Harti's Sjiek. is a sick kind of chic.

 4 November 2023

 

HARTI’S SJIEK

Brinkley’s River Village, Klein Brakrivier

 

You park on a dusty patch of gravel, amble towards the entrance of a low-slung, prefab building. First, you cross a  wooden footbridge, ordinarily over a pond or stream but here over dust, then pass between two metal tables, each with two carver chairs facing outward a few metre from the building and finally reach the entrance,  flanked by two faux building facades vaguely reminiscent of Greek temple design, with small, square “widows,”  in relief against the wall.  

 

A décor stylist of unique and idiosyncratic talent has been doing good work here yet didn’t rest on their laurels after setting up this eerie tableau. Oh no.

 

It’s a hot, wind free day and unless you’re sporting sunglasses you squint against the brightness of the light.  It’s kinda gloomy inside the building and when you step inside, your eyes take a few moments to adjust to the sharp contrast.

 

When you’re fully adjusted and attempt to absorb the extraordinary visual impact  of scene, it’s as if you’re finally peaking from that tab of acid you took a while ago and seemed to have no effect at all.

 

That first shock impression of the interior is that you’re in the middle of a CGI rendering of colourful, over-abundant, gloriously kitsch craziness. Rococo, daddy’s home! 

 

Many, many tables are crammed into the space and each table has a massive, central artificial flower arrangement, and plating in stacks of patterned fine porcelain. The space is divided into nooks and crannies by display cases, cupboards, book cases, small tables, sideboards and all manner of horizontal surface, every inch of which is covered by more porcelain plates, side plates, cups, saucers and figurines, copper or brass items, old fashioned tins (for tea, rusks, Maizena, baking powder, and a plethora of other such kitchen products), and all manner of gee gaws, “quaint & quirky” oddments and ornaments. 

 

It's as if the decorator strip mined every octogenarian estate sale they could reach. There is just too much stuff for the brain to process. You have to take a moment to close your eyes, breathe deeply, calm your heart, murmur your mental health mantra, before opening your incredulous eyes to focus on only one part of the room at a time.

 

Either that or you simply ignore the over the top, obviously fake construct of “reality” around you, and scan the menu for your choice of brunch dish. 

 

Harti’s Sjiek is part of Brinkley’s River Village, which is a repurposing of a previously sad, desolate and desperately faded motel on the outskirts of the Klein Brakrivier village and the new owners obviously have grand plans for the complex of buildings.

 

If you step out of the back door of Harti’s Sjiek, there’s a less cluttered and calmer arrangement of seating under cover and picnic tables and bench seats further out back. There’s also another emporium-in-progress under the name and style of Glenhoff Stube & Tapas. The latter food style is obviously the sushi of 2023; I’ve not seen much German tapas. 

 

Will the Spur soon offer its own variety of steak ranch tapas?

 

Apparently, there’s also a nice pub somewhere on the grounds.

 

The wife, the in-laws, her brother, sister-in-law, their kids and I were at Harti’s Sjiek for brunch and cake to celebrate the wife’s impending birthday.

 

With this kind of ridiculously over-the-top décor, I would’ve expected a bravura menu to match, but, naah, the menu is Spartanly basic and reminiscent of the kind of fare, slightly updated for the current ethos, one could expect from small town cafés back in the dim, distant previous century. 

 

If you like quiches and pies, you’ll be well happy though but, hey, if you don’t, you’ll face a challenge because that’s it. The variety of small quiches are all priced at R75,00 as are the chicken pie and steak pie, all of them served with salad, and well as toasted sandwiches at R38,00. The cakes are between  R45,00 and R60,00.

 

The  Afrikaans / English menu reminded me of Greek menus where the English translations are often weirdly comical, yet here it’s the misspelled Afrikaans that jars.  I’m not sure what language “fudje Picaso” is meant to be or, indeed, what kind of cake it might be.

 

Six of the group ordered quiches and two had toasted sandwiches. It was only when we ordered cakes that we were told that, for example, the baked cheesecake wasn’t available.  Surely, the server should alert one in advance to the lack of menu items.

 

My bobotie quiche was excellent, with a good amount of curried mince and a decent crust. The salad was fresh and delicious.

 

My dessert was an excellent apple crumble with a generous amount of firm yet pliant, well-cooked and not cloyingly sweet apple. My only, nit-picking, criticism would be that the crumble on top was too much of a lid and less of a baked crumble.

 

The wife, and some others, had the meringe(sic) (lemon meringue tart) and the portions were body doubles for the iceberg that  sank Titanic. It was also delicious.

 

The handwritten bill came to R1003,00, inclusive of beverages, before tip.

 

The food is good, though simple, the coffee is good, the service is efficient and friendly and, if you like hanging out in kitsch city, the atmosphere is great.

 

I suppose the owners intend the use of  “sjiek” as ironic but for me it backfires because people around here probably see this décor style as good fun and truly chic. 

 

It ain’t.