Tag: review

Pick n Pay Real Baby Range Review

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Those of you who follow me on twitter may have seen my response to @picknpay‘s call for “Mommy Bloggers” to come forward and review their newly revamped and relaunched Real Baby range of baby products. Anatomically, I don’t actually fit the bill as a Mommy Blogger, but since I have small children (Alex, 4 and Kristen, 2) and I blog, the anatomy bit is the only missing piece and so I laughingly volunteered my services. Fair play to PnP’s social media gurus for breaking the mould and including a *gasp* (sometime) Daddy Blogger on their panel of reviewers. It remains to be seen whether their online audience will believe a word I say though.

A couple of months on and we’ve been enjoying the Real Baby hamper that PnP sent through for us. I was actually just expecting a few nappies, but we got literally bags of stuff, including nappies, baby lotion, vaseline, aqueous cream, soaps, shampoo and cotton wool in several different (but all useful) formats, all packaged in a big white box which was immediately (and permanently) borrowed by my son and converted into a garage for his toy cars. Readers who have never had kids will not understand just how many different creams,  lotions and potions a small human requires, nor how many garages a toy car needs.

Now, at this point, I should inform new readers and visitors from the Pick n Pay website that I don’t tend to mince my words on this blog – “I say what I like and I like what I say” – and I do admire the bravery of Pick n Pay in including me in this review. But what became obvious as we got into using the products was that they had well-placed confidence that their range would meet my exacting standards (and those of my kids). I should also say that I’ve had no pressure from Pick n Pay to write anything specific or even anything positive about the products. In fact, I was told:

We don’t want a hard push for sales, just a user experience vibe.
Talk about it they way YOU want to talk about it.

Like I said – that’s bravery and confidence right there.

It seems to me that they have pitched this brand relaunch just right. It’s obviously aimed at the parents who have enough available money to go beyond the basic (read “No Name”) economy products, but who don’t want to spend extra cash (who does?) on the premium brands. Real Baby offers solid, decent, functional products without the bells and whistles, but without the hefty price tag as well. From that point of view, it’s might seem rather difficult to say anything hugely remarkable about the range, save for the exceptional value for money, but there are some products that really do stand out for us:

The Real Baby Nappies we are using are the size 5 (15-25kg) ones. Now, in the past, we have had nappy issues. While we would (obviously) love our kids to wear cheaper nappies, these just didn’t work – we had leaks, the nappies were uncomfortable and it was no fun for anyone concerned – and in the end, they only settled in the top of the range Pampers. Think of it like your fussy cat who will only eat the expensive cat food or your fussy husband *ahem* who will only watch the smartest flatscreen TV.
However, these Real Baby nappies do the job. I have commented on twitter that I am amazed at how much capacity they have, and this is important, since our kids are at the stage where they are only wearing nappies at night – and so that’s 10 hours at a time.
If I have one criticism, they are a little bulkier than the Pampers brand, but for nighttime use, this really hasn’t been any problem at all. And we have tested them thoroughly – including nights after swimming, hot nights with extra drinks and even one 13½ hour marathon sleep by little Kristen. Not a leak in sight. Amazing.
Then compare the price: R2.50 each versus R3.75 each for the Pampers equivalent. It’s impressive stuff.

The Hygiene Liquid Hand Soap isn’t specifically a baby product, but it is an essential in any house with small children (and I say this in both my blogging guise and my professional role as a microbiologist). Again, this just does the job with no fuss. The active ingredient is triclosan which is a very effective antibacterial and antifungal agent and the product has a pleasant citrus scent. I have the bottle in front of me here on my desk and already Alex is wanting it put back in the bathroom so that he can go and wash his hands.
So evidently, it also promotes good habits in your little ones.

But my favourite product of all is the Real Baby Tear Free Baby Shampoo. It has a cartoon giraffe on the front, which is a great start (although the product does look hugely similar to the Real Baby Body Wash, which has caused a little confusion).
At R23.99 for 400ml, this shampoo comes in about half the price of the equivalent Johnson’s product, but rather than being as good, but cheaper than the market leader like many of the Real Baby products, this one does the job better in so many ways.
The design of the bottle, for example: someone has actually thought about it. The shape means that it’s easier to grip, which makes a big difference when you have soapy hands (are you reading this, Mr Johnson?) and the flip-top lid has a big lip which means that you don’t have to struggle to hold a slippery child in frog-in-a-sock mode in one hand, the shampoo bottle in the other while opening the lid with your third. Wait, what?

