One must sometimes be a little shellfish.

Certain research suggests that the animal we are, Homo Sapiens, originated upon the Southern Coast of South Africa. Certain other research suggests that this life and resultant bloom of humanity was supported by the steady diet of abundant seafood and shellfish in the rockpools and inlets.
And my personal field research suggests that all these hundreds of thousands of years later, the dietary habits of those still living amongst or visiting the beautiful beaches and hiking trails of that very same coastline, now known as the Garden Route, have not changed very much.

The list swims East, from the town of Plettenberg Bay, to West, in the city of George.
If you are not a fan of fish (as seafood is divisive,) myriad other options are available on the menus.

 

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Enrico’s, as it is called by its many proud patrons, is located on a rocky point in the small seaside village of Keurboomstrand (12 minutes from Plettenberg bay,) and specialises in Italian cuisine and fresh fish, all backlit by the full westward swoop and sunset of the beautiful bay it inhabits.

The restaurant is led by the eponymous Enrico, whose saying ‘la vita è bella’ has come to embody the food and the atmosphere produced here.

On the menu is kingklip, calamari, sole, and linefish. I recommend the ‘Fish Enrico’, a chosen linefish (a fish caught by line, not by trawler) prepared in olive oil, white wine, parsley, a touch of garlic, and for the final ingredient, and I quote from the menu here: ‘lots of imagination, you will love it.’ And, as the fish melted in my mouth, love it I did, Chef Enrico. La vita è bella indeed.

The restaurant at The Plettenberg is housed in the hotel of that same name, and set within the seaside town of that same name. This Russian doll affair is five star and luxurious: glistening white walls stand proud against the massive and total blue of the Indian ocean.

Fresh fish is truly the order of the day here. Taking deep inspiration from the sea that surrounds it, my meal began with a mind-destroying bouillabaisse and only escalated from there. I would recommend the catch of the day, which is served with warm zucchini salad, pistachio nuts, parmesan, and a lemon-butter sauce. And, for dessert, if we may be a little sinful: an apple tarte tatin, served with butterscotch sauce. brandy ice cream, and toasted almonds. I still think about it sometimes.

We now make the 20 minutes to Knysna, and we drop down into the bowl of this lagoon-wrapped town, and we turn left at the third traffic light, and left again, and we park outside Freshline Fisheries, and we think: and we lost?

I will not sugar coat it: the surroundings are crude. It looks like the back of the defunct trainyard because that is exactly what it is. There is a semi functional rubbish dump within 100 metres. Why am I mentioning these things? Why would you bring me here? Because, friend,  somehow and despite it all, the food is so good that it transcends these rusty wrappings.

Inside, beach sand has been brought in and covers the floor. Feel free to take off your shoes. I’ve never not come here with a bottle of wine or two (as corkage is free), and I would sincerely recommend doing the same.

As for food: being a local I’ve been here many times. Despite my repeated attempts at novelty, I end up ordering the same thing: the grilled hake and calamari tubes and heads combination. It is served with tartar sauce and chips (or salad, or vegetables,) and I have never not walked out of there (sometimes barefoot, as I forgot my shoes, due to wine), completely and utterly satisfied.

Butterfly Blu overlooks the beach in Brenton-On-Sea, a seaside village 15 minutes away from Knysna itself. Brenton is a great favourite with locals and travellers alike, and is a common pulpit to witness the daily wonder of a sunset. The restaurant itself is panelled with huge glass windows, which keeps the wind out, and yet lets all the light in.

The menu holds a diversity of seafood and South African inspired dishes – sushi, tempura prime hake, a prawn risotto, mirin glazed hake, patagonian calamari, seafood linguine, and a seafood curry. I had the curry with a Bengal-inspired blend of spices, the flavours profound and perfectly balanced.

One last thing: I often come here just to have their Pina Colada. I don’t usually like them but the one they concoct here is unlike anything else. It comes served in a glass the size and depth of a chalice that requires both hands to hold, so sitting there, holding this great vessel and drinking something that tastes like the milk of angels, with the sunset pouring in through the windows and reflecting off glass and little lights, one has a small religious experience. I’m still trying to steal the recipe.

