Chef Jan Hendrik van der Westhuizen’s new Cape Town eatery is not subtle. And that, very deliberately, is the point.
In a world that feels increasingly anxious — headlines heavy, futures uncertain, joy often rationed — Le Bistrot de Jan opts for something almost radical: excess. Not the careless kind, but the kind that understands pleasure as a necessary indulgence, not a guilty one.
Set inside the revamped InterContinental Table Bay Cape Town at the V&A Waterfront, the room commits fully to the notion. Deep-blue walls, plush velvet banquettes, chandeliers and oversized floral displays create a backdrop against which starched white tablecloths are set with classic silverware and cut-crystal glasses. This is a dining room designed to be relished. The clink of glasses is loud. The lighting is flattering. The atmosphere is sexy.
A live band moves through the restaurant during service, not tucked away as ambience but actively part of the experience. It shifts the energy of the room, loosens the pace of dinner and turns eating into a show. This is not a quiet, inward-looking space. It’s social, theatrical, and confident in its own grandiose scale.
The food follows suit: classic French bistro cooking with a side of local influence, done properly, with generosity and zero apology. Which is as should be expected, as behind the pass is executive chef Giles Edwards, who has created the menu alongside Van der Westhuizen. Previously at the helm of La Tête, he is no stranger to this style of cooking, and a few of his previous eatery’s favourites re-emerge here — long live, I say!
The chicken-liver pâté is rich, smooth and silky, served old-school style and meant to be enjoyed liberally. The signature chicken pie with truffle sauce is exactly what it should be — crispy, golden pastry, a deeply savoury filling and a sauce that leans fully into indulgence. It’s comforting, satisfying and feels somewhat naughty.
The fish dish — usually sole — is treated with both restraint and decadence. Cooked à la meunière, it is glorious in its buttery elegance. It is all just rather wonderful, precise cooking, served simply and stylishly.
There’s a Caesar salad, served in a leaf with bacon bits aplenty and overflowing plates of crispy frites, perhaps best enjoyed with the 400g sirloin served on the bone, topped with bone marrow — again, restraint is not what you’re here for.
The cheese room slows things down, encouraging lingering rather than rushing. In a trademark Jan experience, guests who opt for the course have the opportunity to gather around the table and select from an array of local cheeses and accoutrements.
And, for dessert, I suggest finishing the experience with fresh-from-the-oven madeleines à la Giles, paired with crème anglaise for dunking with reckless abandon, Jan’s classic Malva pudding or, in the spirit of the restaurant, why not both?
Le Bistrot de Jan is not interested in minimalism, trends, or restraint. It is about pleasure, atmosphere and opulence. The food, while simple in presentation, is extravagant in execution. There’s music in the room, often broken by the chime of those crystal glasses being raised and, overall, a sense that dinner should feel like something special, that it’s worth getting dressed up for, and that perhaps there is still fun to be had.
In a world constantly asking for restraint, where the expectation is to expect less, Le Bistrot de Jan chooses indulgence: to give more, to be unashamedly grand. And it commits to it completely, fabulously, and flavourfully.
From the February edition of Wanted, 2026
