Warm hospitality and dazzling cuisine at Upper Union

First impressions count. Walking into Upper Union, the restaurant attached to the Cape Cadogan boutique hotel in central Cape Town, the mood is bright and the welcoming smiles are genuine.

Elegance meets informality in the restaurant’s interior sections, which are predominantly jungle green, with snatches of fawn and mustard. Light twinkles from multiple chandeliers and the bevy of bottles lined up on the bar’s shelves, creating the feel of a casual but refined bolt-hole — like a place to play bridge, or have a pre-prandial cocktail and a Casino Royale flutter.

Located a stone’s throw from vibrant Kloof Street, my wife and I are wary of possible daytime noise intrusion, so we opt for the sanctuary of the courtyard where — white noise with waterlilies — a small water feature splashes soothingly.

Executive chef Amori Burger says hello; then she sits down with us and proceeds to ask for a glass of wine. The afternoon transforms into a wide-ranging conversation in which Upper Union’s dishes are overtures, intermezzi, arias and crescendos.

Indeed, the food sings. A glistening Saldanha oyster whets our appetites. A fingernail of naartjie rests on one rounded corner of the beautiful bivalve, a smidgen of lacto-fermented red chilli on the other, the whole speckled with minuscule brunoise-cut red onion. It’s a picture. “Go on, slurp it down,” Burger encourages.

Bread follows. A small kubaneh, a Yemenite Jewish loaf, has the shape and sheen of a pastry. Dipping into the accompanying spreads — a mebos and Klein River Gruberg blend, and an Indian makhani-spiced butter — I think I could eat six of these. “All around the world, a meal starts with breaking bread,” says Burger. “So welcome to my home.”

Can there be one, single perfect bite? Almost crowded out by the other, larger shared-plate starters is a Grana Padano shortbread cracker with shavings of Boland cheese, topped with a smoked mussel and garnished with that special red chilli lacto-ferment. It’s an outrageously more-ish morsel.

Snoek pâté rests on a Marie-Rose sauce, with a blanched prawn, wrapped in nasturtium leaf, standing tall in the coupe glass. The concept is a throwback to the shrimp cocktail of the 1970s, but the original dish’s sweetness is balanced, and improved, by the snoek’s smokiness and the herbaceous spiciness of the nasturtium and pea-shoot garnish. It’s also far prettier than Grandma’s garish pink concoction.   

But the highlight among the starters is the ubiquitous, supermarket-shelf beefsteak tomato, which is transformed to match its varietal name. Grilled, accompanied by a pesto of gentler, yellow Peruvian ají Amarillo chillies and generous slices of Langbaken, stout-soaked cheese from the Karoo, all topped with Brazil nut powder and chopped macadamias, it’s a revelation. Wordplay is involved, too; the tomato cuts like a succulent, rare fillet. The combination of sauces and toppings is a tango of SA biltong-like umami and South American chimichurri.

Real meat arrives in one of our mains. Bavette, or flank, rarely appears on menus. A butcher’s cut, it can be tricky to ensure tenderness. I envisage Burger thinking, “challenge accepted”. It’s delicious, the slightly gamey tones complemented by charred crimson grapes and nam jim jaew, a salty-sour-sweet Thai sauce, which is so good it deserves a spoon so that it can be slurped on its own.

Vegetable sides are a colour kaleidoscope. Purple pops in the thick-cut beetroot accompanied by plums, blueberries and raspberries, dusted with an herby, Persian-inspired sabzi powder. Kerrieboontjies showcases shades of autumn: green beans, tea-soaked sultanas, roasted coconut, spinach and macadamia phkali paste. Golden sweet potatoes are an even more delicious homage to boerekos. Slow roasted with honey, cinnamon and cumin, infused with saffron and marigold mustard, and sprinkled with Goji berries and shiso leaves, they are like dark, complex — and happily healthy — toffee apples.

Desserts are apple and dill mousse with quinoa, almond and olive oil ice cream, and chocolate hazelnut praline on Romany cream crumble with lime gel and edible flowers. The presentation detail is extraordinary; the melding of flavours and textures delightful: rich and sweet, but feathery-light, tart and tangy, too.   

Despite the magic wand of imagination, far-flung ingredients and decorative plating, there’s a simple foundation to Upper Union’s offering: generosity. I’m not surprised to hear that Burger has read Unreasonable Hospitality, the book about the rise of New York’s Eleven Madison Park from casual bistro to the world’s best restaurant, and has used the story to motivate and inspire her team. “Kyk, nou kry ek hoendervel!” (look, I’ve got goosebumps!), she laughs, pointing to her arm. More than just saying so, this is passion, skin deep.

The restaurant is characterised, too, by down-to-earth authenticity. A few glasses of Newton Johnson chardonnay down, I ask her what single dish she would cook to represent all the world’s cuisines. She ponders for only a second: “A stew, of course. All cultures eat stew.”

Upper Union was recently judged the Luxe 2025 Contemporary Restaurant of the Year, and Burger received the Culinary Rising Star award. We’ve enjoyed a meal of the highest quality, and sort of skip back to our car. Would the experience at Upper Union be as memorable sans the joie de vivre of Burger as chef-hostess? “Definitely. It’s 5 stars either way, and all round,” my wife smiles.   

• Upper Union, 3 Upper Union Street, Gardens, Cape Town, T 021 891 0360