Jano Bistro is one of the unsung heroes of the Wellington dining scene. We’ve been supporters of the place since they opened, but haven’t
been back for a while – they closed for a short period for family reasons, but have recently re-opened. However, with a
birthday coming up, we decided it was high time we revisited, and had a go at
their dégustation menu.
Here’s the menu:
The amuse gueule was a pastry crisp with an intensely
mushroom-flavoured bead of goo on it:
The remaining courses are pretty much as described on the
menu. Each was accompanied by a glass of wine, mostly from New Zealand but the occasional French; and one course with a Finnish lemonade honey drink:
Hangi potato, oyster mushroom, celeriac, sourdough
Buckwheat tart, garlic, parsley, hazelnut, snails
Kohlrabi, saffron, dill, yellowbelly flounder
Cauliflower, prunes, Pedro Ximenez, pork belly
Parsnip, orange, coffee, rye flour, wild venison
Reblochon, potatoes, onion, black truffle
Jano beverage - lemon, honey
Pink lady apple, yeast, deer milk, star anise sorbet
David Ladderman and Lizzie Tollemache, also known as
Rollicking Entertainment, are back at Circa Theatre with a new show, The Dunstan Street Haunting. Avid readers of this blog (I fantasise that such
people exist) will remember them from previous shows Seven Deadly Stunts and Mr
and Mrs Alexander. This time around they’re regaling us with tales of ghosts
and hauntings from Central Otago, in the time of the gold rush. They focus
particularly on the story of Rose McKendry and Ben Hunter.
The show starts ordinarily enough: a spooky-sounding musical
intro comes on – aficionados immediately recognise it as the first few bars of
Ghostbusters – and David and Lizzie introduce themselves, ask us who we’re
going to call, and then explain a bit about the background of the story they’re
going to be telling. They’re assisted in this with some suitably lo-tech equipment
– a slide projector and a gramophone. As they explain that they’re going to be telling
the story, but also doing some acting, they demonstrate the props and costumes
they’ll be using so we can tell which is which.
To begin with, the slide show – and they tell some stories how
life was for the people of the goldfields in mid-19th century New
Zealand. In a word, hard. As they show the slides, there seems to be some
problem with the equipment – slides are out of order, and a mysterious object
keeps appearing. After a while they give up on these technical difficulties,
put the projector and screen away, and get on telling the story in the
old-fashioned way. They tell us the story of Rose and Ben, and even have Rose’s
music box as a prop. Wait, didn’t we just see that in the slide show?
As the story progresses, Lizzie and David act out the parts
of Rose and Ben. Without giving too much away, it doesn’t end well. This is,
after all, a ghost story, and you can’t have a ghost story without there being
a dead person. One of them ends up brown bread. The props, lighting and the
sound effects all convey an eerie atmosphere.
And…snap! We’re back in the room. At this point, they decide
to do a little experiment. Lizzie is convinced that she can feel a presence,
and decides to hold a séance to try and contact the ghost. For this, she needs
the help of three members of the audience. We were perfectly positioned in the
centre of a row, so unlikely to be called upon. Lizzie selects three victims
assistants for the séance, and they take their place on stage.
Does the ghost appear? Does anyone disappear? What
happens? We don’t know. The stage manager comes on stage and informs us that
the show is over.
Brian Cox is back in town, with a different show to his last
visit. He was here about 18 months ago with his Scientific Phenomena show. This time he was focussing specifically on space and the universe. We sacrificed a
night at pub quiz to go and see him.
For a quick dinner beforehand, we decided on Bin 44. Mindful
of our previous mishap when dining out before a show at the TSB, we booked a
table and rocked up at 6:15. This caused a bit of kerfuffle as they were fully
booked, and someone had walked in and just sat down at a table, without waiting
to be seated, so the staff had to evict them from our table. Bin 44 is more pub
grub than fine dining, so we had a burger and pizza. The pizza was enormous so
Nicola could only finish half of it (the burger was pretty substantial too) so
maybe we’ll just share one next time we go there.
