I Can’t Stop Thinking About: Suze’s Ricotta, Persimmon and Pepperberry

It’s not as sexy as (the much-maligned) burrata. Or as sharp as the “king of cheeses”, Parmigiano-Reggiano. But dare I ask: is ricotta so hot right now?

Hot-Listed new wine bar Suze – by former Napier Quarter head chef Steve Harry and former Marion restaurant manager Giulia Giorgetti – makes a compelling case for yes.

Is a wine bar even a wine bar if it doesn’t have a variation of a dish that reads: [cheese], [fruit/vegetable], [herb/spice], [price you clock as slightly steep but ignore when ordering]? No. But not all simply worded, cheese-centred small plates are created equal.

Suze’s “ricotta, persimmon, pepperberry” is conversation-stoppingly good. “It’s the biggest-selling dish by far,” Harry says. “That and the focaccia are on every single table.”

Harry served something similar at Napier Quarter, but this version is even more refined.

Traditionally speaking, ricotta (“recooked” in Italian) is made from the whey by-product of cheesemaking. Harry does it from scratch before service – using St David Dairy milk and cheese, gently infused with bay leaf – so the first few tables get it still warm. The curds are big and bouncy, there’s no graininess, and they’re never used the next day.

At the pass, a circular bed of ricotta is laid on the plate, ready to be blanketed.

First comes the persimmon, carved into almost transparently thin rounds, each one ever so lightly seasoned with salt to make the flesh more pliable without robbing it of its bite. Those scarred by mushy, baby-food-textured persimmons (me) have nothing to fear.

Then, a dressing that epitomises Harry’s genius ability to layer flavour in a low-key, high-impact way. Last season’s dried figs are sliced, splashed with Mount Zero chardonnay verjus and steeped overnight until jammy, laying the flavour foundations while crushed pepperberries add a ballsy heat – similar to Sichuan pepper – to the mix.

A liberal amount of dressing, stained burgundy from the pepperberries, covers the persimmon to serve, bleeding into a golden moat of Mount Zero extra-virgin olive oil.

For bite number one, forgo your doorstop of focaccia – there’s plenty to mop up later on. The ricotta’s creaminess hits first, then the persimmon’s salty-sweetness, before the lean acidity of the verjus slices in, and the pepperberries’ mildly tongue-numbing quality creates a curious whir of warmth in your mouth that keeps you coming back for more.

Did I expect ricotta to go this hard? No. Is it my snack of the year (so far)? No question.

I Can’t Stop Thinking About is a series about dishes Broadsheet editors and writers are obsessed with.