About Gehan

http://martinimandate.wordpress.com

Gehan writes about martinis and drinks them at every opportunity. To clear his head afterwards he runs marathons.

Posts by Gehan

Martinis, Marathons and Getting Gingered Up

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"The Most Beautiful Marathon in the World"

“The World’s Most Beautiful Marathon”

“To believe this story you must believe that the human race be one joyous family, working together, laughing together, achieving the impossible. Last Sunday, in one of the most trouble-stricken cities in the world, 11,532 men and women from 40 countries in the world, assisted by over a million black, white and yellow people, laughed, cheered and suffered during the greatest folk festival the world has seen”

Olympic champion Chris Brasher wrote these words after running the New York City marathon in 1979.  He went on to found the London Marathon, the biggest marathon in the world.

Endurance runners are a bunch of weirdos who volunteer to undergo serious pain for hours.  I’m one of them.  I figure it’s a sort of karmic suffering, to offset the martinis I drink every evening. Once an oddity, marathons are now a cause for city-wide celebrations wherever they are held.  The outrage caused by the attack on the Boston marathon was felt not just by Bostonians and Americans but by runners around the world.

Thoughts of outrage were far from my mind as I lined up with 10,000 other pain junkies on a chilly morning in Cape Town.  We were running the Two Ocean’s Ultra Marathon – a gorgeous 35 mile (56k) trot from the Indian Ocean to the Atlantic. The race covers a hilly coastal route which snakes around the Cape of Good Hope. It is arguably one of the most beautiful races in the world and has long been on my bucket list.  My support team included mum, sis, brother in law, 5 year old nephew and a group of friends including an African Queen, a party hostess with a van (great for lying down in after the race) and Voldemort, the German masseuse.

Marathoners in Africa face unique challenges.  Last year a runner was hurt by rock throwing baboons.  The South Africans are a tough lot.  While most of them run in takkies (South African slang for sneakers or trainers), I came across a bunch of barefoot runners.  They weren’t some hunter gatherer types from the bush either, but slightly overweight middle class white people…

Runners greet pain like an old friend.  We wait for him to cross the road, meeting him halfway.  He runs alongside us, sometimes in the background, but always there.  He mocks us as our legs start cramping.  Six hours later I beat him and went out for a martini.

Il Leone Mastrantonio

Il Leone Mastrantonio

Pre race I focused on carb loading. After the race, my mind was on martinis.  For carb loading I visited two stand-out Italian restaurants in Cape Town –  Societi Bistro and Il Leone Mastrantonio.  Of the two Societi is a lighter, more modern interpretation of Italian cuisine, while Il Leone is more traditional. Off Orange Street in the Gardens district the Societi Bistro has a simple yet modern Italian menu with an emphasis on fresh ingredients.  The homemade spaghetti with truffle oil was delicious as was a simple salad of roasted figs and fior di latte (fresh buffalo mozzarella).

Il Leone Mastrantonio is in the district known as De Waterkant (say it with a straight face).  Il Leone is the grande dame of Italian restaurants in Cape Town.  It is pretty straightforward Italian fare served in a traditional, smartish, yet family friendly atmosphere.  The home made ravioli and rib of beef was the perfect pre race dinner.

Gorgeous red lacquered bar at Tjing Tjing

Gorgeous red lacquered bar at Tjing Tjing

The Cape Town Jazz festival kicked off after the ultra marathon and I hung out for some cool tunes and cocktails at the rooftop bar at Tjing Tjing on Longmarket Street.  Longmarket is a street favoured by students; lined with bars, backpacker hotels and massage parlours.  Three floors above street level, Tjing Tjing is an Asian inspired rooftop oasis, with inventive cocktails made from behind a shiny red lacquered bar.

