JAN Franschhoek | Cape Town, South Africa
Surrounded by lavender fields and framed by the Franschhoek Valley mountains, JAN Franschhoek, a seasonal pop-up in South Africa’s Winelands, is Chef Jan Hendrik’s love letter to his native Cape.
Surrounded by lavender fields and framed by the Franschhoek Valley mountains, JAN Franschhoek, a seasonal pop-up restaurant in South Africa’s Winelands, is Jan Hendrik’s love letter to his native Cape.
The pop-up is headed by Jan Hendrik van der Westhuizen, a South African native, who opened his first restaurant, JAN, in Nice, France. In 2016, JAN received its first Michelin star. It has retained its star ever since. To open a Michelin-star restaurant is no small feat, to do so on Michelin’s home soil as a foreigner is nearly unheard of.
With JAN Franschhoek, Chef Hendrik has returned to his South African roots. The pop-up is a testament to his talent — not only in the kitchen, but in his unwavering attention to detail.
I had the pleasure of visiting on a mother-daughter trip to Cape Town last month.
Our evening begins at La Motte Wine Estate in a 1751 Manor House. We are invited into the House with warm greetings from the evening’s hosts and a glass of La Motte’s 2023 Cap Classique.
At the back of the third drawing room are three small bites on a large wooden table: Lamington, a savory cake, with biltong, a South African stable of air-dried, cured meat; a smoked tomato consommé with fynbos, a heathland vegetation native to South Africa’s Western Cape, served in a flute; and a walnut, green fig, and boerenkaas (a Dutch cheese) mousse, served in a spoon.
Whatever this was, I was hooked already.
Just as the ice begins to break with our fellow diners for the evening, we are whisked away in a BMW in groups of four across the street to a humble 18th-century cattle post with a pitched roof in a lavender field, known as Veepos.
We make our way down the footpath towards Veepos. An oak tree towers above it. We are offered lavender water from a blue and white bowl to cleanse our hands. On the doorstep of Veepos, we have another drink.
As the sun begins to set, we are welcomed inside.
The space is stunning.
The room — no larger than 100 square feet — is darkly lit with floor-to-ceiling black stone walls and a thatched ceiling. Fynbos hangs in bouquets from above. A fire crackles gently on an open hearth. A jazzy soundtrack fills the room. Think Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. A light breeze from outside blows in.
The table is a masterpiece of its own. Candelabras and glassware of all shapes and sizes dot the 18-seater table. One of the most striking, yet simple details, are the embroidered, starchy napkins hanging from the ceiling above the table. They smell of fresh linen and lavender.
On the table is butter carved in the shape of Beethoven and Mozart’s bust — a Hendrik classic. We are told they’ve spent hours carving that morning.
We take our seats and a member of the staff welcomes us and introduces us to the first course of the evening: Tomato in an Herb Garden. Thin ribbons of cucumber are coiled into spirals with sliced heirloom tomatoes and delicate flowers atop. The course is paired with the La Motte Vin de Joie 2024 rosé.
The next course is a quirky dish served in a teacup and saucer: Pap, slak and gremolata. A layer of rich pulled lamb lines the bottom of the teacup, followed with a cheesy pap, then a bright green gremolata. A snail shell is perched on top. Playful, yet delicious.
My favorite course of the night — although to speak of favorites is a difficult task — is the third: Frozen apple, dalewood boland, west coast mussels and smoked haddock milk. Atop the frozen apple rosettes and mussels is Tête de moine, a semi-hard cheese from the Western Alps. Rather than slicing it, the cheese is shaved into delicate rosettes. A haddock milk is poured atop tableside. The dish is a study in unexpected harmony: cold and warm, earth and sea, fresh and smoky.
A brief intermission to the bathroom: Naturally, no detail is spared in the bathroom either. Inside, a white linen curtain blows in the lavender breeze from outside. Hand towels are neatly wrapped in a blue and white bowl. There is a vase of dried fynbos. The brass faucet is hung from the white plastered wall. A feu du bois candle fills the room with the smell of wood smoke, cedarwood, and birch. (At the end of our trip, my mom and I drive halfway across Cape Town to pick up the same candle from the JAN Studio. It’s too nice to burn so it sits in my room unused.). I make a second trip to the bathroom later that evening just to take a picture. Enjoy below!
The fifth course is Jan Hendrik’s ode to South African cuisine: kook kos. The “Sunday roast” of South Africa. This course breaks the formality: rather than serving it individually, this course is shared with our fellow diners — many of whom we are now deep in conversation. There are the Australians on holiday, the South African couple, a Richard Branson character and his British wife, an American and his Parisian boyfriend, the Italians who own a hotel in Vienna. I can imagine any one of these characters in a season of White Lotus.
Platters arrive at the table: a whole roasted leg of lamb, a mushroom pie, white-pepper green beans, a crispy baked potato, mustard onions, tomatoes carved in the shape of a rose.
A surprise and delight: For our sixth course, we are ushered into the small kitchen at the back of the cottage where all the night’s food has been prepared. The room is no bigger than my own Brooklyn kitchen. Laid out on the counter are a selection of cheeses and preserves — some in jars, others still simmering in a pot on the stovetop. Cheese is a cornerstone of any JAN experience. At Restaurant JAN in Nice, for example, guests are led across the street to a dedicated cheese room at JAN’s sister restaurant, MARIA.
Just as the evening wraps up, a guestbook is passed around the table. We are told that Jan and the team read each message. I thank them for their food and hospitality.
The final course arrives: a peppermint crisp tart. Another staple of South Africa. The dish could put almost any dessert to shame. It is paired with a Boekenhoutsloof Noble Late Harvest. (I’m on the search for a bottle in New York).
The meal is wrapped with a cup of coffee which has been heated in the fireplace — a beautiful touch — and a final sweet indulgence. We are sent home with a JAN Journal and a bite for the morning.
We say goodbye and step out into the starry night — completely and utterly delighted.
Read more about JAN Franschhoek here.
A fairy tale of a dinner and place!
So fun to read this, what a luxurious and simple place. I loved too the description of the bathroom. It's always a good sign when that room is so beautiful and well designed.