Est.

Dad's 50th. His restaurant of choice? Est.

Nicely done.

The best part? Half day Friday, with the afternoon spent enjoying too much wine in a sun-flooded, column skirted room spying big deals being made over expensive lunches.

Birthday boy and Mum are joined by my partner ('Cueball' if you remember) and 'Ms. Issey'. I am running late and find all four getting into G&T's to while away time. I settle back into my luscious armchair and get to work making the tough decision of what to have. Est. certainly doesn't make it easy.

In the end I go for the freshly shucked oysters with ponzu dressing (if you haven't ever tried ponzu, DO IT!) Don't whinge at me for choosing something 'easy', oysters and ponzu is a pairing not seen since chocolate and peanuts. The briny, slippery oysters drizzled with a touch of sweet/salty umame goodness. Oh how I have missed thee.

Cueball goes for salad of spanner crab, cucumber, lime, apple jelly and elderflower ajo bianco. Ms. Issey, the Italian buffalo mozzarella, shaved fennel, artichokes, iberico jamon, broad beans and violets. Birthday Boy and Mum plumb for grilled prawns, snap peas, shaved heirloom carrots, radish, iberico jamon broth. The prawns are so large I doubt you could fit more than four on a plate, and the flesh is the just-cooked through perfection required for such delicate flesh. The shaved carrots and snap peas are a lovely crunchy compliment to the softness of the dish. This dish tingles on the palette and whets the appetite for the rest of the meal.

One of the most fantastic things about dining at Est. is the staff. They flit elegantly around the room. Never rushed, but always swift. You remain almost unaware of their presence until, unbidden, glasses are refilled and napkins are folded in your absence. When the time comes a brigade of wait staff glide to your table, each depositing your dish and quietly offering an explanation of the treats that await your tastebuds. The theatre of it all is wonderful.

Wine? Oh yes, how could I forget?  Pinot Grigio Mt Difficulty, Central Otago, NZ, 2010. Followed by two bottles of their Pinot Noir (the '09 version). As I said in an earlier post, get into the Central Otago stuff. It be good.

Mains: pan roasted lamb rib eye, nettle puree, roasted shallots, zuchini, crisp polenta, black garlic vinaigrette. The lamb is the perfect red/pink blush right through, so much so I believed it to be sous-vide. The nettle puree on its own reminds me faintly of spirulina, but when combined with the rest of the dish it gives the lamb a delicately earthy fragrance that is beautifully contrasted with the rich crunch of the polenta chips. All this is rounded out with sweet, roasted shallots. Needless to say the plate goes back clean. The rest of the table orders the honey glazed duck breast, carrot puree, salsify, duck breast jamon, chicory and star anise in addition to crisp king whiting fillet, grilled scallops, jerusalem artichoke puree, white soy and bonito emulsion.

Rest. Breathe. Souffle.

Blood orange souffle.

I don't even need to explain how good it is.

I also snaffle a bite of vanilla cheesecake, apple puree, walnut biscuit, green apple-celery sorbet. Now I am not a massive fan a cheesecake, generally it is a stodgy thing. At Est. the cheesecake is transformed to a light, delicately flavoured dream with the right amount of sweetness to round off a meal. And the sorbet! The celery balances the sweet apple flavours with a crisp, fresh, greeness. Give me some vodka over that sorbet and I have a new favorite drink. But vodka not being appropriate (i.e. if I drink more I may end up under the table) I sip at some Frogmore Creek iced reisling, 2008 from Southern Tasmania. I love Inniskillin Reilsing icewine from Canada, but needing a cheaper alternative today the Frogmore fits the bill (see what I did there?). It is sweet, but not sickly. Instead it glides accross the palate coating the inside of your mouth with lovely floral, honey notes.

At the end of the meal we all lean back and sigh. I don't want it to be over, but I doubt I could manage any more. A truly excellent meal means you don't care what the number at the end of the bill is. And I don't. Est. is still number one.