Rocket is simplistic, chic and trendy. Not a doily in site.
Also, always a good sign is when the ratio of waiters to tables is not 10:1. A friendly bunch running around with happy smiley faces on. Even though I congratulated one of the waitresses on her non-existent pregnancy, she still happily took me to my table without using one of their knives to slit my throat.
I want to have fun here. I’m going to enjoy my meal with a lot of alcohol and I’m going to look really good doing it under perfectly dim lighting.
Their menu is diverse and disgustingly delicious. Their starters are my kind of starters. Lots of little nibbly bits that make you think you’re not eating a lot, but in fact, you’re completely overdoing it and are able sit there in delicious denial. Camembert phyllo pastry twigs with berry sauce. Get out of town. Once you’ve demolished those bad boys, stick your fork in your partner’s haloumi fingers and finish them off while he’s in the bathroom.
For mains I suggest the ostrich fillet served with a cream, green peppercorn and blackcurrant sauce. I clearly am not on any sort of diet as I also ate most of my partner’s chilli steak. All washed down with a bottle of Haute Cabriere Chardonnay Pinot Noir. And yes, while I’m well aware that this particular wine is best paired with fish and chicken, I like to drink it with everything I eat. Muesli even.
If you don’t do what I did and decide it was of the utmost importance to drink several shooters and then work your way through their cocktail menu, you could actually get away with a fairly decent bill. Starters ranging between R35 and R48 and mains between R70 and R110.
A night guaranteed of good service and good food. Also great for taking your ten loudest friends out. Noise, they don’t mind. Me telling the manager I thought he was cute, was also not frowned upon.
Rocket was reviewed by Baglett. Read her tea-snortingly funny blog here.