MEET YOUR GROCER
Ian Harrison’s rapt to have opened a restaurant all his own, and
everyone’s invited. Just don’t call it fine dining though, okay?
Ian Harrison’s rapt to have opened a restaurant all his own, and everyone’s invited. Just don’t call it fine dining though, okay?
WORDS HAYLEY BARNETT / PHOTOS ERIN CAVE
As I enter The Grocer through the kitchen, the first thing Ian Harrison does is apologise for swearing. The second thing he does is swear again.
He’s standing in the middle of his new restaurant's kitchen on Tauranga’s Strand, talking about duck fat and why he hates the term ‘fine dining’. He’s also prepping plates of confit duck, mushroom gnocchi and crispy chicken, all updated versions of dishes from his revamped menu.
“This isn’t fine dining,” he says, gesturing toward a duck salad layered with beetroot, orange and walnuts. “If it was fine dining, the orange would be a jelly, there’d be micro herbs everywhere and the sauce would be some over-reduced, complicated bullshit.”
He looks at me, warily.
“I just want to cook really good food.”
For people in Tauranga, Ian Harrison hardly needs an introduction. Over the past decade, he’s become one of the city’s defining hospitality figures. He’s helped shape restaurants including Sugo, Clarence, Alpino and Florence. Ask around local food circles and his name comes up quickly, usually alongside words like ‘perfectionist’, ‘obsessive’ and ‘brilliant’
– sometimes all three.
The Grocer is different because, for the first time, it’s entirely his. After years spent building other people’s visions, this is the place where he finally gets to cook exactly what he wants.
It’s only a few months old, yet Ian has already reworked the menu, tweaking dishes, refining portions and adjusting it based on what people have responded to. Winter is pushing things further toward hearty British gastropub territory, with slow braises, rich sauces, duck fat potatoes, steak and Sunday roasts. Summer, he says, will pull everything back toward lighter seafood and vegetables.
“It’s probably more Pommie than anything,” he laughs. “But then there’s Asian influence, Kiwi influence, Māori influence. If I feel like putting a curry on later in the year, I’ll put a curry on.”
Ian talks about food the way some people talk about architecture or music. He doesn’t like trends, but he does like details.
“If we do eggs benedict here, I want it to be the best eggs benedict someone’s had,” he says. “Not because we’re trying to be fancy – just because we’ve thought about it more.”
Ian’s mentality was moulded long before he arrived in Tauranga. He grew up in England and spent years cooking his way through Europe. He worked in Michelin-starred kitchens where precision ruled everything. He cooked at three Australian Grand Prix without seeing much more than the inside of a kitchen. Eventually, exhausted by the intensity of hospitality, he decided he wanted out altogether.
He planned an enormous trip from Papua New Guinea to London, using boats and buses, working and diving along the way, but after arriving in Auckland in 2011, he stayed.
“I remember thinking, ‘I’m not doing those chef hours anymore’,” he says, “so I went front-of-house instead – because I’m good with people, I can talk.”
His talent earned him hospitality awards and briefly pulled him away from the kitchen entirely. Then he met Krystal, now his wife, and eventually followed life south to Tauranga. Now they have two daughters, Hine Ao Manawanui and Māia, who have become the centre of everything.
“I probably would have left hospitality completely if this place didn’t happen,” he admits. “It was kind of now or never.”
The Grocer occupies a historic building on The Strand that once housed a grocer’s store, among other things, and Ian liked the idea immediately. He wanted to recreate a neighbourhood place filled with essentials, like preserves, sauces, wine, good bread, conversation. He’s already begun bottling house-made condiments to sell, including tomato ketchup, duck fat and preserves made from ingredients used in the kitchen.
“I like the idea that people can take a little bit of the place home with them,” he says.
The restaurant itself feels warm. There are candles at night, heavy plates, proper portions and staff encouraged to read tables rather than recite scripts.
Ian talks as passionately about service as he does food.
“I wanted adults,” he says of his team. “People with personality. People who can actually read the room.”
He speaks openly about the realities of hospitality too, especially in Tauranga, where rising costs and cautious spending have made survival increasingly difficult for restaurants. He jokes about seeing himself less as a restaurateur and more as a “drug dealer”, trying to get customers hooked on the experience before they drift elsewhere. But behind the humour is very real pressure.
