It was a “safari” because there were four young winemakers, each of whom had brought along a wine to show off, tell us about and share with us, all the while being matched to a particular dish by executive chef Roland Gorgosilich and his highly skilled team. In effect, we all stayed put at our tables, while four winemakers moved from table to table with each course.
Other than Alex, who was elegantly turned out in pink and blue and yellow and oh, I could go on and on, it was easy to tell which ones were the wine judges. They all had teeth stained with the red-black detritis of a thousand wines. It was like being at the closing night dinner of a vampire convention. You flinched if one of them came near.
This dinner is the highlight of the South African foodie calendar and has become a fabulous and very stylish event over the years. But if McCarney didn’t put a word wrong, others did fluff their lines. Eat Out editor Abigail Donnelly did the customary thanking of sponsors, including ‘Wild Cock’, quickly correcting herself while the audience convulsed. Wild Peacock may never live that one down.
The sole meat course was served beneath grand silver domes. After a very Grande Roche countdown (‘Sree, two, von!’), they were lifted to reveal the tiniest morsels of beef looking quite distraught, like wayward sons banished to the wastelands of vast white plates.