We’ve all been there.
(In fact, it was this post about bathing the kids that established my credibility as a parent for many readers).

The shampoo is thick, which means that a little goes a long way. It smells great (that’ll be the chamomile extract) and – without wanting to sound like a Verimark advert – it left my daughter’s hair silky smooth and tangle free. (I’ve failed, haven’t I?)
Best of all, it really is gentle on the kids’ eyes – which is good, because “it’s hard to lose a friend when your heart is full of hope, but it’s worse to lose the towel when your eyes are full of soap”. Especially when the eyes are those of your 2-year-old daughter.
Seriously, it’s kind of hard to get excited about baby shampoo, but this stuff has revolutionised our hair wash nights. I might even start using it myself.

So there you have it. 1,000+ words about Pick n Pay’s Real Baby products. You didn’t think it was possible; I didn’t think it was possible. But the cynic in me has been silenced. (Briefly, at least.)

I’m giving the Real Baby range a solid thumbs up. Good quality, great value.
Nice work, Pick n Pay.

Eat. Pray. Love. Best. Review. Ever?

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I don’t do films but I did (belatedly) catch sight of an abridged version of Peter Bradshaw’s review of Eat Pray Love today and it made me smile.

Sit, watch, groan. Yawn, fidget, stretch. Eat Snickers, pray for end of dire film about Julia Roberts’s emotional growth, love the fact it can’t last for ever. Wince, daydream, frown. Whimper, moan, grimace. Wriggle, writhe, squirm. Seethe, growl, rage.

This is merely a cleverly written variant of the same feelings that I have heard from Mrs 6k, friends and colleagues who have had the misfortune of wasting several hours of their lives with Ms Roberts.

Does anyone know anyone who actually liked this film?

Gentlemen prefer Blonde?

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Ah yes – the Blonde review that I promised and then never did. Well, when there are other things to do like braai’ing and drinking beer, making a biltong drier with your son and watching a somewhat implausible yet rather amusing film featuring Morgan Freeman and Christopher Walken, restaurant reviews understandably take a back seat.

But all that is done – and I did promise to tell you about what was an interesting and generally enjoyable evening with the Molton Brown Curry Club. (Can I say “club”…?)

The first thing you notice about Blonde is the huge glass door that the Tall Accountant almost smashed on the way out a bit later. It’s a bit odd, sitting there in the doorframe of a Victorian terraced house, but it works (aesthetically and functionally). It’s almost a metaphor for the awkward and obvious juxtaposition of Victorian building and Noughties style that’s everywhere within.
You’re met with that chandelier in the entrance area and then you go inside and it’s all white walls, big art, creative types, orange oregan pine floors and smart waitrons.
And that Maitre D’ that turned all our heads. More than once.

We were ushered from the rather cramped bar up the stunningly open staircase to our ever so comfy seats on the top floor in a pleasant, but overly bright room and then we struck our first problem: thanks to a last minute change of mind, our numbers had swelled from 6 to 7. The staff dealt with the issue impeccably, suggesting that we use their “Attic Room”, which is (somewhat confusingly) situated just off the half landing between the floors. This room also acts as their wine cellar and while it was a little “rough and ready”, it suited us perfectly. One huge improvement was the lighting, which was provided by a single CFL bulb at one end of the room and a wine fridge at the other – a stark yet welcome contrast to the supernova brightness in the main restaurant.

Blonde has a remarkable opening deal which is on until the end of August – 50% off everything. Beer, cocktails, wine, food – the whole lot, slashed by half. Schweet.
And it’s a good job too.
Without their generosity, we would have forked out a mighty R5,000 between the 7 of us. And that, I’m afraid, is utterly ridiculous.

