Arriving at the Belly and the Beast, you surrender control. There’s no menu to pore over, no decisions to agonise about — just the knowledge that you’ll be served a set tasting menu and that everyone in the room will eat the same dishes in this acclaimed restaurant.
You can flag some dietary restrictions beforehand, but beyond that the experience is in the chefs’ hands. It’s quite liberating not having to deal with pernickety choices.
That philosophy is central to founders Neil Swart and Anouchka Horn’s approach. Having worked together at two previous restaurants, they were clear about what they did — and didn’t — enjoy about traditional restaurant models. Out went sprawling menus and food waste; in came a tightly curated set menu, a smaller space and the freedom to cook creatively.
The formula has proved powerful. Since opening Belly of the Beast in 2018, they have launched two more restaurants on the same stretch of Harrington Street in Cape Town’s East City Precinct: Galjoen, which serves sustainably sourced fish, in 2023, and Seebamboes last year, also a smaller space focused on a kind of reinvention of “surf and turf”. By the end of this year, the duo will have five restaurants in the same street, all operating under the banner of The Belly Restaurant Group.
Belly itself is understated from the outside — once a bricked-up motorbike workshop — but inside the 30-seater dining room feels light and industrial, with large street-facing windows and an open kitchen so diners can see part of the meal being prepped and served. Shelves on the other side are lined with trophies and awards.
Their previous bistro in Welgemoed was popular, but repetition stifled creativity. Through a crowdfunding initiative, they made the move into town, determined to cook more instinctively and inventively. Harrington Street is now their home base.
Working with a set menu allows them to balance creativity and cost. They’re unafraid of lesser-known cuts: one course may feature a premium ingredient, another something humbler — always guided by flavour and technique rather than price.
“We try to balance the menu,” says Horn. “There might be one course that pushes your boundaries — kidneys, liver, or offal — so if you choose to just taste that dish and move on, there will be more than enough other dishes, and you will leave satisfied.”
Swart relishes changing minds about overlooked ingredients. Lamb offal is a favourite at Belly. “People have such misconceptions,” he says. “We cook it overnight in a curry sauce and then make sure we remove any bones. This leaves us with a delicious ragu of lamb tripe, trotters and tongue.”
There’s no gold leaf or gratuitous truffle shavings here. “We love using everyday cuts and making them delicious with time,” he adds. Beef shin, at times hake instead of yellowtail, careful technique over flashy luxury — that’s the ethos. It also reduces costs, so it’s a more affordable fine dining experience than many others.
Lunch begins with yellowfin tuna sashimi topped with zucchini atchar, roasted garlic aioli and pappadum — delicate, precise and bright. The Kabous course, made with their rolling bread dough, arrives as oil bread with bone marrow and homemade Bovril butter.
Then come the more adventurous plates: beef tongue terrine and beef tartare layered with curried green beans and mature cheddar. Coffee-marinated kudu loin is served with pampoentert, pumpkin labneh, spinach puree and chickpea shoots. Smoked Karoo lamb follows, paired with samp-and-bean tabbouleh, heirloom tomatoes, green beans, local feta and kapokbos jus.
Cheese — Chevi and Kilimanjaro from Belnori — precedes a playful dessert of gingerbread flan with cherry sorbet, fresh cherries and nostalgic Ideal milk (known for its use in many Afrikaans desserts).
Each course arrives with a written explanation, underscoring the thought behind every plate.
The meal can be accompanied by wine pairing from an array of sought-after local options, but we just went with a glass of Diemersdal’s The Journey, which was a delightful companion.
Menus change every few weeks, shaped by seasonality and availability.
Their expansion continues. Quagga is set to open on Harrington Street later this year and will be focused on venison, game and wild fish, with a more casual eatery — their only venue to offer an à la carte menu to be named “No Show”, which hints at the industry frustration of people who don’t show, as well as a less fussy, more relaxed approach to dining.
Underlying it all is accessibility. “We want Oom Kallie van die plaas, who loves steak and chips, to come and really enjoy our experience,” says Swart. “But the foodie who dines at La Colombe will also enjoy it here. We’ve aimed straight down the middle.”
Belly of the Beast strikes a subtle balance: elevated dining without pretence. It’s confident cooking in a space that feels accessible and alive.
