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• Herald rating: * * * *
Having put up with each other for another year, the Blonde and I were in self-congratulatory mood. I could have sworn I heard her mutter something about a triumph of pigheadedness over good sense, but when I asked her what she'd said, she smiled sweetly and said: "I hope you're taking me somewhere nice for dinner for our anniversary." I was, as it turned out.
The last time I went to eat at this Auckland institution, I couldn't get in. I mean this literally: the door was locked and a sign asked me to ring the bell. It was meant to be charming, but I found it as intimidating as hell. Likewise the menus, which had the prices written in full - so "twenty-six dollars" - in cursive script. I half-expected a line saying "Are you quite sure you are supposed to be here?"
The best fine-dining restaurants make the customer feel at home and in those days Number 5 seemed to make a point of not doing so. But, several changes of ownership later, they have nailed it. They boast a distinguished list of former guests, including Princess Anne and Burt Bacharach, but they make us simple folks feel very welcome too.
Owner Martina Lutz used to have Merlot and still has the Wine Chambers in Shortland St and the excellent, unpretentious bistro Wine and Roses in Takapuna. As the names suggest, these are places that regard eating partly as an excuse to drink good wine. At Number 5 they are true to that philosophy, offering an excellent list and a couple of daily "sommelier's surprises" - something special, that is not ordinarily offered by the glass.
The restaurant occupies a handsome brick house that was once home to the manager at Partington's Mill, which dominates the skyline in so many Victorian-era photographs. The room divisions give it an intimate feel, but there are fine views, of both the city valley and the cramped domestic lives in nearby apartments.
The Blonde caught me idly watching a young woman getting dressed in her uncurtained room and observed - more forcefully than was strictly necessary, I thought - that this was a) behaviour ill-befitting a devoted husband on his wedding anniversary and b) pathetic.
The waitress, who did a fine job of keeping the open fire burning merrily, was relaxed and good-humoured, advising that "we do take the feathers off" the duck, and offering us a generous taste of the evening's feature wine, a delicate but slightly spicy 2007 Clayridge pinot blanc. (It worked: we ordered a full pour.)
As to the food, it worked a treat, too. Head chef Michael Greenbaum and his team turn out dishes that are skilful but unshowy, and still make a hearty meal on a dastardly winter's night. We shared an entree plate - three of the four choices - and were most impressed by the loose-leafed butternut tortellini and a juicy rabbit-and-prune terrine.
I then went for the duck which, steamed and then roasted, was magnificently crisp and unfatty. The Blonde's salmon was as soft as cream.
The sole jarring note was the speed with which dessert was offered - and immediately offered again by someone else.
We finally chose a plum tart that we had been told would be warm: it wasn't, and neither was it particularly impressive. But this was a small blemish in an excellent evening. This is fine dining without airs and graces, and that's increasingly hard to find.
Your spirits are immediately lifted by the light of dozens of candles bouncing off the glassware, the sight of two open fires burning. There are thrree rooms downstairs which are connected by French doors and another upstairs (which is usually reserved for private functions), all furnished in a wonderfully old fashioned way. Each room contains only three or four tables, so you feel like you've sat down in someones dining room, in a public space and yet somehow sheltered from intrusion. Partly this is thanks to the fact that there's a resonable space between tables and partly thanks to the carpet, the virtues of which - such as absorbing the sounds of your neighbour and protecting them from yours - are too often forgotten.
The wine list is terrific, goes on forever, and includes a smaller but equally considered selection of wines by the glass. I went for an Isabel Estate Marlborough Pinot Noir for $16 which was made more delicious by being delivered in a glass that was as fat as a balloon with a rim fine as gossamer. Each serving is a quarter of a bottle.
The menu is small and, in the case of the mains, meaty. On the first occasion my friend ordered the kumara encrusted king prawns as an entree, and two fat blighters arrived loitering in a pool of mango salsa. Unfortunately I ordered the rocket and feta salad, imagining something special, but got some ordinary leafy salad mix surrounded by a few sugared walnut halves and some miserable bits of feta. Still, that was made up for by the duck main (pictured), which was constituted of both leg and breast, crispy on the outside, tender on the in, and perched on top of a delicate kumara gratin.
My friend had venison, which was so delicious she was still banging on about it a week later.
On the second visit there was whitebait fritter on the menu. I refrained, leaving space for dessert, but my companion (who had been poised to order the venison carpaccio) leapt at it. The fritter was fat, and he was happy, but wondered if the whitebait was overwhelmed by the fritter's egginess.
I had the blue cod for main, which was fresh, and delicately flavoured with basil pesto and came on a caper mash. But I sort of wished I'd had the lamb fillet which came with a small but tasty portion of sauteed spuds and oven dried tomatoes because, having gobbled a fair share of my friend's, I would say it was one of the tenderest loins in the city.
I suspect Number 5's particular strength rests with meat. But they also excel at desserts ($14). Try the creme brulee, which came with fresh mango ice cream and a couple of biscotti. Or the delicately flavoured lime and honey pannacotta, which comes with honey-glazed figs.
I don't recall them restoking the fires after we arrived, and the flames were allowed to dwindle as the evening wore on. But this was our only gripe, and if you have around $160 to fork out on a meal for two and presuming you are carnivorous, I'd thoroughly recommend the place, for its overall class, for all the pretty lights.
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