Because for a restaurant in Cape Town to require you to part with that much cash, they need to be exceptional in every single department. And while it was a pretty good effort (and a damn good evening), Blonde fell a little short.

The menu is unnecessarily complicated. They should take their own hint here – how much nonsense must be included in each description to warrant the basic dish to be in bold so you can actually see what you are eating? Also, I don’t want to have to rely on my GCSE French to work out what I’m going to order (and to help out my fellow diners) and why does everything seem to come with a reduction of something? Mint reduction, beef reduction, poultry reduction, balsamic reduction, aged balsamic reduction – the list goes on and on.
And the fact that there were pictures of pretty ladies on each page didn’t distract us enough from the lowlighted and annoyingly american-spelled exorbitant prices.

The waitrons at MBCC evenings traditionally never have a particularly easy ride, so it would perhaps be unfair to detrimentally judge Neil’s performance, although it would have been nice to see a bit more of him during the evening. Again, it didn’t really trouble us that we were left to our own devices surrounded by a couple of thousand bottles of wine, but had it have been a different set of friends, it would probably have been a little disappointing service-wise and probably undeserving of the “discretionary 13% service charge” which is automatically added to every bill (but which you must “feel free to ask us to remove if you are not comfortable with this addition”).
I’m not quite sure where, when or why that extra 3% suddenly crept into Cape Town dining. Nor the automatic addition of the discretionary tip. But I don’t like it.

But I digress and in the meanwhile, the table was treated to melba toast with salmon pate and carpaccio of beef. Oh dear. My first experience of fine dining at Blonde was a frozen block of allegedly fresh carpaccio. And I mean frozen rock solid – ice crystals and all. We pointed this out to an (eventually) passing waitress who apologised profusely and removed it before belatedly replacing it with two more spoonfuls of the pate, which was salmon pate.

Not a good start then, but the first of the wine was beginning to kick in and so we happily continued.
Given such a huge and complex choice, I (and many of the others in the party) went with Neil’s recommendation of Blonde’s “signature dishes”.

The starters received mixed reviews: my calamari ceviche was ordinary and the Offshore Tax Director was hugely unimpressed with the roasted vegetable salad which he had inexplicably ordered. But on the bright side, there were very positive noises made about the spice-fried baby calamari.
Virtually everyone went for the much vaunted truffle-infused fillet for mains. The meat was good (if a little small in size) and cooked to perfection and again, maybe it would be overly critical of me to have a go at the perhaps too salty jus or the mildly dry risotto balls that accompanied it. But remember that come the 1st of September, they’re going be asking for “one hundred eighty nine” Rands for that dish.
If you want to charge that sort of money, it’s going to have to be better than that.
As a consolation, the Tall Accountant very much enjoyed his smoked springbok loin, although he couldn’t enthuse too freely, since any reference to the national rugby team was banned from the evening’s conversation.

The desserts were also “ok”. Chocolate fondante was “nice”, the Peach Cobbler was “alright”.
“Fine, but not spectacular” was the theme of the evening – the service, the food, the ambiance – it was  just “ok”. And a little expensive for what we got at R350 a head (albeit with drinks and that discretionary 13% service charge included).

But then you remember that everything was half price. And that’s where it all goes horribly wrong.
Because we were already feeling a little bit ripped-off.
Look, we’re a gang of Southern Suburbs living married men – and admittedly probably not Blonde’s target market. But we’ve all been around long enough to know a decent restaurant experience when we get it. This wasn’t it.

But then again, for the target market, does it actually have to be a decent restaurant experience for Blonde to survive post their half price opening offer? How much are that target market of well-paid, City Bowl dwelling DINKY’s looking for great food and service and how much are they looking for the trendy place to see and be seen?
As I understand it – Blonde is that trendy place right now. But in being it, it’s alienated a lot of potential customers who could have supported it beyond the initial hype and hullabaloo.

Risky move, chaps. Good luck out there.

