The Foodbarn Bakery & Deli

11 August 2019

THE FOODBARN BAKERY & DELI

Noordhoek Village, Noordhoek, Cape Town

We skipped breakfast at De Noordhoek Hotel in favour of sleeping in and strolled across to the really close by Foodbarn Deli after checking out. It’s not often that we eat breakfast anywhere at 10h20, unless we do indeed rush to a hotel breakfast buffet.

Where the Foodbarn Restaurant has a double volume space, the Deli feels slightly cramped with a very low ceiling, with chunky wooden beams and an interior divided into  several different spaces, with a mixture of small, large and high tables.  It was also noticeably louder when as full as  It was, even that early in the morning. Or wait, is it not really early at all; it’s just our skewed perception because of our nocturnal habits? I guess the patrons live around the area and they’re keen to be out and about early on a Sunday.

The large kitchen area takes up a lot of space, as does the deli section, which means, as spacious it might seem, the Deli doesn’t have that much space to accommodate prospective patrons and it seems to me one should be there early to get a good table.

The wife ordered, as she always does, a cappuccino in the biggest cup or mug the establishment has, and was served a cup that would make a soup tureen  look like an espresso cup. I had the espresso. In a standard-sized espresso cup.

Good coffee.

When I read “toasted Moroccan tram” on the menu, my mind was made up. The wife says I’m so predictable in my choices, even if I’ve never been to a restaurant before, she can spot  what I’m likely to order before I mention it. This was one. I like me something exotic and spicy, and it goes for my food choices too. Not to mention my hope to see what a tram-sized dish would look like.

Yes, yes, I knew “tram” is short for tramezzini. But one can always dream.

The waiter asked whether I’d like fries (or potatoes, as he put it; hmm, perhaps they weren’t fries after all) or salad. Salad of course. Do Moroccans even eat fries?

The wife, more prosaically and not totally unexpected either, ordered the eggs Benedict on potato rösti.

Both meals were sizable portions. The eggs  were well poached and the dish was quite satisfying except for the usual lack of lemon zing in the Hollandaise. In the same way that everyone seems to have accepted the apostrophised plural (a pet hate!), restaurants seem to believe that no lemon should be harmed in the making of Hollandaise. The main course was accompanied by two thick slices of toasted sourdough bread, butter, marmalade and jam.

My tramezzini was chunky, well toasted and filled with flavourful chicken but in the absence of a little bit of heat (the supposed harissa in the mayo was exceedingly dormant) it was a coriander flavoured chicken mayo sandwich rather than a dish directly from the bazaars or Marrakesh. The salad was the usual array of many leaves, red onion and marginalised tomatoes and olives.'

The verdict was that we had good breakfasts, minor niggles aside, in generous portions in a warm, welcoming space that made us feel all happy and fuzzy inside. There was a happy throng around us and, special mention, it is a very dog friendly place. Bring your pooch, the larger the better, and break the fast in Noordhoek.