Love They Neighbour

9 January 2020

LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR

110 Bree Street, Cape Town

Don’t you just love those overblown, often pretentious, descriptions of a restaurant’s mission, point and purpose in our humdrum lives? Usually with a devastating disconnect between what they aspire to be and what the reality on the ground is.

Case in point: Love Thy Neighbour.   Allegedly, “an incomparably unique space” that’s “all about authentic Greek food” and “will leave vegans and vegetarians as happy as meat-loving (what other kind is there?) carnivores.”

Whoop whoop!

Not really.

My impression is that the target demographic is considerably younger and far less sophisticated than I am, well, definitely far younger, and it’s not the kind of place I’d take the wife to on date night, or any other night, much less invite friends to meet us there.

So, I’m a restaurant snob. When I was young, foolish and skint, I frequented establishments like Love Thy Neighbour but today I popped in simply out of curiosity after  a ramble around the CBD and Bree Street in particular. I was feeling peckish and Love Thy Neighbour seemed the apt choice, seeing as how I’ve never set foot on the grounds, and because most other places in the street are over familiar to me.

There are a bunch of long, bench tables under umbrellas outside, on the Longmarket Street side of the building, where the barbecue or braai area also is, and it looks like low budgie beer garden. The interior is slightly better appointed, though austere, with upholstered banquette seating against the walls, small, square, dark wood tables and wire chairs, art works against the walls and exposed wooden beams above. Minimalistic pub, I’d call it. Traditional Greek taverna it ain’t.

Love Thy Neighbour looks like the kind of joint where the patrons drink craft beer or craft gin, eat as cheaply as possible and discuss dismantling the patriarchy, establishing non-binary principles in all walks of life, or maybe recounting their romantic affrays courtesy of Tinder.

The menus (one for food and one for drink) are printed in A4 sheets and add to the general impression of cheapness.  Ostensibly, one can order Stella Artois, but just not today. The drinks menu seems to be one of those where the waiter continuously disabuses you of your optimistic hope that one of the more exotic offerings might actually be available.

Although there are some mezze options (highly recommended by the elder goddaughter who likes this place), I must confess that I didn’t get the impression that it’s “all about Greek food,” of whatever authenticity or provenance,  The predominant impression is of pizza, steak and burgers and there is no significant presence of vegetarian dishes, certainly no more than standard restaurant fare, and nothing like the vegan corner of the Cowboy & Cooks menu.

To my utter dismay and distress, there was no fake meat on the menu,  Making the best of a bad lot, and neither craving hummus or wanting salad, my choice was the cauliflower, described as being served with tahini puree, walnut, capers, dates and celery (R100) and I drank my usual brand of  commercial beer.

The cauliflower was well grilled, with a good contrast between soft and firmer textures, and there was plenty smooth tahini puree but the other promised elements failed to put in a significant appearance. If they were present, it was so subtle and undistinguished as to make no material difference, which was disappointing, as those elements would have elevated a rather banal vegetarian dish. It wasn’t too shabby but it could have been so much better.

Look, if your pleasure is hanging out in simple, unsophisticated, semi-rustic surroundings, drinking and eating simple, unsophisticated food in the company of raucous young people, Love They Neighbour is for you.  Alternatively, drop by during lunch time when it seems to be quiet and unpopulated. One can only hope that the cooks will do justice to what the menu offers and do simple things well. If a more upmarket ambience and more enterprising food is your thing, avoid Love They Neighbour. You won’t regret it.