That Karibu Review

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Last night we went out to Karibu restaurant on the Waterfront. Now, I know what you’re thinking: tourist trap. And you’re right.
For the amount of money that you spend there, you could have a really decent meal at a really decent restaurant in Cape Town. Or even Franschhoek, if you could afford the petrol. But last night we were with tourists and we went in to the experience fully aware that we were going to be overcharged for our evening. Note that the benchmark 2009 Beyerskloof Pinotage (available for R40 retail at the vineyard earlier in the day) was a monumental and record breaking R145 a bottle. Ouch!

But like I said – we went in with our eyes open, so that was fine.

Let’s start with the positive. Singular. The food was good. Not exceptional. Not OMG-I’m-going-to-have-to-stop-eating-and-phone-Cape-Talk wonderful, but pretty good. Which was nice.

Sadly, the positive ended there. Lets start with our waitress, who I shall not name and shame, save to say that she was named after a German car company. Beginning with M. And ending with ercedes. You might be able to work it out – I don’t know.
She couldn’t speak English. Now I know that South Africa has 11 official languages, but I’m willing to bet that her Afrikaans, Ndebele, Northern Sotho, Sotho, Swazi, Tswana, Tsonga, Venda, Xhosa and Zulu weren’t up to much either. Her Spanish was probably awesome, but mine is rubbish, so that wouldn’t have helped much either.

Let me give you an example. I told her what I wanted for my starter; she wrote it down. I told her what I wanted for my main course; she wrote it down. And then she asked me what I wanted for my starter. Of course, she meant what would I like to have as a side order for my main course, but she didn’t know how to say that in English. Fundamentals.
Still – that was better than my brother who was given a random side order for his main course (not having been asked) and my mother, who was given the wrong side order with her main course. I got the wrong starter (unsurprisingly), my wife didn’t get her glass of water and the manager had to come and confirm what my main course was, because the kitchen didn’t know. Not great.

We were asked if the TV (right next to our table for the football) was too loud, which it was, so they turned it down. Then they pumped the sound through the restaurant music system anyway, so we had to shout over the commentary, never mind the vuvuzelas. Why bother?
The tablecloth was dirty, the napkins hadn’t been dried properly since being washed and the cutlery still had dried… something… on from the last diner. Or maybe even the one before.
It was poor. Really, really poor.

Look, I don’t mind paying through the nose for a “tourist” thing ever now and again when I’m with tourists. But for that money, I expect better than the dreadful service and tatty surroundings.
The waitress got a R3 tip on a R1,497 bill.
Having said that, she did get a free hint, as well.

The sad thing is that with the World Cup on at the moment, the Waterfront is full of tourists who now think that Karibu “South African Dining” represents the average SA restaurant, when nothing could be further from the truth.
When the biggest benefit for this country from this World Cup is the positive experiences that our visitors have while they are over here and their recommendations of SA as a holiday destination to their friends, family and countrymen, places like Karibu are scoring us a big own goal.

The Killers at Val de Vie – Review

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We went, we saw, we made it back almost partially unscathed.
Personal photos, courtesy of Mrs 6k’s K850i are on the way, but in the meantime, here are some others to keep you going.

The Venue
Val de Vie is very nice. Posh. And the concert crowd (and the concert, actually) seemed a bit out of place. The stage was the usual Big Concerts stage, the big screens with the one rogue pixel, the rectangular stage and the pretty impressive array of lighting. The field was well kept, nice short grass, flat – limited chances of twisted ankles etc. I thought the free* bar was well run (went several times, queued a bit), the loos were plentiful (went twice – no queuing!!).
I was rather impressed.

The Parking/Traffic Issue
This morning, I note that there’s a huge storm about the traffic and the parking at the concert. If I see the words “epic fail” one more time, it will just be… well… an “epic fail”. On the way in, we met traffic just before the N1 junction and then we queued all the way into the estate. We had (as everyone had) received two emails from Big Concerts last week, both stating (amongst other things):

Fans are advised to arrive at the venue as early as possible in order to prevent pressure on the roads approaching the estate. Gates are scheduled to open at 16:00.

We would have been there at 16:00 on the dot. Who thinks that if they aim to turn up at the venue at 17:00 or later then they’re going to sail straight in? Seriaas? As it was, we got in and parked up just after half past four. Fine by me.
On the way out, it was hugely congested – much like other gigs and sporting events I have been to in the UK and SA. Back to that email again:

The show will be over by 22:30 and we expect traffic volumes to have eased by midnight.

