[Disclosure: We paid in full at Braai. They didn’t know I was a blogger]
You smell and hear Braai before you see it, the unmistakeable aroma of fire and meat, and the upbeat music mixed with even more upbeat chatter of guests congratulating themselves on finding somewhere quite so unique.
Unless you’re wandering aimlessly around the countryside on the eastern side of the Isle of Wight, you have to be looking for Braai to find it. And look you should, given it’s some of the best food we had on the island. Tucked away in a barn on the Nunwell Estate just outside Brading, this pop-up restaurant isn’t necessarily open all the time, but is worth timing a visit to make sure you can get there.
Braai is the brainchild of Rob Oglander, whose family have apparently been custodians of the Nunwell Estate since 1120. Rob had always dreamed of replicating his love of South Africa’s Braai culture on the Isle of Wight and now he’s done just that, enlisting the help of head chef Alex Kimber who, with his team, use produce sourced from right on their doorstep to create a food-filled experience that really is worth the journey.
From the moment we walk in, we’re hooked. Long tables lend a communal feel that’s a bit like taking a step back in time, while the open kitchen gives you full view of Alex and his team cooking everything from huge meat platters to delicate shellfish, vegetables and breads over sizzling, leaping, angry flames. Forget needing live entertainment. Watching these guys tame what to a novice might look like a series of uncontrollable blazes, and cooking with easily as much precision as chefs in far more refined kitchen set-ups, is captivating as it gets.
If anywhere could get away with keeping a menu simple, it’s here. Yet Braai’s is pretty extensive, and while barbecue screams ‘meat’ to most of us, there’s plenty more on top. Sections include the meat-filled ‘from the farm’, with everything from lamb to brisket, pork belly and chicken. Then there’s fish, steaks, burgers, breads, ‘from the dairy’, ‘from the soil’ and grains and pulses. It’s a place for feasting, and that feasting is made even more easy with the addition of a selection of platters that incorporate a bit of everything.
As tempting as they are, we decide to go a la carte so we can customise our elements. The venue and food may feel rustic, but the same refinement in the cooking runs through the service and drinks list, with a bottle of rose recommended and delivered swiftly while we undertake the tough task of trying to work out how many dishes we may be able to devour and still be able to walk home.
Porthilly oysters with fire-torched beef tallow seem an obvious choice. Served on a bed of hay they’re sweet and smoky, the tallow adding another depth of richness. As much as I love oysters, they’re beaten by an enormous king scallop that’s been cooked in its shell, complete with all the joy that brings, then soaked in garlic butter and smothered liberally in a crumb made of bone marrow and herbs. So good that we immediately regret having agreed to share one.
Our meat choices have been cooked slowly over embers using beech wood from the estate. Twelve-hour smoked brisket is fall-apart and full of flavour, but it’s the lamb that wins my heart, roasted with garlic and rosemary and seasoned to perfect.
As tempting as it would be to stick only to the meat, steak and fish sections at a place like this, I’m convinced that with cooking this good the guys at Braai will make everything else sing just as sweetly. And indeed they do. Grilled flat bread has that perfect char from the braai that elevates it beyond your average offering. It’s pillowy soft, and the perfect vehicle to scoop up dollops of confit garlic hummus that’s punctuated with a bit of chew from toasted pine nuts.
A whole burrata is an obvious choice, and something we see on menus everywhere these days. But not with macerated Isle of Wight tomatoes, whose sweetness is emphasised by a spring onion oil and slightly bitter onion powder. It’s a dish where you need each mouthful to contain a bit of every element for the full experience, and offers a lighter, summery counterbalance to some of the heavier meat-based dishes.
Charred lettuce has more of that smoky depth that comes with being cooked over fire. Confit onion emulsion and cheddar add richness without being too much, and it’s another lighter, balancing dish. But it’s the new potatoes cooked over the braai that have me subtly moving the bowl towards myself so I don’t have to share. The right level of crispiness on the outside, yet soft and yielding inside, with more of that sweet, tangy confit onion, along with garlic and thyme. What’s not to like.
There’s a theme to the flavours in terms of ingredients that enhance the produce itself, yet each dish is subtly tweaked to ensure those flavours suit it and really do help it sing. A series of tried and tested combinations, but an attention to detail on what will work with what, and serve to emphasise – not overpower – the star of the show.
By the time we finish, the place is heaving. Couples, families, big groups, people with dogs, people with children. It’s a communal venue full of energy, made even more vibrant by the flames leaping in the background and the sheer efficiency and speed that the kitchen team seem to be able to relentlessly produce dish and dish, regardless of the heat, and ensure each one has that same attention to detail.
With that in mind, Braai isn’t just a great restaurant in its own right. Its a reminder that the days of barbecues and fire cooking being pants in the country are long gone. We have some of the greatest fire chefs going, and I reckon these guys are up there with them.
