WORDS —
JESSICA WADDELL
There is something a little compelling about Aarth before you’ve even stepped inside. Perhaps it starts with Chef Vicky Shah whose reputation across some of the city’s most respected kitchens precedes him. Or perhaps it’s that what he’s created here feels far more personal than a CV could capture.
Parnell already has a kind of old-world charm to it, and Aarth is tucked away in one of those special brick-laid alleyways and courtyards, a bit like a cobblestone street somewhere magical in another part of the world.
The road noise disappears as you walk up to the restaurant and, on this night, the courtyard terrace was bustling with a relaxed and joyful energy where diners were clearly enjoying the spot they were in. Vines crawl up from the brick underfoot, wrapping around balustrades and stretching overhead, welcoming you in.
Inside, the feeling shifts. The moody, sleek interior is a rapid contrast from the terrace, yet they are still connected in a calm and sophisticated way. It’s a small space and you feel instantly cocooned in it. Soft, diffused lighting, black walls, lush greenery and wooden slats all layer together creating something intimate and considered.
We tried the set menu, which was a great way to understand Chef Vicky’s thinking behind his dishes. It was also a bit of a journey that moved between familiarity and surprise, playfulness and precision. It began with oysters. Resting in a sauce inspired by sol kadhi, a traditional Indian drink made from mangosteen and coconut. The soft pink hue gave way to a tangy, savoury and lightly spiced flavour that paired beautifully with the fresh oyster hiding beneath.
Next was Chef Vicky’s take on a sev puri. A crisp delicate shell housed pumpkin, tamarind and Vietnamese mint. This was one of my favourites of the night. Perfectly bite-sized, bursting with flavour, and that kind of dish where you look around quietly hoping another one might appear out of nowhere.
The whitebait bhaji was artfully presented and unexpectedly nostalgic. It brought me straight back to my childhood where tuatua and whitebait fritters were eaten at the beach with family. There’s something special about the way food can transport you like that, and it made me appreciate the way Chef Vicky brings his own memories and experiences to each of his plates.
Seeing Butter Chicken on the menu, I already knew it wouldn’t be what we’d usually expect. It arrived and was something entirely different, of course. Two small pastry-like shells, intricately shaped into chickens, coated in honey and muscovado sugar, with a rich, velvety chicken liver parfait sandwiched in between. It looked simple but you knew it was anything but. And tasting it confirmed everything. Thoughtful, surprising, complex.
The kingfish crudo came next, dressed in calamansi and bathed in a masala chaas, a refreshing spiced buttermilk sauce. Over the top, colourful strips of kohlrabi carried different flavour dustings of tomato and kimchi, raspberry, and nori and parsley.
From here, the dishes seemed to grow deeper. The juicy duck, glazed in imli miso, sat on a clever duck nihari sauce spotted with blackcurrants. And the lamb, cooked perfectly, arrived with multiple chutneys and sauces arranged almost like a compass with each one representing different regions of India. Naga chilli, mustard, saagwala, and more. It was a nice journey, moving around the plate, and regions, discovering something new all while sitting in your seat.
Dessert brought another sense of playfulness and memory. A simple-looking feijoa arrived cut in half like something handed to you by your mum or nanna on a summer’s day. Inside though, was a feijoa mishti doi, creamy, nostalgic, layered with texture and sweetness.
And finally, Mango Lassi. Just like the Butter Chicken, deceptively simple on paper and ended up being another favourite of the night. Fresh, sweet and an ideal ending to an evening of warmth and spice. A mango custard layered with lychee, pineapple and so many bright flavours. Before you think about leaving, you really do come close to asking for this one… just one more time.
The food alone would be enough to rave about Aarth, but it’s the intention behind it, too. Each dish is considered not just in flavour, but in story. It challenges what you think you know about Indian cuisine, but it certainly doesn’t lose that sense of comfort.
1/333 Parnell Road, Parnell | aarth.co.nz
