FYN

5th Floor - Speakers Corner

37 Parliament St

Cape Town, 8001

South Africa

BY NEAL MARTIN | SEPTEMBER 29, 2023

The Food:

Yellowtail nigiri, Kosho salsa, aged shoyu/Mozambican crab with rice and seaweed salad, furikake/Lambert’s Bay abalone with truffle kaeshi

Burnt mushroom custard with Hokkaido milk bun

Binchotan seared gamefish, tempura dune spinach and pomelo chirizu

Robata-grilled springbok leg, pepperdew, black cardamom mealie pap with Cape Mountain sage

Poached kingklip, rack seaweed, crayfish espuma and black caviar

Wild mushroom fregola, globe artichoke, hazelnut, nasturtium and vegetable jibuni sauce

Cape Wagyu with kabocha, KZN black truffle and pumpkin hollandaise

Madagascan chocolate, mascarpone, pumpkin seed/Rice ice cream and shoyu syrup/Burnt pineapple with yuzu

The Wines:

Visiting South Africa last year, there was a vivid conversation about the hottest ticket in town… FYN. Note the capitals, and for your information, its pronunciation, “fain,” inspired by “fynbos,” the wild and wondrous scrubland that plays host to a wild variety of flora and fauna. This excitement was in the wake of FYN being voted 37 in the “World’s 50 Best Restaurants”, a big deal for a country whose culinary excellence is woefully under-appreciated on the global stage. Unfortunately, I only learned of this accolade upon arriving, and subsequent attempts to secure a table failed because the waiting list was long. Returning one year later, I prioritized securing a table in advance to find out for myself what the fuss was about.

The FYN interior

South African chef Peter Tempelhoff and Jennifer Hugé, ex-La Colombe in Constantia, are the duo behind FYN, which opened its doors in 2018. Ashley Moss is the head chef. The restaurant is housed on the fifth floor of a 19th-century silk factory in central Cape Town. I must admit that it took a couple of minutes to locate the entrance. This part of the city is not dangerous, though tourists are best advised just to catch a taxi. Better to be safe than sorry. Guests take a small lift up to the restaurant reception, where I receive a typically warm South African welcome. It is a capacious restaurant with a mezzanine on one side, below which a drinks bar is installed. The eye-catching ceiling is festooned with what looks like hundreds of miniature flying saucers. The pastry section is planted right into the middle of the restaurant, and an open kitchen lies on the far side, creating a backdrop of action and noise. It looks modern and chic. The décor instantly conjures the sensation of being at one of South Africa’s top spots.

The menu is basically Japanese kaiseki meets South African cuisine. To my tastebuds, that is a marriage made in heaven. The menu also has a strong ethos of sustainability, sourcing ingredients from sustainable producers and even training chefs to forage themselves. This resulted in FYN being awarded the Flor de Caña Sustainable Restaurant Award this year. There is a “reduced” and “full” Experience Menu, though I cannot imagine many opting out of the full experience if you’ve made all this effort to get a table. From a tourist’s perspective, carrying UK currency, at 1,875 Rand for the full tasting menu, that’s about £80 or $100 per person. These days you couldn’t buy a fish finger sandwich for that in London. Of course, everything is relative, and for this part of the world, that is top end.  

Yellowtail nigiri, Kosho salsa, aged shoyu/Mozambican crab with rice and seaweed salad, furikake/Lambert’s Bay abalone with truffle kaeshi

Certainly, the trio of starters of yellowtail nigiri with Kosho salsa and aged shoyu, Mozambican crab with rice and seaweed salad and most of all, the Lambert’s Bay abalone with truffle kaeshi, are strong starters, evidence of their meticulous sourcing. Indeed, I am reliably informed that Tempelhoff makes regular trips to Japan to research its endless culinary scene.

Binchotan seared gamefish, tempura dune spinach and pomelo chirizu

The gamefish sashimi with tempura dune spinach and pomelo chirizu is fine, though unfairly, I can’t help comparing it with the sashimi eaten around Japan just a couple of weeks earlier. Here, I just feel that the pomelo chirizu overpowers the gamefish.

Robata-grilled springbok leg, pepperdew, black cardamom mealie pap with Cape Mountain sage

The robata-grilled springbok leg with pepperdew peppers and black cardamom mealie pap with Cape Mountain sage is delicious. Mealie pap is ostensibly South African porridge made from oats, and it is a nice touch, incorporating a dish that much of the population eats for breakfast each morning.

Poached kingklip, rack seaweed, crayfish espuma and black caviar

The poached kingklip with rack seaweed and a crayfish espuma, ceremoniously poured into the bowl at our table, comes with a generous blob of black caviar. This is a subtle dish that works very well, the salinity of caviar driving the dish without overwhelming the moist, succulent fish. The espuma is so well seasoned and delicious that I would mop up with a spare bit of bread if there has been one on the table.