Ginger is the new sexy ingredient in cocktails.  The term “gingering up” (or sexing up) came from the old gypsy habit of inserting ginger up a horse’s arse to make it appear frisky and alert while being inspected for sale.  The Ginger Ninja at the Tjing Tjing bar had vodka, grenadine, pineapple juice, bitters, ginger and lime.  The pineapple added sweetness, but the kick came from the ginger, offset by orangey grenadine flavours. There was no horsing about here – this is a nicely made drink.

The Jelly Baby was made with vanilla vodka, Cointreau, pomegranate juice, lemon juice and yes, jelly babies.  There was a candy like sweetness to the drink, offset by the tartness of the lemon juice.  It is an improbable sounding drink, but it grows on you.  If you are a girl.

Stunning Presentation of a Ginseng and Ginger Martini at the Pot Luck Club

Stunning Presentation of a Ginger & Ginseng Martini at the Pot Luck Club

The highlight of my culinary and cocktail tour of Cape Town was the Pot Luck Club at the Old Biscuit Mill in the Woodstock district.  Built at the top of a grain silo that serviced the former biscuit mill, the Pot Luck Club is a superb Asian fusion restaurant with stunning views.  There was more ginger in the cocktails here.  I had a Sake Cocktail with ginger, lemon grass and passion fruit.  This was a very successful blending of flavours, with the lemon grass and passion fruit combining to add a hint of bitterness, while the ginger left a nice after burn in the throat.

The Ginger & Ginseng martini is a stunning looking cocktail, the liquid made cloudy with ginger, served in an antique goblet with a  garnish of preserved ginger.  The ginger overwhelmed the ginseng however, making for a spicy cocktail lacking in complexity.

Sake, Campari, Watermelon.

Sake Compressed Watermelon with Blood Orange Sorbet and Bitter Campari Jellies at the Pot Luck Club

The big hit of the night was an alcoholic dessert.  Watermelon is infused with sake and then compressed until it turns jelly-like in consistency.  It is accompanied by blood orange sorbet and bitter Campari jellies.  This is a bitter dessert that looks a bit like a living thing and tastes divine.

South Africa is home to several great road races.  Apart from the Two Ocean’s there is the Comrade’s 56 mile (90k) race between Durban and Pietermaritzburg.  This is the world’s oldest and largest ultramarathon race.  I politely declined the offer to run in place of a friend in this year’s race.  Perhaps next year…

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A big thank you to Kensington Place, my favourite boutique hotel in Cape Town.  Austen Johnson and his team took care of all my marathon prep including a cooked breakfast delivered to my room at 3am, plus carb snacks for the race.  Meeting points for my support crew were carefully mapped out and taxis arranged.  It is a hotel I go back to often!

Margaret Thatcher and the Sewer Ditch

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Cold War Warriors. Perfect Hair.

Cold War Warriors. Perfect Hair.

While my preferred martini is made with vodka, I mixed a gin martini and raised a glass in memory of Margaret Thatcher last week.  She and her late husband Denis were fond of the stuff. Once confronted by the press about whether he had a drinking problem, Denis famously responded, “yes, I have a problem, there never seems to be enough of the stuff!”

When the time comes to meet my maker I’d like to meet him at my suite at the Ritz, as Margaret Thatcher did. The history of the Ritz Hotel, from a bankrupt shell sold for just £2.75 million (About US$ 4.2m) in 1975, to its grandeur today is in some ways a reflection of the country pre and post Thatcher. In the 1970’s Britain was the “sick man of Europe,” on life support from the IMF and reduced to three days of electricity a week. Maggie kept the lights on and they have shone ever brighter.

A conviction politician, Thatcher was divisive. Most great leaders are. Apparently people who had well paid union jobs in failing industries supported by public money have never forgiven her for putting them out of work. I don’t know where they live, but I’m told that it’s far away from London and that they are now planning to secede or something.

