La Colombe is probably the most famous restaurant in South Africa. Some would say in all of Africa. Today the group has eight restaurants across the country. The expectations, naturally, were high.
Food is our Theatre, we hope you enjoy the show.
James Gaag, Executive Chef
They are not wrong.
Butter Station
La Colombe sits high up on Silvermist Estate in Constantia, about twenty to thirty minutes from Cape Town. Staff waiting by the parking area, the usual greeting, past the open kitchen, down to the dining floor. Think three Michelin star procedure. But Michelin is not in South Africa. Yet. Somebody has to pay for it.
We got a corner table by the window. Perfect linen, polished glassware, a glass of Billecart-Salmon Sous Bois on its way. First impressions? Ok, but not wow. And forget the view over the valley. All trees. I almost felt the need to go out with a chainsaw.
The server introduced herself the American way. “Hi, I am Jennifer, I will be your server tonight.” Off to a flying start. As engaging as a table at Nando’s.
Bread – Butter
We went all in. The Chef’s Menu with the Heritage wine pairing, the cellar experience, the lot. Last time we were in South Africa we wanted La Colombe, but it was fully booked. It still is, though my wife has a habit of refreshing availability pages, and tables do appear.
Then the show started.
It opened with a Silvermist vegetable garden and wild boar snacks. Then a wagon rolled out for the butter. A wall of combinations. We said salt, please. She put everything in anyway. It did not taste like butter at all.
I made butter as a teenager. Barbecue spice, pepper, lemon, parsley, frozen like a hockey puck onto a grilled steak.
Mine was better.
Tuna La Colombe
The Tuna “La Colombe” has been on the menu since 2014. It arrives in a branded tin you open yourself. Yellowfin tuna with avocado and micro herbs. It is clearly the dish the restaurant is most proud of. But the flavours were not there and did not come together.
A dish designed to be opened and photographed.
That became the pattern. Plate after plate, technically faultless, visually striking, and emotionally flat.
False Bay Market Fish
The wine pairing was mostly South African, which is why we went for it. Good wines, well chosen. We noticed the WSET pin on the sommelier’s jacket and tried to engage him. Told him he was in good company.
Not a chance. He just kept explaining everything. He did not listen to us. Not just him, really. Service could not go off script.
That is the thing with scripted service. It works brilliantly until someone asks a real question.
The showstoppers kept coming. A laser-cut topographic map with a specially blown carafe to fit it. Riedel glasses without feet, lying flat on the table. A giant bottle of Hartenberg “The Mackenzie” 2017 on a metal cradle, rolled into the dining room.
The whole restaurant stopped. The room loved it. And fair enough. This is exactly what La Colombe is designed to deliver.
Most guests do love it. We are just not most guests.
Salted Agave Station
Between courses, the Salted Agave arrived. A palate cleanser branded with the La Colombe name, stamped into the surface using a nitrogen-cold press. We had never seen the technique before. It was genuinely impressive.
More importantly, it was superb. Crisp, clean, and worked like the perfect palate cleanser. The one moment where the theatre and the taste were in harmony.
One dish. Out of an entire evening.
Salted Agave
No phones allowed. A sensory experience, they said. Something secret and exclusive. It is not. Google it. The pictures online are curated wide-angle shots that make it look far grander than it is. Another hush-hush showstopper. Meh.
A staff member took our phones and camera, but instead of carrying them down with us, he handed them off to someone else in the restaurant. We found this off-putting.
The cellar was small. The other sommelier drew a sample with a pipette from a Klein Constantia barrel and poured two glasses. Two cheese desserts sat on fungus-like protrusions from the wall.
Then came the instructions. Place your glass here. Sip. Taste the cheese dessert. Back to the wine. Another piece. Try again. Do you notice the difference?
Being told how to taste wine and food step by step was like being handed instructions for boiling water.
Somewhere during service, I asked the waiter if it was alright to photograph the kitchen. She said yes, no problem. I always ask. But I was not in the mood.
As we were leaving, the server offered to take pictures of us together with the kitchen in the background. I said no thank you. She had misread the situation.
How do you review a restaurant you leave halfway through? You cannot. But here is why we did.
We had just come from La Colombe the night before and were not exactly thrilled. Still, we had Epice booked and were hoping for a different story.
The name comes from the French word for spice. It is part of the La Colombe group and located at the hotel Le Quartier Français in Franschhoek. The concept is a spice journey — India, Spain, Japan, Mexico, and beyond.
The staff were friendly and more relaxed than at La Colombe. No complaints there.
Another showstopper
It started with a trolley. Thirty-six spices in small boxes. A waiter pointing and naming each one. Well rehearsed and clearly a moment the restaurant is proud of. I could never have done it with my goldfish memory. My wife probably already knew all the names and could have picked them out blindfolded.
Then came the Cape Point tuna with avocado, asada, and jalapeño. Different name, different plate, same concept. Tuna, avocado, piped dots.
Put it next to the Tuna “La Colombe” and, flavour-wise, you would struggle to tell which restaurant it came from. My wife spotted it immediately. The concept is copy-pasted across the group.
When we asked what oyster was being served, the answer was that they did not know. One simple question off script, and it fell apart here as well.
Perlamoen – Labneh – Sultana – Pork – Cape Malay and of course Nitrogen smoke…
Then came the walk to the kitchen counter for a taco snack. The same procedure as eight years ago, when the restaurant was still called La Petite Colombe.
Back at our table, we looked at each other and thought the same thing. So we stood up, made a spectacularly lame excuse, and left. Halfway through service.
Snobbish as hell, we know. But sometimes you have to pull the emergency brake.
Cape Point Tuna – Avocado – Asada – Jalapeno
We headed back to our room, took our wine, and ordered a cheese toasty from room service. Honestly? It tasted amazing.
That evening, sitting with our toasty and a glass of wine, we were starting to see a pattern. We cancelled the next night’s dinner at Protégé and our reservation at La Petite Colombe. Both part of the La Colombe group.
We had seen enough.
I almost feel for the chefs in these kitchens. They are skilled, and the dishes look flawless. But to run someone else’s script? That is a different story. I could be wrong, but that was the feeling. This was a sleek restaurant production.
Cape Town’s food scene is alive with restaurants that cook with conviction and heart. We found them on this trip. La Colombe and Epice were not among them.
We are the two percent.
It is a no for both of them
Not for us
La Colombe
Epice