Then it was across the road, and taking our place up on a
side gallery in the TSB Arena. Brian came on to huge applause, thanked us for coming out on a
cold, windy Wellington night, and said how delighted he was that on such a
night 2,500 people are prepared to come out and listen to someone talk about science-y
stuff. He then launched into a quick explanation of relativity, time and
events, drew some charts, and explained how time can be different for different
people. It was quite science-y. From this, he moved into a discussion about
black holes and what they look like. To illustrate this he drew on his
experience with the people who made the black hole model used in the film
Interstellar, and how it was based on real, actual science, not just fancy
special effects (although they used some of those as well). He then showed us
the famous picture taken a couple of months ago of a black hole, and
demonstrated that it looked pretty much as predicted by the model used in the
film.
Black hole from Interstellar
Black hole from reality
Not only that, but that the basis of the model was Einstein’s theory of
relativity, showing how this 100-year-old theory was still the basis for
astrophysics today. We had a picture of the universe from 380,000 years after
the Big Bang, and why it looked like it did, all the way through the formation
of planets and the conditions necessary for life to form. He went through some
recent discoveries and theories about planets within our solar system that
might support life, and once again mentioned the ice fountains of Enceladus.
This all sound like heavy going. How about some light
relief? Of course, his old mucker and co-presenter of Infinite Monkey Cage, Robin Ince, was
there alongside him, to provide some comedy and break up the evening a bit. Also
to give Brian a rest, as he spoke non-stop for nearly an hour in the first
half. Robin amused us with some talk of dressing like a scientist, and how he
is mistaken for Brian’s dad (they’re the same age). He also had several
requests for his cardigan supplier.
As at the previous talk we went to, he opened up the second
half to questions from the audience, and also digressed into philosophy. Once
again an enjoyable evening.
West Side Story is playing in Wellington for a limited
season. We’d be fools not to go.
This outing was organised by Nicola’s chorus, the current world championsWellington City Chorus. We met up with a few of them
beforehand in one of Wellington’s ever-increasing number of brew bars,
Whistling Sisters. We’ve been there before and found it to produce good food,
which I washed down with one of their brews. Nicola had wine (which they didn’t
make). We both had scotch eggs for dinner, accompanied by salad and chips.
We walked up to the Opera House and found our way to the
gallery, where we are seated. The gallery hasn’t usually been open for other
shows we’ve seen at the Opera House – it’s certainly the first time we’ve had seats
up there in the nosebleed section.
The show got under way, with an elaborate set representing
the back streets of New Yoik – all railings and drop-down fire escape ladders.
It switched in and out to allow street scenes, and also the interior of the
dress shop where Maria works. With all this design in the set, it was
remarkably underused, I thought, with nearly all the action taking place
between the two swingout sections. All the singing and dancing is done very
competently, and the story progresses with gusto.
They did seem to leave the break between acts very late, but
this seems to be in accordance with the original production. Uncomfortable
Opera House seats can leave you a bit saddlesore after an hour and a half, so
it was a relief when the interval came. The second act, in which the
consequences of all the violence at the end of Act One have to be faced, is
mercifully shorter. The ending is sudden, and given its emotional impact, there’s
no grand finale song’n’dance number, nor an encore. The cast came out and took
their curtain calls, then that was it, show’s over.
The observant among you may have noticed that I’ve been
spending quite a lot of time at Zealandia over the last few months. In fact, since
doing a number of training sessions in August and September last year, I have
been a volunteer guide at the sanctuary, working at weekends. This involves
helping people out around the sanctuary, pointing out the wildlife (which some
people walk right past without noticing), feeding some of the birds, and also
giving short talks on various subjects around the valley.
As summer moves into autumn, one of the events at
Zealandia is an Open Weekend. This allows Wellingtonians to visit the sanctuary
for a measly $2 per person instead of the usual cost of a 2-day pass, $19.50.