With Ronald Reagan, she was in the frontline of a movement that defeated communism and forever consigned socialism to the dustbin of history. The only left wing governments left in the world today are a smattering of irrelevant banana republics and France, which is on a fast boat to irrelevancy. France does have good wine and beautiful women, so we’ll go in and rescue them as we do every so often.  A few months ago my local betting shop was offering odds on which remaining left wing dictator would last longer – Chavez or Castro. Castro won, but gets no cigar.

Upstairs at the Rotary Bar & Diner. Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what's for lunch.

Upstairs at the Rotary Bar & Diner. Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what’s for lunch.

While Britain wrestles with how to recognize Thatcher (a bunch of left wing vegan types still can’t forgive her for getting it right), people like me realise that we only moved here from the US because of the Britain she created. I was having a liquid lunch with Lois Lane, the tallest woman in aviation and another US transplant. We were in Shoreditch, the former wasteland of Soersditch (literally Sewer Ditch) a once shitty part of town now ascendant thanks to the impact of the City of London (a once fading colonial financial hub re-imagined as a global powerhouse by Thatcher) and Silicon Roundabout, a high tech magnet for entrepreneurs (who flourished once the government reduced taxes and got out of the way). Shoreditch is now hipster central, aflood with creative types and techno uber geeks who are the latter day Supermen.

Good loooking drinks. The Adonis and

Good loooking drinks. The Adonis and the Devil behind

The Rotary Bar and Diner and the member’s only Rotary Room is technically a “pop up” operating under a ten month license. Brought to you by the folks from Milk & Honey it is one of the most lavish temporary establishments I’ve seen. Upstairs is a casual bar and diner with sharing tables. Accessed through an insalubrious outside stairwell, the Rotary Room downstairs is all 1970s low lit glamour replete with a tin ceiling, formica tables, and cozy booths. Lois Lane was instantly at home commenting that the décor reminded her of a cross between a Playboy bachelor pad circa 1970 and the living room of the Brady Bunch. There’s a straightforward food menu, divided into pig, fish and beef. There’s nothing for the vegetarians though pigs, fish and cattle are usually vegetarian. The main event here though are the cocktails, which are Latin American influenced. There’s even a decent selection of single village Mezcal.

The louche lounge decor in the Rotary Room

Louche decor in the Rotary Room

As with other establishments in the Milk & Honey franchise, the cocktails are well balanced and tasty. The El Diablo is a long drink made with tequila, cassis, ginger and lime. Instead of using commercial ginger beer, the bartender sends ginger through a centrifuge. The resulting drink packs a serious ginger punch with additional ginger oils adding a sparkle.

The Adonis cocktail is made with dry sherry, red vermouth and orange bitters. Created in 1886 to celebrate the success of a Broadway show, it is surprisingly dry and aromatic. The dry, nutty flavour of the sherry, the fullness in the mouth of the Martini & Rossi red vermouth and a slightly bitter aftertaste makes it a perfect aperitif.

We had a good value Chilean un-oaked Chardonnay. I could have stayed with Lois and drunk cocktails all afternoon, but had a plane to catch and a marathon to run.

Lois you are great all on your own

Cocktails with Lois – another Iron Lady, albeit one with a soft spot for men in coloured underclothes

Many of today’s hipsters weren’t born when Thatcher was in her handbag-wielding prime. However, they are old enough to drink. I will be with some of them on Wednesday and we shall raise a glass together. Rest in Peace.

To Boston. With Love.

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115th Boston Marathon

I remember when I qualified for the Boston Marathon
JJ paced me on a bicycle through the streets of Paris
I qualified for Boston. Just. We drank champagne to celebrate
In Boston I stayed with Eric & Kathy. Old friends
I remember the start of the Boston marathon
I remember the lone policeman who sang the national anthem acapella
He survived 9/11
We had our own journeys ahead of us
We held hands. We were one. We are one
We ran with each other. We ran with joy
You can’t destroy us
Leave us alone

RIP

Escaping the Winter

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The temperature is barely above freezing in London and New York. In Cape Town the sky is a brilliant blue and the temperature is a balmy 25 degrees Celsius (77 Fahrenheit). The Cape Town Jazz Festival is kicking off and post jazz cocktails at the rooftop Tjing Tjing bar are delectable. I had to run a marathon last weekend to justify coming here, but it’s been worth it. Come!