Wild mushroom fregola, globe artichoke, hazelnut, nasturtium and vegetable jibuni sauce

Cape Wagyu with kabocha, KZN black truffle and pumpkin hollandaise

I would love to rave about the Cape Wagyu with kabocha, KZN black truffle and pumpkin hollandaise. The problem is all mine. Just don’t even think about eating Wagyu if you’ve spent time in Japan, where the Wagyu literally melts on the tongue. You just cannot find that elsewhere, which is why I never choose Wagyu outside Japan. But the pumpkin hollandaise is delicious.

Madagascan chocolate, mascarpone, pumpkin seed/Rice ice cream and shoyu syrup/Burnt pineapple with yuzu

The dinner ends as it began, as a trio: Madagascan chocolate, mascarpone and pumpkin seed, rice ice cream and shoyu syrup and burnt pineapple with yuzu. They do not possess the dazzling intricacy that you might find from a top pastry chef, and maybe the pineapple is superfluous. But the rice ice cream is delicious, and I can devour another of the Madagascan chocolate and mascarpone.

FYN has a very fine wine list that naturally cherry-picks some of the Cape’s most coveted labels. Of course, since South African wines have not succumbed to the price-gouging that afflicts Bordeaux and Burgundy, there are some real gems. On this occasion, we had pre-arranged to bring our own bottles, though it is only because my host is a long-term friend of the owners. I believe that BYO is only permitted in exceptional circumstances, and frankly, you’d be missing out on what the Cape has to offer.

We started with two wines from winemaker Jessica Saurwein. The 2018 Riesling Chi was her maiden vintage. It is still youthful on the nose with orchard fruit and light petrol-like scents, not complex but armed with admirable purity. The palate has a pleasant, slightly oily texture, with notes of lime, grapefruit, and tropical fruit manifesting towards the finish with pineapple and fresh Anjou pear. Drink this now if you wish, but it will easily give another decade of drinking pleasure. The 2018 Pinot Noir Nom is a wine I tasted last year, but I might have underrated it back then. I was really taken with this wine: less earthy than before, brighter with vivid red fruit and just the faintest of peppery notes. The palate still offers a silky-smooth texture, but again, this bottle was imbued with greater vitality and tension on the finish, reminding me of a Volnay. Wonderful.

I must admit that coming to South Africa, I did not anticipate drinking two post-war vintages of Mouton-Rothschild side-by-side, including one I had never tasted before. In fact, it is my first time drinking a 1948 First Growth, perhaps because it is a vintage more known for a cluster of Right Bank legends such as Cheval Blanc and Vieux-Château-Certan. I must admit to being intrigued by this particular growing season that was not as disastrous as 1946, but that has always been overshadowed by vintages on either side.

The 1948 Mouton-Rothschild acquits itself well in what was a cool summer that begat tannic, masculine wines. According to Michael Broadbent, it was green in its youth and required 20 years of bottle age. It remains fresh and well-defined on the nose with dark berry fruit, cigar smoke and light tertiary aromas. There is certainly no shortfall of fruit, more a Pauillac that must suffice with ‘rationed’ fruit that year. After all, it was born amid post-war austerity. What it lacks in substance, it makes up for with impressive balance and no evidence of greenness. Perchance that has been subsumed into wine over several decades? You could quibble that this Mouton is a bit conservative and lacks the flair of other vintages. Yet it has a stately presence, one befitting a First Growth in all but name. The 1949 Mouton-Rothschild is a better wine than the 1948. I must admit that though this was a sound bottle, it did not reveal the spectral beauty of the previous bottle at the Four Seasons five years ago. Yet it has an entrancing bouquet, quite sensual and generous for a 1949 with those traits of graphite and delicatessen permeating vestiges of red fruit. The palate is medium-bodied with fine tannins, extant red fruit that is precocious and maybe more like a 1947 in personality. A peacock’s tail on the finish leaves you drinking in awe. Outstanding, even if not the perfection that this Pauillac can be on its day.

We finished with a sweet wine. The 2019 Lost & Found from Alheit Vineyards is Chris Alheit’s straw wine made from 100% Muscat d’Alexandria. There are fig and quince aromas on the delineated nose. It feels a little more cohesive than when I first tasted this last year. The palate is beautifully balanced with Seville orange and tangerine, viscous in texture with a penetrating finish. Fabulous.

I thoroughly enjoyed FYN. I appreciated the buzz about the place. There were a couple of dishes where, with background knowledge of Japanese cuisine, I might tweak a couple of things. Still, overall, this kaiseki-Cape fusion is imaginative and, most importantly, delicious. As I mentioned before, I was prejudiced by my recent trip to Japan and an obsessive pursuit of detail that must be impossible to transfer to a team of chefs, however hard-working. Then again, this is not pure Japanese gastronomy, so looking back, I should not expect that level of detail and precision. What I cannot find in Japan are those wonderful ingredients that you only find in the Cape that give FYN a unique twist. As I said, for anyone visiting the Cape, it represents outstanding value for money, though be advised that you must book in advance as demand for a seat is high. Alongside Pot Luck Club and the aforementioned La Colombe, FYN should be on your must-do places to dine when visiting Cape Town.

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