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“Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland is an isthmus navigated on and between its ahi tipua – volcanoes – and the two moana -oceans – it holds apart. As a city it is new, and it is remaking itself like a teenager continually rewriting their own story. At its best our city is as delicious as any on earth; a place of excellence delivered with informality, amidst the abundance of a tenuous but exquisite nature.”
Chef-owner Samir’s punchy Lebanese food is delivered into a scrum of restaurants, prostitutes, wastrels and art students m, set in century-old arcade looking into the treetops and cityscape of the inner city. Book – but Pici or others if you can’t get in.
We made these four restaurants that share the same old buildings, a knot of deliciousness in a Britomart district filled with it. Alma or Amano across the road if none of these sing to you.
We made these four restaurants that share the same old buildings, a knot of deliciousness in a Britomart district filled with it. Alma or Amano across the road if none of these sing to you.
We made these four restaurants that share the same old buildings, a knot of deliciousness in a Britomart district filled with it. Alma or Amano across the road if none of these sing to you.
We made these four restaurants that share the same old buildings, a knot of deliciousness in a Britomart district filled with it. Alma or Amano across the road if none of these sing to you.
Auckland is a sort of South Pacific collider; Blue Rose, Metita and Tala represent the spectrum of a city’s love for the palette of its scattered nations, from Pulusami and Lu’au pies to fine dining.
Auckland is a sort of South Pacific collider; Blue Rose, Metita and Tala represent the spectrum of a city’s love for the palette of its scattered nations, from Pulusami and Lu’au pies to fine dining.
Auckland is a sort of South Pacific collider; Blue Rose, Metita and Tala represent the spectrum of a city’s love for the palette of its scattered nations, from Pulusami and Lu’au pies to fine dining.
Ooh-fa is just a little pizza restaurant on a commuter street, but it is just so relentlessly delicious, its hosts feel like they are welcoming you into their home, and eating there always feels like going to a little party. Don’t skip the sides.
Birkenhead is a quiet suburb close to the city but that feels almost like a beach town. Go for the martini and twice baked cheese soufflé at The Engine Room and then eat there, or at either Duo or Uno – it doesn’t matter which, they are all delicious and happy.
A cocktail bar without questions about what you love and loathe, rather than menus, and humans who care as much about drinks and chefs do about food. Dark, layered and a great room for assignation. Caretaker in Britomart is the original sister.
That too-rare mix of bar, club and restaurant, served up amidst misshapen ceramic lamps, old timber sarking and pop stars dancing with their girlfriends.
A sibling of Blue, owned and run and fronted with the same love and care, this time meted out to a skinny dark room and sidewalk stools in the sun, used as slaloms by glorious drag queens making their way to an evening.
Blue is tiny, it is a collective, it is a calm room, it is filled with candles, it is built from love by kids who have hospitality in their bloodstream and know no other way than to love their guests and their craft. Go for coffee in the morning or wine at dusk.
They’re just so lovely. And it’s a treat to have such a lovely wine bar in the suburbs. Carry on to Cazador and they are just as lovely, the drinks more diverse, and the dinner outrageous. The courtyard out the back is lovely in summer.
We made these little careful rooms with love over a decade, wrapped in clay brick and woven into the old city that surrounds them.
It is cheap, its rooms are sparse and raw in a good way, its in a suburb that feeds straight into the city, and it has a delicious and lively restaurant and a great little bar with a terrace in the evening sun.
It looks like a great hotel, but you can’t stay here: Homeground is the epicentre of this city’s care for those who don’t have anywhere else to sleep. It is over-stretched and under-funded, held together by staff and volunteers who are heroes of our city. This ‘ambulance at the bottom of the cliff’ must be honoured alongside the glittering delights atop that cliff.
Japanese-kiwi Yuka O’Shannesy’s curation, commission and exhibition gathers together together beautiful people, craft, design and art objects on a street scattered with gems – not least its candle making neighbour, Curio Noir.
A young bookshop made with love and care, tailed closely by Unity Books in the city, The Women’s Bookshop (near Public Record in Ponsonby) and the endlessly lovely Timeout in Mt Eden.
Muse is portal to beautiful local designers like Maggie Marilyn and Harris Tapper, and a great launchpad from which to explore a few blocks of treasures triangulated by the Scotties boutique, Milly’s kitchen shop and Tessuti homeware store – studded with libations between, and beautiful humans like Robert Niwa and Chris Vovan at Crane Brothers.
Britomart is a piece of city we have remade over two decades, and the markets are the epicentre of its Saturday mornings. Stay in the hotel then use them as a morning launchpad for a day in the city – explore Britomart from Wonder Journal to Karen Walker then range across to Yu Mei and Aotea Cosmetics, or a ferry to Waiheke Island – eat at Tantalus or Man o’War there.
The gallery has become wonderful, rich with well curated shows that collide global heavyweights with our own beautiful complex history, present and future. Drop-in life drawing classes on Friday lunchtimes are beautiful and free, and cross the road to the enduring Fingers, gallery shop for some of the nation’s best jewellers.
Piha is a sublime beach: tough, dangerous, pressed up against forested hills, its black sand super-heated by the sun. But all of that makes its beautiful. Whatipu if you want to sense something even deeper, Muriwai if you want wilder. Swim between the flags or die.
It is insane that in the middle of a city of 1.5 million you can swim and lie on sunny, near-empty, tree lined beaches. But you can. So you should. Check online for high tide and good water quality.
Ours is a city made of and upon volcanoes. An early morning ascent of Maungawhau lays out the city in yellow dawn light, while Maungakiekie lays out both harbours that define our isthmus; its surrounding Cornwall Park threaded with pōhutukawa, pūriri, dafffils, cherry blossoms and a working farm.
Aotea for the wild, Kawau for the strange history, Tiritiri Matangi for the birds, Rangitoto for the volcanic edge, – there are more, and it doesn’t matter which: just choose a beautiful day – for Aotea at least a whole weekend – and go.
If heading for a drink at The Frog then go early and make time for the constellation of galleries that surround it – Artspace, Michael Lett, Tautai and Objectspace are the powerhouses
