It’s a perfectly clear winter’s day as I drive out to Jordan one Thursday. The vines are turning red on the narrow lane through the vineyard, and I trundle along happily behind a green tractor, wondering vaguely what I did right in a previous life to deserve the upcoming treat. I’m here to taste the food of the number three restaurant in the country, and also to interview the legendary man behind it, George Jardine.

“You chose a good day to come,” says the Scotsman, in his dry accent. From the table, we can see out across the whole valley, to the mountains in the distance. The area has been George’s home since he opened here in November 2009.

Serving a daily changing menu, he’s continued his passion for fresh ingredients.

“My favourite thing is something that is in season and at its best,” he says, acknowledging that over the course of a year, this is “pretty much everything.” This then, is why he changes his menu daily, adapting to the season and the supply.

“All my suppliers are amazing,” says George. “There’s a small group of chefs, who’ve been in a process for about ten years, working with suppliers, working directly with the farmers to grow specific things. Now we’re seeing the fruit of that – we’re seeing nice organic vegetables and nice chickens. But it’s an effort. In South Africa you get fantastic products, but you get fantastic products inconsistently.”

The commitment to fresh produce even extends to gardening.

“We grow herbs and flowers here, at the back we’ve got a bit of land with some citrus, apples and pears. We grew a lot of tomatoes last year, different varieties, and we’ll do something similar again this year.”

Along with his two boys, George also picks the wild mushrooms for the restaurant. “We picked a lot last week, we had a lot of porcinis and pinelings. I’ll pay them, maybe R20 for a big bag, so that saves me having to run round too much,” he says, grinning.

It also sounds like he’s a great mentor to those lucky enough to work with him in the kitchen. “I think it’s nice for the youngsters in the kitchen to see things from the beginning. This morning we went to Spier to visit Angus, he’s got a biodynamic farm down there, that’s just a basic thing for them to see the chickens – how they’re slaughtered – and where they lay eggs, that sort of thing. In today’s world people are entirely unaware of the process. People buy a chicken from the supermarket and think that’s it.”

And what of the open kitchen? Is that to give diners a chance to see where things are coming from too, or is it to take advantage of the view?

“I just like to see what’s going on. I think people like to see what’s going on in the kitchen, but it’s also more entertaining for us. And it is a great view.”

With that, he leaves to go for a walk – not a bad idea when you live out here – and I’m left to consume the food.

Never one to choose my own meals if I can avoid it, I order the set menu, which starts with a tasty piece of mackerel served with semichi mushrooms and Nasturtium flowers. An autumnal salad follows; light, but impressive, with touches of foamy celeriac chantilly, creamy mozzarella (which I later learn hails from cheese heroes, Buffalo Ridge), crunchy toasted pumpkin seeds, and Kalahari truffles – which are firm like scallops.

Due to the open kitchen I can smell the pork before it reaches me. Succulent and tasty, the pork is wood-fire roasted and served on crushed white beans and pancetta. I’m not surprised it’s good – George is something of a whizz with pork. He’d take along “a whole pig”, if ever stranded on a desert island, he later tells me.

Last of all comes the dessert. It’s a real showstopper: a beautiful honey and poppy seed soufflé, its centre melt-in-the-mouth, with a thin crust of crunchy sugar round the edges. It’s sublime, and has me casting around for somebody to tell.

Like the man himself, it is honest food, nuanced but with an emphasis on simplicity, and driven by star ingredients which are allowed to shine. Combined with the spectacular setting, it’s a winning combination.

By Katharine Jacobs