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Warm nights, cool jazz.

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Rooftop bartenders at work behind the red lacquer bar at Tjing Tjing.

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Ginger Ninja (vodka, grenadine, pineapple juice, ginger and lime) and an Old Fashioned cocktail at the Tjing Tjing Bar.

Death becomes Chavez

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Death was a smart career move for Hugo Chavez. The problem for most dictators, even “democratically elected” ones, is not knowing when to go. So like Mugabe, Castro, Gaddafi, Assad and others, they overstay their welcome and become villains. Chavez on the other hand had the good sense to leave before the whole thing blew up in his face. Like Elvis he will be remembered fondly. Give it some time and he’ll probably grow sideburns and be sighted at a Burger King with Elvis. Viva la revolucion!
A little less conversation, a little more action. A little more wine, a little less talk?

A little less conversation, a little more action. A little more wine, a little less talk?

I figured I should celebrate the life of Chavez at a Venezuelan restaurant in London, but couldn’t find one. There is apparently one in some place called Crystal Palace, but I don’t know where that is. It’s probably not safe to go there. So I looked for other dictator food in London. The problem I discovered, is that modern dictatorships are pretty barren places for foodies.

Most nasties rule over oil rich kingdoms whose food seems to consist of some variant of ground chick peas and kebabs. Booze is usually banned and the water is imported. It’s a cuisine best left to impecunious college students. Another hotspot for dictators is Africa. I don’t get the point of becoming an African dictator – the countries are mostly dirt poor to begin with, so where’s the fun in becoming overlord? I didn’t feel like eating UN food rations either, so decided to keep looking for better dictator cuisine.

Spain is a late comer to democracy having being a dictatorship till 1975. Generalissimo Franco was properly nasty, although he did make the trains run on time which is a very hard thing to do in Southern Europe. Spain has good food and wine and was once Venezuela’s colonial master – it was an appropriate choice of cuisine with which to commemorate Comrade Hugo.  I joined Mini Me and the Irish Cyclist at Camino Cruz del Rey (literally the path to the cross of the king) in the Regent’s Quarter, in King’s Cross.  It’s not the most promising part of town to look for food and wine, but Camino and Bar Pepito, it’s sibling sherry bar across a courtyard, are a unique find.

The bar at Camino Cruz de Rey

The bar at Camino Cruz de Rey

This is a sprawling restaurant encompassing two decent sized rooms, the tiny sherry bar across the courtyard and lots of outdoor tables connecting the two.  In the main restaurant we sat under a glass dome in a casual light filled room with rough wooden tables, leather banquettes, a zinc topped bar with low stools and plain grey flooring punctuated with splashes of colour from traditional Moorish tiles.

Bar Pepito serves fifteen different sherries from a changing menu – all available by the glass.  The sherry here is a far cry from the ghastly tipple your incontinent aunt got pissed on.  This is the good stuff ranging from  fino, which is dry, crisp and pale; manzanilla, briny with a sharpness that hits you in the back of the throat; to darker richer styles like the Oloroso “antique” Fernando de Castilla which is incredible value at £7 (US $10) for a glass of 20 year old wine.

We ordered several rounds of dry sherry which is perfect as an aperitif, cleansing the palate and awakening the taste buds.  The more compex, sweeter styles are perfect with a cigar after the meal.  Camino has a good range of Spanish wines available by the  glass, carafe and bottle.  The serving sizes are well adapted to tapas and sharing, allowing the table to match the wine to the food and to personal preference.  We had the Artesa Tinto Organica 2010, an organic rioja/tempranillo which was easy drinking with characteristic ripe plum and cherry flavours.

