SCAPE at Vrymansfontein: Hearty, refined and classically comforting

It’s easy to understand the idea behind the name of the restaurant at the Vrymansfontein farm in the Paarl region. The city stresses slipstreamed away as we escaped further from Cape Town, and, looking southward from one of the outside dining areas, SCAPE’s vista is stunning, a landscape of ochre and celadon farmland bounded by mountain ranges.

It’s a gently inclined stroll from the parking area, the sounds of clinking glasses and contented chatter and laughter creating a sense of anticipation. The restaurant is spacious, spread across outside patios and high-ceilinged, clean-lined interiors configured to capitalise on the 180º countryside view from all tables.

Vrymansfontein is a sister farm to Vondeling Wines, a 20-minute drive deeper into the Paardeberg mountains, and so the wine list comprises exclusively the Vondeling range. But the marque encompasses a substantive range of all major varietals and styles, from the accessible, easy drinking 2024 sauvignon blanc or rosé to 10- or 20-year cellared, flagship white Babiana or red Philosophie blends. We order the wooded Barrel Select 2023 chardonnay and settle into the tranquil weekday afternoon.

The Mediterranean-inspired menu is tight, with straightforward descriptions, the simplicity indicating a confident quest for perfection. It’s nonetheless difficult to choose; eventually we decide on appetisers of nduja with smoked burrata on bruschetta, and roasted celeriac and turnip.

The nduja — a spreadable, spicy Calabrian sausage — is a generous smear of redolent orange. I detect, possibly, the kitchen’s addition of another flavour layer, a hint of anchovy. The orbs of burrata are cool and soothing, like ice cream, a foil for the nduja’s mild heat.

The roasted celeriac and turnip dish is a palette of art-on-a-plate colours: fuchsia-like, pink-purple beetroot hummus; popping, chartreuse herb oil; earthy, autumnal shades of almond gremolata. Garnished with shaved radishes and rocket, the bitter root vegetables are elevated to the sublime.

Second dishes are beef carpaccio and halloumi. The beef is so paper-thin and translucent that the medallions merge meltingly into one another, making the picturesque dollops of aioli almost unnecessary. The pecorino shavings and capers, though, add sharp and tart contrast.

Served in a piping-hot cast iron skillet, the halloumi is blanketed with a chilli, coriander, black pepper and honey crumb. Cutting through the coppery exterior reveals the molten cheese; each bite is zingy but comforting, the dried coriander an inspired flavour complement. We reminisce about other, long ago sharing-plate first courses of meat and melted cheese in Rio de Janeiro’s churrascarias, except this is better — just as indulgent, but created with far more care and innovation.

Executive chef Kevin Grobler ambles over. He looks like a beaming, broad-shouldered Springbok, though I can’t pinpoint which one. He was the head chef at JAN in Nice, France, from its inception and when it was awarded its first Michelin star nine years ago. I wonder aloud whether he was JAN’s behind-the-scenes, unsung hero, but he is too modest to concur. He reminisces briefly about the experimental freedom he had during his four years at JAN, but, understandably, is keener to talk about Vrymansfontein and SCAPE. Grobler’s eyes flick towards the certificate affixed proudly alongside the open kitchen. It’s for a different, local star — recognition at the recent 2025 Eat Out/Woolworths Restaurant Awards — but proof that his ideas and his team’s commitment are paying off. He’s particularly animated about the restaurant’s local supplier network, details of which he swears me to secrecy, because the menu’s comparative simplicity “depends upon great produce, changing according to what’s available”, he says.

Surprisingly for a chef who has steered a Michelin-starred establishment, Grobler’s favourite dish at the moment is the rotisserie chicken, described on the menu as a “large plate” because it serves up to six people. “I love watching guests tuck in,” he smiles. “They have to get off their phones, their enjoyment includes actually chatting while relishing the food.”

Our main courses are slow-roasted pork belly and grilled sea bass. The pork is served atop a sage pesto, which is a bit of simple genius in its own right. The fish comes with olive tapenade and is dressed with caper oil. A side of roast potatoes solicits a fun query: are they crispier than the pork crackling? Heather is the family’s potato guru; she says these may be the best she’s ever had. “Anything that’s worth frying, well, triple fry it,” Grobler explains.

If there’s a problem with the idea of sharing plates, and dipping into one another’s mains, it’s that the line between relish and overindulgence becomes blurred. Also — and thankfully so — the servings at SCAPE are not of the fussy, faddish small-plate size. So we don’t sample the desserts, even though one of the menu’s few deviations from classic Mediterranean, the honey malabi — a Middle Eastern milk and rice pudding — with coffee, date, orange, candied almond granita, sounds enticing.

Nor can we manage a wine tasting, though we admire the range on display, and the late afternoon’s panoramic horizon, from the tasting centre adjoining the restaurant. Then, we think we notice UK-based international wine master Tim Atkin striding in purposefully.

Later, back at home, an Instagram search confirms that Atkin is indeed in the Cape, and has also just dined at SCAPE. Whatever scores he decides to give the Vondeling wines, it seems certain he enjoyed his meal as much we did.

• SCAPE, Vrymansfontein Farm, Suid-Agter Paarl Road, Paarl, T 082 617 4903 or 021 020 1499