm greenery and mark it in your calendar as a recurring event — this has to be the easiest midweek wagyu in town. The dessert list sounds simple. Cheese, tiramisu or black cardamom truffles. The latter were rolled in an intensely dark cacao nib and a chewy toffee centre had been taken to the very edge of its endurance. Truffles not to be trifled with and, I think, the essence of Orphans by night.
You read the menu and think you understand what’s coming — and then it sneaks up and surprises you anyway.