My friend and I climbed the stairs at 99 Harrington Street, leading the way to Galjoen. We stepped into a large, open space — the kind of room that breathes — and were seated in a cosy corner beneath some of the beautiful fish prints that line the walls. We could see the chefs across the counter in their open kitchen, and our excitement only grew.
We started with drinks: a classic Negroni for me and a glass of Rosé for my friend — reliable favourites that really set the tone. Then came a round of off-menu snacks that immediately got our mouths watering.
First up: Saldanha Bay oysters. Served simply with lemon, olive oil, and black pepper, they were sweet and creamy — perfect. We were thrilled to learn we could order more. Two homemade hot sauces sat on the table — one a smoked jalapeño, the other a fermented red chilli that packed a punch.
Next came a yellowfin tuna tartare, spiced with Cape Malay flavours and paired with a curry emulsion. It was served with sweet potato chips dusted with ginger. The contrast between the fresh fish and bold spice was fantastic — light yet rich, full of umami. I might’ve been caught licking the plate by one of the chefs, and I wish I could say I was embarrassed. But I’m not.
Our bread course was another standout. A grilled roosterkoek arrived alongside a rolled bread laminated with smoked snoek pâté and roasted red peppers. But the bread was just the beginning. We were also served a spicy, creamy West Coast mussel dish in a sauce so good we kept dunking everything into it. Alongside it came a roasted garlic skordalia with a green olive salsa — subtle, comforting, with no garlic sharpness. The salsa brought the salty lift it needed. I hate to make bold claims, but it might’ve been the best bread course we’ve had so far. Maybe.
What stood out just as much as the food was the mood of the kitchen. The chefs were smiling, laughing, and genuinely enjoying themselves. And with every new course, a different team member would come to our table, explain the dish, and share a bit of their personality, which is something truly special to experience.
Then came a light course: steamed hake and shiitake mushrooms, served in a clear broth made with seaweed and smoked fish, finished with ginger and spring onion oil. The broth was delicate and smoky, packed with flavour, but nothing overwhelmed the fish. The hake was tender and flaky, and the mushrooms brought a quiet earthiness to it all.
We followed that with a sweet melon sorbet palate cleanser. It was subtle and clean, with just enough flavour to get us ready for what came next.
The “steak and chips” course was next — though not what you’d expect. The “steak” was a braaied swordfish grilled to perfection with those bold, charred marks. It had been marinated in a honey basting and was served with a green peppercorn sauce. On the side: crispy pommes Anna with a coriander seed emulsion, biltong pickled onions, and yellowfin tuna fish floss. The potatoes were crisp-edged, buttery, and rich — a classic French dish reimagined and one of the best things we ate that night.
Oddly enough, in a course full of standout components, what really surprised me was the salad. A simple gem lettuce salad with pickled cucumber, onion, feta, and a fynbos vinaigrette — but done with such precision and balance that it became the cornerstone of the dish. So often an afterthought, this salad was anything but.
Our final listed course was dessert: churros. Warm, cinnamon-dusted churros served with roasted quince and coconut ice cream, frozen coconut, and a tennis biscuit crumble. The churros were bigger than expected — light and fluffy, like deep-fried clouds — and the cinnamon sugar stuck to my fingers just like it should. The quince and coconut ice cream was a dreamy pairing, and the tennis biscuit crumble? A perfect nostalgic touch.
As we prepared to leave, we were treated to one last little bite: a passionfruit s’more. It felt like a petite four by way of memory lane. Nostalgia is something the team at Galjoen (and the other Harrington Street restaurants) do better than most. Their food is inventive, polished, and modern — but it’s those thoughtful touches, like tennis biscuits and roosterkoek, that bring it home.
There’s something deeply comforting about being reminded of what you love through flavour — not just good food, but familiar food done incredibly well. And that’s something I think we could use a lot more of. So, I suggest calling them now before they get booked up; I’m already making plans to go back again.
Where: 99 Harrington St, District Six, Cape Town
Phone: 079 093 0559