Let Welling­ton­ista point you towards the Last Sup­per Club’s bible-quot­ing yum­my sound­ing menu that’s avail­able at their web­site. Yes­ter­day it was more elab­o­rate, while the restau­rant fea­tures a much more sim­ple ver­sion. How­ev­er, today, the real menu is online. We all live hap­pi­ly ever after.

Here’s a hot tip for you — if you are a par­ty of two, don’t make a reser­va­tion, because there’s only one table for two and it looks like the card table kids are sent to at Xmas. Instead, you should saunter in ear­ly, as this Welling­ton­ista did, and secure your­self one of the small half-sized booths in the win­dow. Order a bot­tle of Pal­lis­er Autumn 2004 Ries­ling ($34). Peruse the trun­cat­ed menu. Wait for your din­ing com­pan­ion. Fin­ish your glass of wine. Wait for your din­ing com­pan­ion. Order some fries. Be a lit­tle peev­ed when the wait­er fills your glass again with that very very tasty wine, because this means that self con­trol is even hard­er. Wait for your com­pan­ion…

When your fries ($5) arrive, they will be crispy shoe­strings with a scat­ter­ing of lemon pep­per, and teamed with a rather too sweet sweet chilli aioli. You’ll eat half of them before your din­ing com­pan­ion final­ly arrives, but at least you’ll be quick off the mark to tell the wait­er that you’d like first the “stack of grilled halou­mi with pro­sciut­to, rock­et and basil on brushcetta with roma tomatos” ($12), and then the “warm rab­bit sal­ad- mus­tard mar­i­nat­ed loin of rab­bit, with a rose­mary, gar­lic noo­dle and mesclun sal­ad driz­zled with a bal­sam­ic vinai­grette” ($15). You’ll for­get that the sal­ad men­tions noo­dles, and they will be a sur­prise to you lat­er. You’ll prob­a­bly also instruct your din­ing com­pan­ion to order the seafood plat­ter, even though you’re not that big on kai moana, but you know that she’ll dither oth­er­wise. She’ll order it with a side of greens, and you’ll both hope that the greens will come out at the same time as her plat­ter, which should arrive around the same time as your first entree.

The seafood plat­ter will arrive with your halou­mi, and it will be large and glo­ri­ous and good-look­ing enough that you’ll snaf­fle up some of raw fish with green chill­ies, and the chilli and gar­lic squid which is super tasty but still squid-tex­tured, unfor­tu­nate­ly. You’ll avoid the prawns, mus­sels, salmon dip and fresh anchovies, and wish that you did­n’t try the smoked fish cos it’s not to your fan­cy, but you’ll nev­er­the­less think that it looks like a bloody good time for some­one with a taste for the sea, and well priced at $20. Mean­while your halou­mi entree is small, and you’ll devour it quick­ly and grate­ful­ly. When she sees that you’ve now pil­ing mus­sel shells on your emp­ty plate, the wait­ress will offer to send out your rab­bit while your din­ing com­pan­ion is still pig­ging her way through the seafood, and you’ll remem­ber to ask for her greens as well. You won’t receive either until after the seafood has been cleared, how­ev­er, and your din­ing com­pan­ion won’t get cut­lery until you ask for it, where­upon the wait­er will say that it’s pol­i­cy to eat bro­col­i­ni with your fin­gers. You’ll for­give him for this though, because he’s try­ing very hard to squeeze out a few more drops from the wine bot­tle. The rab­bit will taste like gamey chick­en, and the warm sur­pris­ing pas­ta a lit­tle odd in com­bi­na­tion with cel­ery, but it’ll make you hap­py nev­er­the­less. You’ll each pay $45 and leave with fat tum­mies.