Capetonians have an uneasy relationship with their tourist spots. We never know quite how to feel about restaurants that offer an ‘authentic African experience’, and the promise of an exquisite view is often tempered by fears of dreadful service and overpriced food. Restaurants on the beachfront or with great views often suffer from extremes due to the seasons. Many struggle to make it through each winter, and are then forced to hire a whole new staff to manage the rush, leading to a lack of consistency and absolutely no sense of identity. Thanks to the tourist season, there’s also less focus on cultivating return visitors – or it seems that way, anyway.

And, while some of us love sparkling pools, man-made beaches and fancy cocktails, for others, restaurants designed for the rich and beautiful are the places we love to hate.

When Shimmy Beach Club opened in December it appeared to be the jewel in the crown of this particular brand of establishment. Not purely a tourist trap, perhaps, but certainly a trap for the conspicuously wealthy and beautiful: a multimillion Rand development, with a man-made beach, a plunge pool and PR suggesting visitors arrive by boat or helicopter. It all sounded very intimidating, for those of us without abs or trust funds. Online review sites like ours were soon flooded with righteous indignation, a sense of not being appreciated, and allegations of snobbery.

Now that the dust has settled, I’ve been tasked with discerning whether it’s deserving of its reputation. Can the service really be that bad? And what’s the food like? I enlist my flatmate for moral support – he has real-life abs – and head off to investigate.

The food
The menu runs to several pages – usually a bad sign – and it emerges that there are additional sushi and pizza menus. We ask our waitron’s advice to help narrow it down. The rock shrimp tempura is not too shabby: neat California rolls topped with prawns in a light, crispy tempura batter, dipped in a small amount of wasabi mayo. The lamb lollipops are also good: the South Indian chilli and lime sauce is perhaps an odd pairing with lamb, but the chops are succulent and juicy, and medium-rare as requested. The salmon, served with an Asian-influenced tagliata sauce with soy, ginger and a touch of chilli, as well as parmesan and rocket, is also a perfectly fresh and tasty rendition. For pud, the crème brûlée has a lovely thin and crisp topping, and is convincingly flecked with vanilla seeds. So far, so good.

The service
“We have three separate kitchens,” our waitress warns us, so ordering from more than one menu will result in food arriving at different times. This seems a little weak, but managing expectations is at least half of good service. There’s no hint of snobbery from the individuals who serve us, and food comes out briskly. (Though, at one point, our waitress does enquire whether my guest is a professional athlete. Perhaps the abs are skewing the odds.) The service charge of 11% is included in the bill.

The ambience
This is Shimmy’s undeniable strength. Located at the mouth of the Waterfront’s harbour, looking out over sparkling water, there’s no question that the setting is sublime. Outside, sun loungers rest on a pristine faux beach; there’s a turquoise plunge pool for paddling; and elegant white seating and decking. The double-volume dining room inside, complete with embossed wallpaper and shiny finishes, is not as cold or intimidating as one might expect.

The wine
By-the-glass options are somewhat limited if you’re not after the house wines. The glassware is also a little clunky, and if you sit on the beach, be warned: you may be made to drink out of plastic. There is, however, a dedicated whisky room and vodka vault that’s chilled to minus two degrees – perfect for drinking fine vodka and nibbling caviar, apparently. After a few months there is still no cocktail menu, so the promise that the bar makes all the usual suspects will have to suffice for now.

The verdict 
“It was actually pretty good,” I confess to the Eat Out team when I return to work on Monday, thinking back to the succulent lamb lollipops. There are cries of “No!” and “Never!”

“Who did you go with?”
“My flatmate.”
“Ja, you see! You can’t take someone like him with you. It’s not an accurate representation.”

My recommendation? Phone ahead about the cover charge (which could be around R100 depending on the time or day), try your damnedest to get your party to stick to one menu for each of the courses, and take somebody with abs along to ensure good service.

By Katharine Jacobs

Have you been to Shimmy Beach Club? Let us know what you thought by writing a review.