Which is still a bargain, by the way. But Wellingtonians love a freebie, and
there is a positive stampede on this weekend. Naturally, they need as much help
as possible, and so all volunteers and other staff are roped in to help. As a
reward for this, they offer a free night tour to volunteers.
On a windy Wednesday evening, therefore, Nicola and I
arrived at the Visitor Centre at the allotted time of 4:45pm. They actually
start the tour in the dusky twilight as there are some crepuscular creatures to
be seen. At the beginning there is a health-and-safety briefing, then we’re
kitted out with earpieces and red-light torches (which don’t disturb night-time
animals). Before we set out we’re subjected to the Zealandia film, which is
basically a guilt-trip about all the damage done by humans to New Zealand since
arrival, but culminates on an upbeat note with the building of Zealandia and
the release of native species within.
There are six of us on the tour – one couple from
Auckland, one visiting from the USA, and us. The tour is led by Katie, who does
all the talking, and assisted by Julie, who scouts out ahead, looking for kiwi.
Kiwi are the main attraction and objective of the night tour; they are
nocturnal so, despite being in the valley in reasonable numbers (130 is the
current estimate), they’re not seen by the public on a general admittance ticket. Indeed, I’m
often asked where they are when I’m working during the day, and explain that
you’ll need to come on a night tour to see them. Some species of kiwi are still
found in the wild in remote areas of New Zealand, but the species we have at
Zealandia, little spotted kiwi, are only found in reserves and on predator-free
islands. They owe their existence to a far-sighted conservationist,
who transferred five birds to Kapiti Island in 1912. The species was already extinct on the
mainland, and shortly afterwards became extinct on all other islands. Since the 1980s populations have been established
on other offshore islands, and in Zealandia.
Kiwi are supposed to be nocturnal. This one didn't get the memo.
Katie led us on the usual tour along the Lake Road, down
to see the takahe, and through the jungly Te Mahanga track, where we saw cave
weta, glow worms, and heard the night-time activities of kaka. But no kiwi. We
could hear them calling in the distance, but couldn’t see any. At this point,
Julie left our group to go and scout for kiwi in likely locations. And it was as
we walked back along the Lake Road, with Katie giving us some further information
on something or other, that she was interrupted by a call on the radio. Kiwi ahead!
We strode purposefully forward as quickly as possible without making a noise,
and sure enough, foraging on the cliff by the side of the road, was a little
spotted kiwi! Despite being highlighted by Julie’s red light, it seems
unconcerned by our presence, and continued snuffling through the leaf litter
and undergrowth, in search of worms, beetles and other inveterate invertebrates,
for around five minutes.
So we saw a kiwi in the wild! Mission accomplished, we headed back to
the Visitor Centre for a cup of kawakawa tea, returned our equipment, and headed back home.
New Zealand’s Comedy Festival took place between 2nd
and 26th May. We took a look through the programme and made a
selection of five shows – all people we’d not seen before:
The Fan Brigade
A Friday night gig at the San Fran – usually a music
venue, but set up this time for comedy. They have some strange narrow tables
there which you sit at perpendicular to the stage. They’re wide enough for
drinks, but not for eating. Fortunately, we’d booked ourselves into Heaven
afterwards, so weren’t tempted by the food options, which aren’t great. The
beer is good, though. The Fan Brigade are two Kiwi women who sing songs about
life, particularly New Zealand life, and their take on it. They are frequently
rude; in their songs, to each other, and to the audience. And very, very funny.
Here’s a taster:
Afterwards we went to Heaven for pizza.
The following week, we took in two shows in one night. With
only half an hour between shows, we decided to have an early dinner at Capitol,
it being near to our first venue, BATS Theatre.
Kura Forrester
Kura Forrester is perhaps better known as an actress,
from What We Do In The Shadows, The Breaker Upperers, and various New Zealand TV
series. Her show, Kura Woulda Shoulda, draws on her family life, and introduces
various characters as aunts and uncles, all of whom we have to keep up with.