Tapas is the food order of the day here.  We tasted a range encompassing chorizo, black pudding, padrone peppers (mild, deep fried peppers in salt – a personal favourite),  tortilla, squid ink flavoured black rice and deep fried baby squid.  This is not haute cuisine – it is simple, rustic fare and Camino does it well.  We had wonderful service from our Argentinian waitress, including an in depth explanation of why she had the words “just take a deep breath” tatooed on her bosom.  If you must get a tattoo, pick a phrase in a language you have a decent handle on…

Over more sherry we pondered whether we knew of any teetotallers we liked.  Hugo Chavez was a teetotaller.  By definition teetotallers are humourless individuals who get upset when other people are having a good time.   We raised a glass to good times.   Joder la revolucion!

A Little More Satisfactioning

There are a surprising number of dictators out there.  Here’s a list.  Their food isn’t always bad but you do have to pick your way carefully.  Here’s a selection of London’s best dictator cuisine:

China – Visiting Chinese friends claim that Barshu has the best Sichuan cooking in London.  The spices will leave you deliriously numb.  The dim sum at Royal China regularly features amongst the best Chinese meals in London.  For authentic Cantonese barbecued duck, served by authentic rude Cantonese waiters, go to Fours Seasons on Queensway.  Take away is recommended.

Cuba - Floridita.  Florida is where all the good Cubans live.  Floridita is a celebration of the place that was Cuba.  Live music and good food slightly spoiled by the bridge and tunnel clientele.  Check out the Garden Room at the Lanesborough Hotel for a good selection of pre-Castro cigars.

Iran - Alounak (Bayswater and Olympia).  My Iranian friends rave about this inexpensive BYOB restaurant.  The ovens (which appear to burn the restaurants down at regular intervals) churn out wonderful breads and grilled meats.

Russia – Novikov.  Okay it’s actually Italian and Asian cuisine but it’s run by Russians and you have to be an oligarch to afford to eat here.

Vietnam – Vietnamese cuisine is much more than pho (beef soup) and Cay Tre Soho teases out the subtle nuances.

For more reviews of Camino Cruz del Rey check out Rate My Bistro and London Chow.  Not everyone likes Camino and the reviews at Trip Advisor document some pretty bad experiences.  I’d go back.

Camino on Urbanspoon

Square Meal

This one is for Nobu

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Reblogged from Martini Mandate:

Click to visit the original post

Last year around this time I was traveling on a train from downtown Tokyo to Narita airport.  I had based myself in Hong Kong and had travelled to Tokyo on an overnight business visit.   Suddenly the train started bucking on the tracks and swayed alarmingly at a corner, threatening to derail.  We slowed to a complete stop.  The now stationary train continued to sway from side to side. 

Read more… 765 more words

It's been two years since the devastating earthquake and tsunami in Japan. This blog about my first hand experience appeared last year on Martini Mandate. I am reposting it with respect and in remembrance.

The Dry Martini Song

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A little over a year ago I set out on a quest to find the world’s best martini. It was actually an excuse to go drinking around the world and to tell all my friends about it.  Surprisingly, many of you actually appear to read this blog.  A subsidiary benefit has been the invitations to go drinking with you in search of an epic “Martini Mandate evening”.  I thank you for your support!

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I also discovered that a parent exercising his creative juices in public is deeply embarrassing to one’s offspring.  When the parent decides to pick up a guitar and make music it becomes a truly cringeworthy exercise.  It had to be done!

So here it is, The Dry Martini Song - an anthem to drinking martinis, a lament about poorly made martinis. It is a song that will make you want to pour another drink, if only in the hope of blocking it from your memory forever.

“It’s a banker’s drink.  They deserve this song”  The Guardian

“She should have poured that martini on his head!”  The Bartender’s Union

“It has good advice on mixing a dry martini.  The rest of the song is rubbish”  Rolling Stone

“Phoar! Follow the instructions on mixing a martini, turn up the volume and she’s yours! Killer!”  Loaded

“We wish he hadn’t done it”  My Children

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Click on the link to hear  The Dry Martini Song.   Thank you for listening!