Which was pretty much exactly right as well. Actually, the show finished at 22:15 and I left the venue by quarter past midnight. But I’m not going to quibble over a couple of quarter hours.

I refuse to blame Big Concerts (the promoter) for the “epic fail” parking and traffic. I never saw it. It was busy – hugely busy, sure. Were people not expecting that, despite the emails and the information? Even if Big Concerts had opened the gates an hour earlier, people would still have left it until the last minute to try and get in and then ignored the well-publicised warnings about the traffic after the concert.
You got home a bit late – big deal. Was Mummy angry because today is a school day or are you just jumping on the bandwagon because you need something to whine about?

The Support
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Zebra and Giraffe are the most promising band to come out of South Africa since, well, certainly since I’ve been here. I always feel sorry for support acts as they are so regularly overlooked, but this was a huge opportunity for Z&G and they gave it everything. In My Eyes stood out for me as did The Knife. There was energy, there was passion. Greg Carlin’s voice was perfectly on form and the audience interaction was perfect in tone and quantity and was well reciprocated.
Zebra and Giraffe and The Dirty Skirts are playing in Cape Town this Saturday in a (not ever so) well-publicised event at WBHS and I’ll certainly be there, because I just can’t get enough of these guys at the moment.

The Killers
Ah. The main event. And – I know this is going to prompt howls of derision – but can I say that I was a little bit disappointed?
The hype, the build-up, the anticipation had been huge. And yes, the set was good – it was really, really good – but for me, it didn’t live up to the expectation. Maybe that was because my expectations were too high, but why shouldn’t they have been? After all, this is one of the biggest bands in the world right now and they had n thousand fans eating out of their hands.
In truth, it was a one man show. Brandon Flowers has remarkable energy and a remarkable presence: as he approached the microphone before they kicked off with Human as if working out how best to attack it. But as he strutted around and posed like he was the only one on stage, it began to feel a bit faux; a bit contrived.
This was a show that they have done all over the world and in many ways, it was as if they were just doing another show. Like there was nothing special about it for them. You knew that the ad libs had been ad libbed for the last six months: “Is it too early to say that you’re a bit louder than Johannesburg yet?”. If anything, it was just too well done.

That said, they know their stuff. None of the B-side rubbish – this was a catalogue of their hits and there’s nothing that a crowd loves more than hit after hit after hit. Smile Like You Mean It and Mr Brightside  (written about a bloke from the industrial East end of Sheffield) were particularly well received. Confetti and pyrotechnics assisted with wowing the audience and there were numerous sing along moments to boot. Ronnie Vannucci on the drums was one of the forgotten heroes as Flowers pandered to the audience and stole the show, but what a passionate performance at the back.
The encore was undeniably spectacular. Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine and When You Were Young were a superb end to a memorable show, but one which never quite reached its full potential for me.

Overall
An excellent afternoon and evening out. Great company (including (briefly, at least) the legendary Ian MacDonald from SA – The Good News), a great vibe and a great concert. And the perfect end to a spectacular party weekend. And while The Killers didn’t quite do it for me, I think I was perhaps in the minority. Mrs 6k loved every single minute and that’s a rare, yet very welcome, vote of approval.
Next up for Val de Vie is Elton John and they’re going to have buy a teleporter if they’re going to keep Cape Town’s old tannies happy.

UPDATE: Kfm/Big Concerts comment on the traffic:

Heavy volumes were always expected and as a consequence fans were repeatedly advised through various channels to assist the authorities in reducing the traffic load.  These requests included allowing enough time to enter and exit the venue; the sharing of rides (carpooling), and a general call for patience and respect for other fans on the road.  
Regrettably it appears from the reports provided through the Venue Operational Centre that the warnings were not heeded and many motorists left their approach to the venue much too late.  As a consequence of the congestion they experienced, tempers flared and many people simply parked their cars illegally blocking the venue entry and exit. 

That’s what I just said. 

* free: allegedly because the liquor licence was refused/not applied for.