Zachary’s at Pezula Resort Hotel, Knysna
I’m always a bit dubious of anything that arrives with big fanfare – read big bucks -thrown at it. Why, I wonder, does it need that? Surely the merits of the place/chef/food – with, perhaps, a discreet ad in WINE magazine - will convince Miz Public to visit?
Frankly, I was pleased to have been invited to stay at the fabulous Pezula Resort Hotel on the Shekel-ridge of Knysna.
Owner Keith Steward’s philosophy is to create a blueprint for an environmentally sensitive real estate development that uses only ten percent of the land to build. Invasive alien trees have been removed and the forest is being reseeded with indigenous Fynbos.
I arrive in Knysna – and the lauded Pezula – late afternoon, exhausted. I fling myself on the bed the size of a medium-sized ferryboat, a Bloody Mary clutched in one hand. In the other, the TV remote. I idly flick through the channels. The meantime the russet-red of my drink tones perfectly with the earth-toned Zulu-Zen décor of glass, stone and wood.
Activities, I muse distractedly, include golfing on the championship course, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, squash, bowls and a world-class cricket oval. I’m exhausted already.
To the left of me through the window, that green that glows as the late afternoon sun, diffused because of the rains yesterday and the lingering moisture in the air – on the golf course. To the one side, an azure view of expanses of sky and sea. To the other, a picture-perfect lagoon with the town hugging it. I have it in stereo-vision, so to speak.
I watch someone in a bright red shirt, a ‘contradiction proves the rule’ of the artificial against the green of the course, the mountains on the horizon and the pale blue wash of the sky.
After a four hour journey of heart stopping beauty and speed from Port Alfred, I’m reclining on the bed, having swiveled the television in my direction.
Let me not relax too much. I’m here to meet the chef everyone’s whispering about already. He’s a Los Angeles boy, I’m told, and has arrived here via a rather circuitous route. Which of course, in life, is a good thing. With him he’s brought global culinary trends, experience and of course a keen eye, tastebuds and intellect.
Speaking of brainwaves, when I sat down to talk to the man, he’s rather, well, disconcertingly Zen. As I watch him watching me, he answers my questions in a low, measured tone. My frenetic mind seems to start to settle down almost by itself.
He tells me about his philosophy on food – and if you’ll forgive me for raving for a moment – both simple and profound. He says, “Our goal (as humans beings) is to become more and more aware. In food, as in life, awareness brings understanding”.
Geoffrey Murray was brought in to set up the kitchen for the restaurant. His first visit in 1998 had him falling in love with the country and although he’d been offered a job at the White House, the white beaches of South Africa triumphed.
Before that, his ‘modern ethnic’ menus at his restaurants, Boom, in New York (voted Best New Resaurant by Esquire magazine in 1992) and Madrid and Bang in Miami and Mexico City had diners and major international travel and food magazines raving.
The restaurants, Zachary’s – named thus because of a “well-loved and widely traveled Labrador who truly had a dog’s life, from fishing for oysters to sniffing his way home from forest soirees”.
The restaurant is found through the double volume, pale wood-clad entrance – with views – an intimate, oblong room where international celebs dine incognito, their voices hushed by the clever cushioning of carpets, cladding and décor.
Speaking of celebs, controversial football manager Sven Goran Erikson and I propped up the bar for hours one night while every journalist in the country was looking for him. But that was a happy happenstance. The management there don’t divulge this information – I recognised the man.
The restaurant was full the night I was there, but not a kink showed in the entire experience. Service was as it should be at a swank place like this – seemingly effortless – which of course means the ‘swan’ principle applies. Graceful on the surface, paddle like hell underneath.
Murray personally sources “the very finest” local ingredients and organically-grown produce to create his inspired cuisine.
I had the chef’s tasting menu, with a matched glass of wine in each case. The Kingklip, presented as a Malay-style Laksa, with coconut milk and the slight crunchiness of rice noodles. The wine, 2004, Klein Constantia Rhine Riesling.