Sunshine in a glass

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I found this lovely young woman selling gin and tonics off the back of an old bicycle. I took this picture at the old biscuit mill market in the Woodstock part of Cape Town, South Africa. I’m sure she doesn’t have a license to sell booze, but it is Africa and she’s cute so who cares!

The old biscuit mill is open all week selling clothing, food and drink, but the Saturday market is special, hosting a wide array of local food and drink vendors. If you visit, do eat at the Test Kitchen restaurant where I had one of the best meals in recent memory. You must also try the coffee at Origins and a cupcake from Helen Melon. Oh, and don’t forget a gin and tonic from the bicycle girl!

The Lion, the Witch, and the Drinks They Found in a Wardrobe

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Poverty fascinates the middle classes. Writers and artists seek to interpret and chronicle it. Liberals ritualise it to connect with their inner bleeding heartedness. Legions of cute young things would have nothing to do if NGOs didn’t exist to save the wretched from themselves (and their governments).

Poverty and the slums of Victorian England have a peculiar fascination, both as a sociological commentary on the industrial revolution and for their particularly rich literary chronicling by Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Arthur Conan Doyle and others. In London where the winds blow predominantly from the west, the factories were located in the poor east end. Today, the eastern parts of London remain ghastly, although fashionable amongst the young who don’t know any better, and starving artists who can’t afford any better. It’s not a bad place to find a drink, because most people who live there need one.

Stylish Pantone Card Drinks List. Each QR codesconnects to a YouTube clip describing the drink

Stylish Pantone Card Drinks List at Callooh Callay. Each QR code connects to a YouTube clip describing the drink.

I wandered through the streets of East London recently in the gathering gloom, searching for a bar named Callooh Callay. A couple of older queens leered at me, looking like a pair of pedarastic Anglican bishops who’d been locked up in a distillery all night. I was glad to locate my drinking companion the Zebra Striped Gourmand, a man who makes his own bitters and butchers his own meat.   A handy friend to have if you ever need to dismember someone and dissolve them in alcohol…

Callooh Callay is an exclamation of joy from Lewis Carroll’s nonsensical rhyme Jabberwocky. Literature and intoxicants are well known bedfellows. Earnest Hemingway and Ian Fleming were mostly sozzled or pleasantly on their way there when they wrote their best works. Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland is a delightfully lucid acid trip.

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At Callooh Callay one steps into a dark room decorated with lunatic flair.  There are gramophones in the window bays, wacky lampshades and a large antique wardrobe in the back of the room.  The toilets are lined with cassette tapes.  The crowd is uber-hip, full of the aforementioned artists and young people who inhabit the neighborhood.  I ordered the Ale of Two Cities, a drink consisting of feijova vodka (feijova is also called pineapple guava and tastes like a combination of the two), Punt e Mes (a brownish Italian vermouth with a bitter flavor), fresh lime and apple juices, Angostura bitters and malt syrup (made from malted barley).  That’s a lot going on in a glass.  It is served in a beer mug and bizarrely tastes like ale with honey and lime tasting notes.  It’s a pleasant drink – the ale illusion even leaves a bit of creamy head on your upper lip.

For our next drink we stepped through the wardrobe at the end of the room.  Yes, this is the bar’s big party trick. On the other side was not the land of Narnia but another bar with even more bonkers décor.  Two bathtubs converted into sofas face each other.  A giant overstuffed candy striped armchair sits under a metal palm tree.  One expects the Mad Hatter to be holding court.  We ordered a round of Peresphone, a cocktail made of tequila, Punt e Mes and Mozart black chocolate liqueur.  Named after the wife of Hades this is a drink that has sweet lavender and vanilla notes with a wicked chilli kick at the the end.