She also gives a lot of detail about her sex life, and in particular, finishes with
a story about then-unknown, now rugby multi-code megastar, Sonny Bill Williams.
This show eventually won the Billy T award this year.
David Correos
A short walk up the road took us to the Fringe Bar, one
of the full-time comedy and cabaret clubs in Wellington. This looked like
another sell-out night (we went on Cheap Wednesday), and we were near the
front. Not too near, as we have had instances where, upon seeing an act
that we were unfamiliar with, we were invited to become part of the show. David Correos is a Filipino comedian, and specialises a lot in gross-out comedy.
Fortunately for us, most of his show was merely describing his previous comedic
shows and experiences. These sounded bad enough being related to us, so what
they were like when he actually performed them beggars belief. He finished on a
high with a tale about boats with no toilet facilities, relieving oneself whilst
swimming in the sea – I mean, hey, who’s going to notice? – and the effects of
currents in water. Oh, did he mention his parents were on board? His parents
were on board.
Alice Snedden
The following week, on cheap Wednesday, we headed back to
the Fringe Bar to see Alice Snedden. Alice has been writing, and appearing on, New
Zealand TV shows for the last couple of years, with such shows as Jono And Ben
and Funny Girls, and now has a show called Absolute Monster. She is, I think, a
standard comedian. Yes, she has funny stories and tells them well, but she
doesn’t seem to have a hook on which to hang it, anything unique. Still, an
enjoyable night. Afterwards we crossed
the road to Fratelli, an Italian which we have so far managed to avoid in all
our trips out. They do standard Italian grub, pretty well but nothing unusual.
So it complemented the comedy quite well.
So You think You Khandallah?
The next night out was our final pick for this year’s festival.
So You Think You Khandallah? Is an ensemble piece by Kickin’ Rad, performed at
BATS Theatre. It’s set in the Khandallah Academy of Performing Arts in the
Eighties, and comes with a warning: may contain legwarmers.
So what’s the title all about? Khandallah, for my
international readers, is a suburb of Wellington. Previous years’ productions
have included Mirror Miramar and Deep Space Naenae. The premise is an
improvised soap opera, set in an acting and dancing school. It is played over
five nights, and I’m sure there are some aficionados who go every night to find
out how it works out. We weren’t that committed, and only went for one night.
There is a sort of compère who announces the plot changes, scenes, and
generally moves the action on. One of the actors decided to play the entire
evening as a horse, which led to some interesting situations (lots of “what’s
that, Skippy? Timmy’s fallen down a well?” – type dialogue needed to convey her
thoughts). It was all very silly and enjoyable, but we had no real need to go
and find out how it all ended.
Afterwards we went for dinner at a new(-ish) place that’s
opened up around the corner, Brown Brothers. This is an Indian fusion
restaurant featuring a chef who worked under Chetan Pangam of 180°Restaurant. It wasn’t bad, but I felt that they could have been bolder with the spices.
So that’s our comedy festival adventure for this year.
Well blimey! I’ve fallen way behind on this blog…here’s
an update. Last month, we went to see Waiting for Godot, at Circa Theatre. This
was their headline production for May, and we went along to a matinee
performance on a Sunday afternoon, so no dining experience beforehand or
afterhand.
Waiting For Godot, as you may be aware, is a play in
which very little happens. Not only that, the second act is very similar to the
first act so, in the words of Vivian Mercier, it is “…a play in which nothing happens, twice.” Further,
the stage directions were provided by Becket so there isn’t a lot of room for
improvisation. I’ve not seen it all the way through before – I seem to recall
watching part of the Stewart/McKellern version on the tell-o-vision many years
ago.
There’s not much more to say about it, really. The production was
up to standard, but they didn’t do anything overtly new with the material. Pozzo
was played by Hobbit actor Peter Hambleton (Gloin), and the other parts by
Circa stalwarts Jeff Kingsford-Brown and Andrew Foster. We emerged, into the
now dark and cold wind of a Wellington night.
