Shop Eight

So, it's been a while. How are you? I'm doing ok.

 

 

This past year or...so has been a tough one for me. Somewhere in there I lost my mojo when it came to writing. I still ate, obviously. And I still cooked, although not quite so creatively. But I just wasn't feeling the writing part. Life just got in the way.  But then sometimes something sneaks up and makes you want to talk about it. And when you're away on business, and all by yourself, the only way to talk about things is to write them down. To share them with all you guys.

 

 

So here we are. In Christchurch. Formerly the Garden City, now known as the Quake City. It's like being in a zombie movie, but without the zombies. There are fallen buildings all around, streets whose insides jut up from beneath the earth, rubble left, right and centre, and a general feeling of exhaustion. It's not the happiest place.  But then, like any other disaster zone, there are the daisies that rise up amongst the rubble, a sign of hope and of happiness. In Christchurch these come in the form of pop up art installations and eateries, bars and bistros. They're good things amongst a whole bunch of not so good things.

 

 

One such good thing is Shop Eight. Set on the funky, retro-fronted New Regent Street, Shop Eight is a small, but perfectly formed piece of home in a disaster city. Their beer and wine are locally sourced, as is most of the menu with a haphazard yet homely décor and furniture by Rekindle who use repurposed wood products - all equally important elements in a city that is so eagerly seeking to re-identify itself post-quake.

 

 

 

My first visit was on a warm summer's evening, post-run in Hagley Park, and I enjoyed an expertly cooked piece of fish in a light and fragrant tomato broth. This was matched with a  crisp pinot gris and all washed up with a mushy and comforting pear crumble, just that touch of sweetness to send me on my way. It was just what I needed after a weekend of beers & burgers with the husband and set me in the right frame of mind to attack three more days of work away from home.

 

 

On visit number two I was so kindly welcomed by the host, who recalled my last visit even though it had been over two months previous. On a cool Autumn evening (who am I kidding, I'm Aucklander, it may as well have been mid-Winter!) I curled up above the heater and slurped on a nectarine juice and dug into the terrine: pork's head and black pudding, fresh figs, radish and crispy baby beets, all the while eavesdropping on tales of travels in Argentina. It was all I could do not to run screaming to strap on my backpack.

 

 

The following night I was back again, seeking refuge from the cold and an ever-growing inbox. This time the fennel seed spaghetti called my name with its broccoli flakes, breadcrumbs and delightful dose of cheese, a glass of pinot noir by my side and a bowl of fresh greens for good measure. It lined my tum and warmed my soul, but still something inside me called for more and a custard tart with poached figs was devoured before I made the final stumble towards my lonely hotel room.

 

 

 

As I left this evening I muttered to the server that I couldn't choose between the spaghetti or the terrine when it came to favourites. "You'll just have to come back to tomorrow", he said. Would that I could. For my only complaint when it comes to Shop Eight (look, I made a poem!) is that it's so far from home. Although really, that makes it all the more special.

 

 

If you're in Christchurch, do stop by. You can find them at 8 New Regent Street.