“This winter’s going to be rough for a lot of places,” he says. “You’ll see casualties.”
Ian remains optimistic, partly because he believes Tauranga’s dining culture is changing. He intentionally chose this location before major developments around the waterfront are completed, because he still believes people want genuine hospitality.
That’s also why he’s resisting labels like ‘fine dining’, despite his background. He says he doesn’t want hats or awards. “I don’t care about being a celebrity chef – I really don’t.”
Ironically, Tauranga already treats him like one. Customers regularly stop to talk to him. Diners specifically ask whether he’s cooking that night. His social media videos pull strong engagement, despite the fact he openly admits he hates spending time on his phone.
“I’d rather be home with my wife and kids, having a wine, than sitting on Instagram.”
That said, he understands modern hospitality requires visibility, and so he appears in videos; talks to media, like me; and promotes the restaurant, even if reluctantly.
“No one sells the place better than I do,” he says with a shrug.
Really, all The Grocer’s aiming for is good food, generous hospitality and enough warmth to make people want to stay awhile. And while Tauranga’s still figuring out exactly what its dining culture can become, that might be exactly the right recipe.
ITALIAN TOUCH
Hayley Barnett checks out Tauranga’s hot new spot for serious meat lovers, 1920 Cucina and Grill.
Hayley Barnett checks out Tauranga’s hot new spot for serious meat lovers, 1920 Cucina and Grill. PHOTOS ILK PHOTOGRAPHY
The husband and wife team behind the Mount’s Mamma Mia Trattoria have crossed a bridge — both metaphorically and literally — to fine dining. Though they’d never admit it and are quick to assure me that this new establishment is much more relaxed than it looks. As we sit in a beautiful heritage building, with its elegant high ceilings and the meat cooked to perfection, it certainly feels close.
Having recently opened 1920 Cucina and Grill at 85 The Strand, Luciano Souza and his wife, chef Cimone Juliani, decided to pour their heritage, history and hearts into this new venture, and it shows.
The couple, both born and raised in southern Brazil to Italian families, carry two culinary cultures in their bones, and for 13 years, the pair’s Mount customers would rave, again and again, about the pasta, but also, oddly enough, the steaks. “Some days I cooked more steak than pasta,” Cimone laughs.
While they’ve always stayed close to their Italian roots, they also dreamed of showcasing the rustic barbecue traditions they grew up with.
“In our region, every house has a barbecue,” Luciano explains. “If you’re not hosting one, you go to someone else’s.”
Barbecuing is as natural as breathing, and when paired with the technique-driven Italian dishes they were raised on, the couple found that a new kind of offering emerged. “We thought, why not focus on meat but keep our Italian touch?” says Cimone.
At 1920 Cucina & Grill, that balance is highlighted in the menu. They use premium New Zealand meat, which is something the pair say they appreciate more after years spent cooking abroad.
“The flavour here is amazing,” Luciano says. “It’s tender, fresh, really good to work with.”
Beef Tartare
Among the dishes earning early attention is the Beef Tartare, a first hint that this might be pretty close to fine dining. The Surf and Turf Carpaccio feels equally indulgent. And Luciano’s beloved Beef Ribs embrace that charcoal-barbecue soul he grew up with, cooked low and slow for bone-hugging flavour.
“We don’t like to think of the menu as being a fusion of flavours, but more a harmony of heritage,” says Cimone.
“Much like the structure that houses us, our Cucina & Grill is grounded in history,” adds Luciano. “Our aim is always to bring to the table traditions passed down by generations of our Italian and Southern Brazilian family.”
Pressed Pork with Parmigiano Risotto
The name 1920 is inspired by the era in which 85 The Strand was built and pays tribute to one of Tauranga’s oldest and most iconic buildings. Behind the scenes, the duo are steadily working toward an even bigger dream: a full charcoal kitchen, the kind used across Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay.
“That’s our second phase,” Cimone says. “We want people to know us first, then we’ll bring in the real barbecue.”
For now, it’s not fine dining, they continue to assure. The couple want the new restaurant to be a place where diners can gather and taste the story of two cultures, but mostly where people feel comfortable while eating good food. They’ve certainly achieved that, and if a little fine-dining magic slips through, well I’d say that only adds to the charm.
85 The Strand, Tauranga