Hidden behind an dark, open door crowned with a tiger head, Libertino is hard to find if you don’t know what you’re looking for. The giant tiger head my indicate otherwise, but if a car is parked outside, the low lit street covers the entrances of the street’s purveyors.
Luckily, I’d visited Le Pickle so knew where to park when a new friend suggested we met for dinner. As a last minute idea, I was guilty of not having a reservation when I arrived. Luckily for me, the polite and warm hostess was able to seat me at a recently vacated table for two.
Considering I was having dinner with someone I’d only met twice before in a bar setting (with a mutual friend), it was ironic that I’d recently watched a video about Marco Pierre White sharing his opinion on how unromantic restaurants had become in modern times.
As I waited for my “date” to arrive, I observed the decor. Vintage handbags hanging from the picture rail, while white ostrich feather lampshades pose like inverted skirts, casking shapes onto the rich red walls. Libertino is all low light and deep shadows, punctuated by stacked, dripping white candles and florescent signs. A very romantic restaurant indeed.
Cocktails Worth their Weight in Gold (Literally)
Let’s get the price shock out the way: cocktails here aren’t cheap. When mine arrived I wondered if the server had drunk half of it on the way over (that’s a joke). But I was surprised at the quality for R180.
In saying that, the cocktail was like a mini-performance as mine wasn’t rimmed with salt or sugar, but gold glitter! This resulted in us switching drinks so we could both have a touch of gold “lippie”, which was actually quite fun. It also didn’t taste like anything I’d had before; bold, bitter, unexpected. So for the entertainment and unique experience, I’m happy to support the R180.
Small Plates (That Aren’t Really that Small)
Libertino menu is entirely veggie and pescatarian, which I didn’t realise ahead of time. I’m also gluten-intolerant so as someone who doesn’t eat seafood or wheat, my choices were more limited. In saying that, the moment the complimentary flat bread arrived at the table I knew I was doomed. Soft, with a slight chew, toasty and delicious, I knew I was in for a world of pain (and pleasure) as I threw my diet to the wind.
The concept at Libertino is sharing plates, but the portions turned out to be far more generous than I expected – definitely enough for two or even three people to get a proper taste.
After the flat bread, we tucked into the burrata salad. Burrata, heirloom tomatoes, fresh basil, EVO (extra virgin olive oil), balsamic glaze, flaky sea salt, cracked black pepper and ciabatta (R155). I was attacked by this ciabatta when it jumped into my mouth. It was terrible. So terrible that all 4 slices disappeared. Fresh, creamy, sweet and acidic, delicious. Tough times.
Next we had the artichoke dish; flame grilled artichokes, grated parmesan, served with velvety saffron-infused aiol and topped with capers and spring onion (R95). For this dish, I felt the sauce overpowered the artichokes.
Full transparency: South African LOVES sauce, more sauce that I personally enjoy so many may love this just as it is. I really just wanted to taste that charred artichoke a little more than I did.
The Main Act
Next came the Vongole – handmade spaghetti, clams, white wine, garlic, parsley, EVO with a touch of lemon (R140/R240), which was beautifully presented and got enthusiastic nods from Kim.
Unfortunately, the mushroom pasta (truffle fettuccine) was less successful. With handmade fettuccine, creamy truffle sauce, shiitake mushrooms, Parmigiano and topped with black truffle shavings, the truffle aroma was wonderful, but the dish itself was dry (R100/R220).
I found myself thinking about how to reconstitute it the next day (as I was struggling through it), and that’s when I realised I should probably say something. I jokingly teased our server that an Uber driver must have dropped that dish off, because it couldn’t possibly have come from the same kitchen as everything else.
Cheeky, but the staff know how to handle their patrons so it was all in good fun and they were really great about it with the manager coming over to the table to enquire. They genuinely listened to my feedback and, respectfully, did not charge me for the plate of food which I was appreciate of as I was sincerely not enjoying it.
A Sweet Ending
To console myself, I ordered a classic Tiramisu for dessert (R120), although I did “hum and ha” over the Decadent Chocolate Mousse (R96/R195 – this serves 3), which is made with EVO and flaky sea salt. I will definitely have that one another time.
The tiramisu was fine, not better than Rome (don’t kill me, but that’s what food education does to you!). It tasted lovely, but there was quite a bit more cake than cream – and I lean firmly towards the creamy side of the tiramisu spectrum. Still, a satisfying finish to an engaging meal.
Final Thoughts
Libertino isn’t the most obvious spot to find, but that’s part of the charm. The service stood out: from the moment they squeezed me in without a booking to the way they handled my feedback, it felt polished, but personal. While the cocktails are steep, the quality, theatre and generosity of the food balance it out.
We both had 1 cocktail, a glass of wine and a bottle of sparking water (shared) and essentially split the bill. I paid R650, including a tip for the server (which was about 12%).
All in all, Libertino is a dark, romantic little hideaway for pescatarians and vegetarians wanting something special – and a spot where even the cocktails get their own spotlight.
| Libertino | Setting | Cocktails | Food | Service | Value |
| Presentation | 10/10 | 10/10 | 7/10 | – | 9/10 |
| Comfort/Taste | 9/10 | 7/10 | 8/10 | 10/10 | – |
| TOTAL: 88% | 20/20 | 17/20 | 15/20 | 10/10 | 9/10 |