One hill-hop later, we splash back down in Knysna. This time we are on the waterfront: see the yachts come in and out, and see how the double-decker drawbridge rises and falls to admit them. Attended by bells and little rotating lights, the bridge-raising is a small ceremony, and is celebrated by the dazed locals (like me). Located on the seaward arm of this little marina, The Drydock is a two story, inside-outside and patio restaurant that is never ever empty.

If you like oysters, the menu features a variety of sizes, prices, baked and fresh selections. An extensive and experienced sushi kitchen works tag teams with the main kitchen to produce dishes flaunting prawns, mussels, bass, hake –  all expert in quality and preparation.

And for entertainment, due to the waterfront being a great favourite with tourist buses, you can enjoy the world-class people watching while dining down upon your cajun sea bass fillet, served with pineapple salsa, along with an apple and pickled red cabbage slaw.

Now in the charmed and charming seaside village of Wilderness, we see a three-story building that rises from the white dune that looks in every way like a rising ship. This is the intended effect, and this is Salinas.

Named for one of the Aeolian Isles in Sicily, the menu serves ‘fresh, honest’ food drawing from both Mediterranean and local inspirations.

The standout dish at Salinas is one that draws from these two shores: the fish bobotie. Bobotie, pronounced ba-boor-tea, is born of South Africa’s rich heritage – milk-soaked bread and meat (In Salina’s case, Hake fish) are cooked in curry spices, then sweetened with dried raisins, and covered on top with beaten eggs.

The dish is then baked until golden brown and glistening. Often served with sambals, mango chutney, and fresh banana, it is a cornucopia of texture and taste – the soft heat of the curry bounces of the sweet bursts of raisins, and sweet and savoury meet and blend in your mouth, much like the headwaters of the Indian and Atlantic oceans do off Cape Town, the birthplace of this quintessentially South African dish.

Ilali, which means ‘Village’ in Xhosa, belongs to a little bundle of restaurants and bars that comprise the Wilderness ‘Village’ (as the locals call it,) as it is far too small and far too whimsical for the serious title of town.

Strutting down the road in Wilderness, one passes Ilali and is immediately struck by its crisp graphic design and matte black wood. It’s urban, it’s vibey, yet it’s tasteful, and these elements hit you all the harder due to their natural surroundings.

At Ilali music is often provided by a rotating cast of local musicians, matched by their rotating cast of monthly cocktails. For a starter, try the deep fried local baby squid served with caramelised pineapple and ginger and smoked chilli flakes. For a main, the pan fried line fish, served cuddled with sauteed baby potatoes, olives, sunblush tomatoes, tenderstem broccoli (a miracle of agriculture), and a lemon and herb butter.

And for dessert, a dare: climb up the ladder of the secret reservoir on the hill and look down at the lights of the coast and the lights of the sky. Here’s the location.

One last stop. I know your stomach is full but it’s gonna be worth it.

We drive out of Wilderness and descend into the lush and winding Keurbooms Pass, and then rise up until we make the coastal Plateau and tumble into the small city of George.

It’s always considerate when establishments include their directions within their name – in this case, we drive to 101 Meade street and, lo and behold, arrive at 101 Meade. Walking in we enter a cove of contemporary African aesthetics, soft and globular lights, with a hushed solidity to the tables and walls that herald the coming of an excellent meal.

It begins with a starter of Togarashi sushi, beautifully wrapped, ordered, and curated in both taste and presentation.

It climaxes with the saffron paella, where the world’s expensive spice (and my favourite colour) infuses rice dancing with prawns, baby squid, half shell mussels, chorizo, and peas.
And to end both our meal and our adventure upon a sweet note: the crème brûlée, which, infused with vanilla, and served with burnt swiss meringue, fresh berries, and beetroot dust, is an analogy in my mouth: how the hard, half burnt crust breaks and opens to reveal a silken mass of the softest custard. Like the crème brûlée, may we all crack open to reveal our softest and most beautiful makings.