Visgraat is not a beach shack

 6 February 2022

 

VISGRAAT

1 Kus Street, Glentana, Groot Brak River, 

 

2022 marks a significant wedding anniversary for the in-laws but also marks the 10 year anniversary of a holiday in the Southern Cape in which the wife and I ate some of the worst food ever. “Sea Gypsy” is still our shorthand for particularly badly cooked, unappetising seafood. Since then we’ve had excellent meals up and down the coast but today was not that day. 

 

Our food at Visgraat was decidedly average and once again made us wonder why one pays good money to eat for fuel, not truly for enjoyment, and the meal once again emphasised to me that there’s hardly any point in expecting outstanding seafood at the coast. It’s no better than anywhere else.

 

I expected Visgraat to be a beach shack, in the style and with the getup of the aggressively rustic-shabby Sea Gypsy in Mossel Bay or Fresh Line Fisheries on Thesen Island, Knysna, but, to the contrary, it’s a large, modern, quite stylish establishment with views over the beach (and beach car park) and ocean, with indoor seating in the style of your typical Greek taverna, albeit more upmarket, and plenty of bench seats outside, and when it’s crowded, like today, it’s quite festive.

 

Out in the front lobby some guy was playing amplified acoustic guitar instrumentals for our delectation and delight, a thankless gig if I’ve ever seen one.

 

We took along some bubbly and paid R50 corkage, so I can’t tell you much about the wine list but it seems that it caters for most tastes. I did note that Visgraat claims that Glenfiddich 12-year old is an Irish whiskey.

 

The food is mainly seafood, with a good assortment of pizzas and some meat dishes, like the grilled pork ribs, with or without stokvis.

 

I should mention that Visgraat’s idea of a Greek salad is their house salad (your basic leaves, tomato and cucumber concoction) tarted up with olives and Danish Feta. This kind of aberration is a pet hate of mine. The Greek salad is a very simple thing, with no salad leaves whatsoever yet in this country, restaurants bulk up what they disingenuously call a “Greek Salad” with the greens and tend to skimp on the tomato, olives and Feta. 

 

The father in law and I started with the Panko crumbed prawn tails (R65)

with a sweet chili sauce; the mother in law ordered the deep fried, crumbed calamari (R65) and the wife asked for grilled calamari (R65), served with a tartare sauce. 

 

The grilled calamari strips, with a distinct lack of grill marks, could’ve been overcooked, brilliantly white pasta off cuts, tofu or, even, badly sliced Mozzarella. The wife took one look, muttered something about “maggots” and pushed her plate aside. 

 

Ever the gentleman, I swopped my prawns for the grilled calamari.  I ate one prawn tail and it was scrumptious, with the most delicate of crisp crumbed coatings. 

 

The calamari was perfectly cooked and succulent but had no flavour other than its rather meh natural taste. If one orders an allegedly grilled item, it would be reassuring to see and taste evidence of grilling. These calamari strips could’ve been heated up in a microwave for all I know.

 

The Panko crumbed prawns didn’t need the sweet chilli sauce to be tasty. Without the tartare sauce, the calamari sparked as little joy as the plain tofu they could’ve passed for.

 

The wife’s main course was grilled prawns and fries (R185.)

 Her mother had the prawns with vegetables (R185) and the father in law ate the grilled hake and deep fried calamari combo (R150.) Originally, he wanted the grilled calamari and changed his mind when he saw what the wife was served.

 

They were not completely happy with their respective meals. At least three of the prawns, between two plates, were clearly not very fresh (“melerig” for the Afrikaans-speakers amongst you), the portion of hake was small and dry and the wife thought her sub-par fries were from McCain’s (frozen chips left in the freezer for too long).

 

My seafood paella (R150)

was a generous portion of spicy rice (not paella rice) and a generous amount of well-cooked seafood. It was likable, yet not adorable and was one of those anonymous meals that fades from culinary memory the moment one swallows the final mouthful.

 

My dessert was the Mississippi mud pie (R65)

 and the wife took a chance on the fudge Picasso (R60) , which she also didn’t care for after one bite. 

 

The mud pie was a lovely, delightful, mini tower of light chocolate mousse; the fudge thing looked like a huge chunk of cheese cake, but was as cold as, and tasted like a faintly toffee flavoured, ice cream cake. I’d say no fudge suffered any prejudice in the making of it and the Picasso connection eluded me.  I liked it. The father-in-law and I ate it. 

 

Mother-in-law indulged herself with a Frangelico Dom Pedro.

 

It’s supremely unsatisfactory when you’re summing up of the meal could be that your dessert was the highlight of the meal, yet the dessert, though hitting that sweet spot,  wasn’t super special and shined only in comparison to the preceding courses that will never make it onto a “top ten” list. Not even an honourable mention. No wait, the Panko crumbed prawns were good; so there’s the honourable mention.

 

The total bill (before tip), including corkage and a bottle of water, came to R1185, which is a very reasonable amount for a party of four  though it’s only the portion sizes that reflect value for money.

 

The  service was friendly but extremely slow, perhaps because the restaurant was already crowded by noon, but it’s never wonderful to wait for service. 

 

To be kind, I’d say that Visgraat offers, at best, a decent standard of seafood cookery that’s not always 100% on point and won’t warp your fragile little mind with unsurpassed flavours, textures and presentation. There’s a good variety of dishes, the setting is quite spectacular and the locals seem to be keen on Sunday lunch there, but it’s not a place we’ll hurry back to when we’re in the area again.