Last week I went to the new restaurant Ombra twice, and loved it. Twice. Meanwhile, a couple of weeks ago, I spent my lunch break reading Polpo: A Venetian Cookbook of Sorts by Russell Norman and found myself wanting to make and eat everything immediately (besides loving the cover and craftsmanship of the book itself). In fact, I've just ordered it online. The common thread? Venice.
Ombra is Wellington's newest addition to the restaurant scene and the first one to get me really excited in recent months. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of great places to eat in this lovely city but maybe it's because I've lived here for around 7 years now that I've started to get a bit bored and a little miffed by how much it costs to eat mediocre food. However, I do have high standards and it's often really the service that let the whole show down. The most recent additions that have gotten me talking (food-wise) were Prefab, Pickle and Big Bad Wolf, but for Cuba Street, Ombra has lifted it's whole game up.
While the cafe and restaurant scene in Wellington is worthy of it's own post, today is just about Ombra. I went for two successive days of lunch breaks, each with a different set of people, yet the reactions were the same. It was good. The maitre d' explained to us that ombra means "shadow", referring to the time when merchants kept their wine cool by wheeling their carts from one shady spot to another. These days, ombra is slang for a small glass of wine which makes it a shame that we weren't able to enjoy the beverage list (an excuse for another time).
As for the food: the cicheti are what make the bacaro. Small plates, or simply bar snacks, they're similar to Spanish tapas but completely unique to Venice. Typically the cicheti menu consists of dishes like (but not limited to) crostini, arancini, crocchette (croquette) and a version of sardines, but here is only where you warm up. Both days in Ombra, I had baccala crostini which is salt cod whipped into a creamy luscious mousse served over a perfectly crusty slice of bread. A sensational contrast of textures, it was rich but light. The arancini used a tomato-base risotto which I wasn't particularly partial to, but the crisp crumb to it's exterior was exactly that: as it should be.
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| Ombra, corner of Cuba and Vivian Street, Wellington |
Ombra is Wellington's newest addition to the restaurant scene and the first one to get me really excited in recent months. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of great places to eat in this lovely city but maybe it's because I've lived here for around 7 years now that I've started to get a bit bored and a little miffed by how much it costs to eat mediocre food. However, I do have high standards and it's often really the service that let the whole show down. The most recent additions that have gotten me talking (food-wise) were Prefab, Pickle and Big Bad Wolf, but for Cuba Street, Ombra has lifted it's whole game up.
While the cafe and restaurant scene in Wellington is worthy of it's own post, today is just about Ombra. I went for two successive days of lunch breaks, each with a different set of people, yet the reactions were the same. It was good. The maitre d' explained to us that ombra means "shadow", referring to the time when merchants kept their wine cool by wheeling their carts from one shady spot to another. These days, ombra is slang for a small glass of wine which makes it a shame that we weren't able to enjoy the beverage list (an excuse for another time).
As for the food: the cicheti are what make the bacaro. Small plates, or simply bar snacks, they're similar to Spanish tapas but completely unique to Venice. Typically the cicheti menu consists of dishes like (but not limited to) crostini, arancini, crocchette (croquette) and a version of sardines, but here is only where you warm up. Both days in Ombra, I had baccala crostini which is salt cod whipped into a creamy luscious mousse served over a perfectly crusty slice of bread. A sensational contrast of textures, it was rich but light. The arancini used a tomato-base risotto which I wasn't particularly partial to, but the crisp crumb to it's exterior was exactly that: as it should be.
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| Baccala Crostini |