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There is a third room, the member’s only Jub Jub bar which hosts a different bartender each week and seats just ten.  The Zebra Striped Gourmand is naturally a member.  Calooh Calay has a reputation for superb cocktails and a truly exemplary collection of alcohol.  We tasted some superb rums including a Santa Teresa (Venezuelan, rich and complex) and a 12 year old Eldorado (Guyanian demerrera rum with rich molasses flavours).  These are fine rums to be drunk neat or on the rocks.  There is a food menu to soak up the alcohol.  The fare is straightforward (burgers, fish cakes, hot dogs), but tasty.

If you fancy a walk on the wild side, visit Callooh Callay.  The literary pretensions may put some people off, but the drinks will have you galumphing back, chortling in joy!

Calloh Callay on Urbanspoon

Square Meal

Go Ask Alice

A place like Callooh Callay lends itself to blogging.  The  Cocktail Geek covers the Jub Jub bar in more detail.  If you are moved to read Lewis Carroll’s poem Jabberwocky you’ll find it here.  Jefferson Airplane’s psychedelic 1967 anthem White Rabbit celebrates Lewis Carroll with the lyric “When the men on the chessboard get up / And tell you where to go / And you’ve just had some kind of mushroom / And your mind is moving low / Go ask Alice, I think she’ll know.”  There’s a beautifully atmospheric video clip of them performing here featuring Grace Slick in her contralto prime.

Vodka Infused Kitty

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Muscle wrapped in metal. There isn't a single bad angle to the Shelby Cobra

Muscle wrapped in metal. There isn’t a single bad angle to the Shelby Cobra

I used to worry about the environment until I realised that switching to long life lightbulbs was pointless as long as nations kept dropping uranium out of the sky.  If I must leave a large carbon footprint I vowed to have fun doing so.  Laying down long tracks of burnt rubber on asphalt is fun.  Doing so in an iconic Shelby Cobra along one of the world’s most spectacular driving roads, Chapman’s Peak Drive in South Africa, is automotive nirvana.

Chapman’s Peak Drive is a toll road from Hout Bay to Noordhoek on the way to the Cape of Good Hope.  It consists of nine kilometres and 114 curves hugging the near vertical face of the mountain.  I had spectacular views of the Atlantic on my right as the bellow of 5 litres of pure V8 power echoed off the mountain face.  The massive tyres screamed in protest and scrambled for grip as I hung on to the steering for dear life, my face split by a huge grin!

Chapman's Peak Drive. Perhaps the most beautiful marine drive in the world.

Chapman’s Peak Drive. Perhaps the most beautiful marine drive in the world.

The Shelby Cobra was the brainchild of American racing driver Carroll Shelby who bolted on a powerful American Ford engine to the pretty but underpowered British AC Ace sports car in 1962.  This fine example of Anglo American cooperation resulted in one of the most beautiful cars ever built.  Original cars now cost upwards of $500,000 (£315,000) but Shelby subsequently licensed production to several manufacturers, including Superformance Cars of South Africa who continue building Cobras.

Dean at Cape Cobra Hire is a friendly Brit who used to work on Eddie Jordan’s Formula One race team.  He described the car as “a four wheel Harley Davidson”.  He’s right.  You carefully step over side mounted exhausts to enter the car (you’ll burn if you touch them).  Stick your arm out the door and you can feel the heat rising from the exhausts.  The horn on my car was broken but it didn’t matter.  Small children cry and dog’s run away when they hear the car’s basso rumble.   There is no roof.  When it rains you get wet.  Who cares when you are having this much fun.

