Melville eatery Mamasan's upmarket take on a Gatsby fails to hit the spot for Jono Cane
Wedged between the closed-down bottle store and the corner cafe, Melville eatery Mamasan is a burst of new energy on the old block.
Opened by a group of stylish Capetonian friends late last year, the restaurant's style is Cape Malay cuisine meets Bladerunner, meets three-o'clock-in-the-morning sunshine rotis on the pavement after dancing to rave music at EVOL, meets the pharmacy in Natural Born Killers, meets your granny's melktert.
The interiors look a bit like the waiting area of a panel beater in Randburg that have been turned into a gay strip club for the night by a bunch of drug/drag queens high on tartrazine and with a modest budget. This description, in case you were wondering, is supposed to be a compliment, or backhanded compliment at the very least.
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I began my meal with a classic gin and tonic, of which there were a number of varieties. After that, red wine was difficult to choose from a list I found wanting in either breadth or depth.
The menu is based on reinterpreted, gourmet-ised, and sometimes just plain classic versions of home-style Cape Malay food - gesmoorde snoek, Gatsbys, tripe, bobotie, malva pudding doughnuts. I ordered the ''gourmet" Gatsby.
As legend has it, the Gatsby was invented between 1974 and 1976 by one Rashaad Pandy, the owner of Super Fisheries in Athlone, Cape Town.
The French baguette filled with ''slap" chips, spice, sauce, salad and meat is a classic at local lunch spots all over the country. The appeal is threefold: it is filling, it is yummy, and it is cheap.
I was disappointed to find that the gourmet version at Mamasan was neither satisfying, amazingly tasty, nor a bargain. Like a gay strip club without the strippers.
I'm not opposed, in principle, to the idea of a grass-fed steak Gatsby with free-range eggs and chips fried in clean oil. I am well aware of what goes into the polony used for a classic R50 Gatsby, and it's not meat.
However, I want to feel full afterwards; I want to wonder how I will handle the unwieldy foot-long without dripping sauce on my crotch. I want more chips, more meat, more eggs, more atchar, more bread.
I want the strip club aesthetics - with the happy ending, too.
NEED TO KNOW
When to go: Friday dinner, when Melville is full of energy and noise.
Who to take: A pack of friends, if anyone.
What not to do: Don't order the Gatsby; rather go for the fried hake or pineapple peri-peri chicken.
What to drink: A classic gin and tonic.
Who you'll see: Local Melvillites and hipsters.
How much you need: R200
Address: No 1, 7th St, Melville, Joburg
• This article was originally published in The Times.
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