Farm fresh in bustling Pretoria
Located just off busy Lynnwood Road in the east of the city, Fermier is a tranquil haven with exquisite food
We tend to think of Joburg or Cape Town for South Africa’s best cuisine. Then, much like Cape Town has nearby Stellenbosch with its own interesting restaurants, we have Pretoria here in Gauteng. Its restaurants are also mighty good but have often been surprisingly located: on a golf course, on eccentric hotel grounds in an eco-reserve, in a toy-town structured enclave, at a super-bland shopping centre.
I don’t think any of them beat the location of Fermier. The name does more than hint at a farm situation, but on hyperactively urban Lynnwood Road it does seem odd suddenly to face one of those wide farm gates that has to be opened by hand, where you expect a cattle grid as well.
There’s a gear change necessary to take on the rougher dirt road ahead. You pass craft signposts directing you on, even past a caravan, to a clearing in the veld.
Two formally clad figures in summer’s early evening sunshine are waiting to welcome guests. Belonna Moti in her starched white shirt, black skirt and pumps guides me around a wall, between plants, along a loosely bricked path, down a couple of rough wooden steps and into the restaurant.
It’s not a shed, as has been said, but a concrete, earth and tin structure with an outdoor brick chimney and dark wooden planks. Belonna shows me through the entrance into the rather beautiful wood and metal interior of Fermier.
I’ve wheedled a pre-dinner walk around the farm with chef Adriaan Maree. While inquisitive geese and ducks watch from a safe distance, we pick our way around the various sections, some quite wild “and still to be replanted and structured more”. It’s quite lovely in its present unstructured state, pumpkins lolling here, lemongrass and cucumbers and peas competing with each other there.
Adriaan keeps mentioning John du Raan, who is the owner of this property, Karoo, and in charge of what and how things grow. Something of a philosophical scientist and social engineer, he also has a farm in the real Great Karoo, near Prieska, whence comes Fermier’s lamb.
John, who’s keen on the community aspect of the farm and strict about wasting nothing, later tells me that Adriaan gives him his
restaurant wish list for the planting of vegetables, herbs and fruit, and “we comply as much as possible”. The aquaculture system supplies a lot as well.
There are plenty of fruit and nut trees, and the “other side” is given over to a successful aquaponics programme. Tilapia are the fish part of the system and Adriaan uses them mainly for sauces, snacks and bouillabaisse, preferring to get tastier fish from his own fisherman on the coast twice a week for the fish on his restaurant plates.
More produce is grown here than Fermier can use, but there’s another restaurant, Karoo Café, on the property, serving breakfast and lunch dishes. Then there’s a kind of informal co-op programme within the larger Lynnwood area for supplying what surplus the farm has.
Our first dish is crayfish and dombolo, served separately. The former is wound with cucumber and wasabi leaf paste, and the dombolo is filled with a sweet pepper gel that bursts blissfully on the tongue.
The next dish is also in two bits: Adriaan’s cauliflower with truffle, bone marrow and raisins. A small vetkoek encloses a confit of the marrow and rosemary. I think I can identify, from the farm walk, the little white flowers as being wasabi blossom.
Then follow fresh breads – a teeny baguette and two different sourdoughs – with Adriaan’s intensely tasty duck parfait, served with a herby, nutty dukkah.
The music in the restaurant is low, the tables specially far apart, so there’s a deep feeling of peace and expectation about. And
the kitchen is quiet; Adriaan and his two chefs don’t seem to say a word to each other.
The fourth dish is kingklip with dusky and wild-tasting porcini, peas and a goat’s cheese sauce. When I exclaim over the fifth dish, veal that features lightly pickled veal sweetbread and some veal flesh with musky black garlic, onion and creamed cashew with parsley, Adriaan says he sometimes doesn’t tell guests until they’ve finished that they had sweetbread because there are so many unadventurous eaters.
As I proceed with the sixth course of Karoo lamb, I revere the fat, in this case from the rib piece as there’s also an inherently herby loin piece on the plate. The tenderly treated fat provides that nostalgic taste of wonderful lamb that one yearns for. I should also be praising the asparagus that tastes so real and full, along with a thick puree of more asparagus, as well as a couple of pearls of caviar and hazelnut on the plate.
There’s a “pre-dessert” of lychee and chardonnay mousse and compote, with a brandy and yoghurt sorbet. The dessert itself is splendid, featuring a rooibos and vanilla crémeux with white chocolate and fabulous rhubarb under a nutty tuile halo.
Finally, a friandise of choux pastries with coconut ice, black chocolate and cream comes along on a coffee bean bed as a good hint. For once I ignore the hint. Even coffee cannot increase my pleasure from this evening.