On the way to Chapman’s Peak I pulled over for coffee at The Grand on the strip in Camp’s Bay where Capetonians come to play.  The verandah is the perfect place to watch the beautiful people.  The Grand has a single uber decadent bedroom with 24 hour butler service and what it claims is the world’s largest mini bar. Parking touts eagerly waved the Cobra in.  Despite its muscular stance the Cobra is suprisingly easy to thread through traffic, being far narrower than most modern sports cars.  It also helps that you can clearly see all four corners of the car from the driver’s seat.  It’s practical then for city use…

Chef Franck Dangereaux's philosophy

Chef Franck Dangereaux’s philosophy

At the behest of my running buddy and neighbour in London I stopped for lunch at the Food Barn in Noerdhook.  This modest thatched roofed restaurant set in what was once a farm store, is the most talked about bistro in Capetown.  Cannes born chef Franck Dangereux creates a fusion of Provencal, Moroccan, Middle Eastern and Pan Asian elements – yet sources all his ingredients locally.  Dangereux trained at Moulin de Mougins in Cannes with Roger Verge.  Alain Ducasse also once trained there.  Dangereux worked at two 3 Michelin starred restaurants in Paris before eventually moving to Cape Town.

The food at his restaurant is quintessential haute cuisine, served in the most laid back environment.  The prawn beignets and cheese fritter with tomato macaroon was a mash up of flavours at once familiar but foreign in their combination.  I’d never eaten a tomato macaroon and wouldn’t have believed it would taste anything but strange.  It was delightful.  As was the waitress, who thoughtfully gifted me a box of the said macaroons as I was leaving.  The deconstructed bouillabaisse with local line fish, calamari and prawns, served with a rouille sauce and cheese croutons was sinfully rich.  The cheese croutons added just a hint of crunchy sharpness.

Franck's food. Prawn beignets and cheese fritter with tomato macaroon at the Food Barn

Franck’s food. Prawn beignets and cheese fritter with tomato macaroon at the Food Barn

Dangereaux pairs all his dishes with local wines.  If like me you’ve tired of run of the mill, highly acidic Sauvignon Blancs (the equivalent of paying rent on a bar stool these days), try the South Africans.  Porcupine Ridge, Buitenverwachting, Iona Sophie Terblanche, Robertson and Jordan all make superb Sauvignon Blancs full of that pungent, grassy, leafy aroma, with the quintessential acidity of the grape offset by a soft finish in the mouth.  Majestic Wine has a good selection of South African wines in London while Astor Wines and Spirits is the place to go in New York City.

After a punishing day of hard driving on heart stoppingly beautiful roads, I met the race car driving oenophile in Cape Town for a casual dinner at HQ.  HQ is located in Heritage Square (circa 1771).  In keeping with the global trend towards single food menus HQ serves steak and nothing else, apart from salad and chips.  This is a popular casual restaurant with a nice buzzy vibe.  With so few options on the menu the waiter still managed to mix up our order (with or without gravy can’t be that hard to remember) when he wasn’t forgetting about us altogether.  I’ve had way better chips in places that don’t claim to specialise in them.  Someone please introduce these guys to double and triple cooked chips.  The food and service was erratic.

The saving grace of HQ is the cocktail list.  It’s original and eclectic.  The Spider Bite; jalapeño infused vodka, gomme and fresh lime was spicy and seriously hot. It was served in a martini glass with salt on the rim.  The VIP (Vodka Infused Pussy) was a cocktail of citron vodka muddled with lots of limes, cucumber and mint, charged with Pussy.  The refreshing citrus notes were reminiscent of a caipirinha.

Can this drink make it without word play?

Can this brand make it without word play?

So what’s with the Pussy? Pussy is a British made all-natural energy drink.  It’s citrus tasting although some might find it somewhat tasteless.  Its tagline is “the drink is pure, it’s your mind that’s the problem.” I’m not sure the world really needs another energy drink.

More Ways to Go

If two wheels is more your thing, down the road from Cape Cobra Hire on Buintengraght is Royal Enfield Cape Town where you can rent an authentic Indian made bone shaker.  There are more environmentally friendly ways to travel the Chapman’s Peak Drive.  Bike it as part of the Cape Argus Classic 110K (62 mile) bike race or run it at the Two Ocean’s Ultra Marathon,  a 56k (35 miles) trot from the Indian Ocean to the Atlantic.