WHEN De Vrije Burger opens in Sea Point we will have officially run out of fingers on both hands to count all Bertus Basson’s restaurants. Now that I’ve eaten at Ongetem, there’s only one more to add: Toevlug. It opened at Annandale Wines only last week, so I can cut myself a bit of slack.
Ongetem (Afrikaans for untamed) is inside the Canopy by Hilton Cape Town Longkloof in Gardens, serving in-house guests as well as everyone else in Cape Town after creative small, medium and large plates for lunch or dinner, and breakfast. According to our waiter Prince, while breakfast is mainly hotel guests, lunch and dinner service skews wildly to outside diners, and being so fully booked, a beautiful thing to behold; hotel restaurants are notoriously quieter than standalone restaurants in this respect. It was a very smart move to bring Bertus in here.
Much more than a typical hotel restaurant, the full name, if you will, is Butcher, Baker, Cocktail Maker. The hotel invited us for dinner last week with the offer of a cocktail each. It would have been rude not to, so I had a Burnt Negroni and Colleen had a Porn Star Martini, as part of her project to sample the same cocktail at different venues and draw comparisons. For me, passion fruit is one of my favourite aromas, which you get a noseful of from the half a grenadilla which floats in the drink as you sip it.
The deal was three dishes each, so we took our time with the menu. From the flatbreads section we chose the schmaltz with crispy chicken skin, and snoek taramasalata with snoek bottarga and trout roe. Other options are garlic parsley and parmesan butter, smoked aubergine, labneh cucumber and cumin, and oxtail jam and bread and butter pickles. I see no reason a person could not make an entire meal just with these.
With the flatbreads we had two small plates: baked pickled ox tongue, slap hakskeentjies, hand chopped chermoula; and raw tuna, blood orange, avocado, cucumber, jalapeño, fennel and blood orange dressing (pictured above). The tongue was thinly sliced, carpaccio-style, and the sweet, fruity mustard vibes were a hit of nostalgia. The tuna is a beautifully, fabulously fresh dish layered with zings from the jalapeño and blood orange alongside the smooth cool creaminess of avocado, cucumber and the tuna. Such pretty colours together too, pink and green.
This led us to our main course, a 300g sirloin perfectly medium rare and juicy, with a nice bit of fat (which makes everything better), served sliced; and a bowl of salt and vinegar chips. I enquired as to the sorcery used to impart the vinegar flavour and a staff member (not Prince) said he doubted the chef would share the recipe. It just so happened Bertus was on service that night, something he does at all his restaurants in rotation, and he didn’t even hesitate to tell us. But now it’s our secret, so you’ll just have to go try them and enjoy for yourself. They are most excellent. I bet the furikake chips are too.
We didn’t have space for dessert, sad face, but perhaps we’ll go back just for the Amarula white chocolate mousse with honeycomb and/or Grand Marnier soufflé. They do a cheese trolley too so I asked nicely if they’d wheel it out for a photo, which they did. You will see that, and others from the meal, on my Instagram soon. Pics here were supplied by the restaurant.
As for the impeccable service, in a WhatsApp convo with Colleen while writing this, I asked if she could confirm his name because her memory is younger and better than mine. Was it Prince? Yes, she replied. “And his service was so efficient I think even talking about him now, he might appear!” Quite so.
It was a lovely evening in that valley of food that is both top class and comforting, from trusted suppliers, where smart meets casual, for special occasions or what we sometimes just call Wednesday. With this menu, and decor that reflects Bertus’s motorcycle passion, this feels like such an honest representation of who he is. I also know he will give his team, and head chef Bradley Le Grange, all due credit.
For more information and to book, click here.
