The Republic and French onion soup The country’s oldest restaurant is a Port Vila institution. Here, the owner Clement Martinez reveals his part in the birth of the nation. It would be extremely rare for a restaurateur to be able to say they played a role in the birth of a nation. But for Clement Martinez, owner of L’Houstalet, the country’s oldest restaurant, it is no idle boast. The French-born chef and bon vivant vividly remembers the small, but real, part he played in the much-awaited birth of Vanuatu. It was 18 September 1979 and would-be political leaders, church leaders and chiefs were meeting at the Condominium to draft the constitution for the new nation. “They had been meeting all day and we were all waiting with bated breath, like Catholics wait to see the white smoke announcing a new Pope at the Vatican,” Clement says. “Suddenly, it was 9pm, then it was midnight, and it was now 19 September and still nothing. We knew it was important that the constitution be drafted because representatives of the French and British governments were due within days to begin the
soup?’ and I said: ‘Sure, how many are you?’ ” Clement returned to his restaurant to prepare the soup and about 40 people joined him and supped on this classic French entrée. Somewhere around 4am, all parties finally agreed on the draft constitution and, as the official plaque on the front of L’Houstalet proudly proclaims, it was “the first decisive step in the independence of the country”. “I remember it so well, and they ended up staying at the restaurant all night,” says Clement. It was undoubtedly L’Houstalet and Clement’s finest hour, historically at least, but this legendary Pacific eatery has known myriad fine moments since it first opened its doors in 1973. Clement remembers with relish how a friend from Port Vila had travelled to New York to visit the United Nations and check out details of a grant that he had received. “My friend told the UN official that he was from Vanuatu and the official said: ‘Are you from Port Vila?’ ” Clement
process that would see the birth of the republic. “At 3am, I closed my nightclub and went to see what was happening. When I got to the Condominium, they were taking a break and there was still no result and one of the politicians recognised me and said: ‘Hey, have you got any of that French onion soup?’ and I said: ‘Yes.’ “Then the father of our nation, Walter Lini, came out and said: ‘Hey, how about some French onion
recalls. “When he replied, yes, the official cried: ‘Do you know Clement and L’Houstalet?’ Imagine that – all those millions in New York and he comes across someone who knows me and my restaurant.” Clement Martinez was born near Carcassonne in the war-torn south of France in 1942. He remembers nothing of the war itself. He spent a normal childhood in that region as the eldest of seven children and his parents ran a hotel in the village, so
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PiCTURES: Leith Campbell
FOOD+DINING
the hospitality industry was part of his earliest memories. He always wanted to be a chef and, after French training, he went to England and worked in a hotel kitchen in Leicester for a few years. “I then spent a year working for Air France in an office, waiting to become a flight steward, but that never happened,” he says. But the lust for travel was in Clement’s blood and he accepted a position as catering manager at a hotel in Tahiti, where he worked for five years. In 1969, he was offered the position of catering manager at the soon-to-be-opened Le Lagon, which was to be the New Hebrides’ first international class hotel. “I wasn’t that keen as I had a young family at the time and was established where I was but they said, come over and have a look, it’ll cost you nothing, so I thought, why not?” he says. “I
felt right away that this was a place I would like to stay.” Clement’s early memories of the New Hebrides were of the strange dual rule of the French and British and how the native people were unable to move from place to place without a Letter to Travel from one or the other. “And that stayed like that until 1980 – can you imagine?” he says. After intensive training of kitchen and front-of-house staff for Le Lagon, Clement was released from his contract after the French owner sold the resort to a Japanese company in 1972. Like most chefs, Clement had always harboured a desire for his own restaurant and L’Houstalet was born on adjacent rented sites in 1973, with one of the sites being a failed restaurant that came with the bonus of a fitted kitchen. “It was well out of town at the time
and the road outside was just two tracks with grass growing between them – there was nothing else,” he recalls, with his trademark smile. Describing himself as a provincial French chef, Clement says ‘L’Houstalet’ translates as ‘home farm stay’ and he feels strongly that, with his restaurant’s low ceilings, dark wooden beams and stucco walls, he has achieved the ambience he was seeking. Once he had established his restaurant, he was keen to branch out with a nightclub. “It wasn’t the first in Vila but I definitely had the first disco,” he says. In 1987, Cyclone Uma destroyed almost everything in Port Vila and Clement was forced to rebuild. He finally closed his nightclub/disco in 2000. “It was so bad then,” is all he will say about that part of his enterprise. FOOD+DINING
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Fast forward to 2011 and his restaurant still has the desired Gallic provincial, welcoming feel to it. It can seat 150 and Clement has 30 staff, with many of the original kitchen crew still with him. “Now I am teaching their children, but I still come into the restaurant every day to keep them all going down the path I want, even though I retired four years ago!” he says with his infectious laugh. When discussing L’Houstalet’s longevity, Clement admits his menu has not changed for 25 years. He speaks fondly of his classic dishes – with none more famous than his flying fox (or bat) in a red wine and garlic marinade. “Many, many years ago, a friend took me to his plantation at Devil’s Point,” Clement says. “He told me about the flying foxes, fired shots into a tree, dropping about four of them. My friend grabbed these bats, wings, crap and all, and dropped them in a large vat of boiling water. We then went further into his plantation and dealt with his cattle and heaps of pigs that were almost wild, which looked like they’d eat anything. “We got back to the barrels of
“I decided to put it on the menu and treat it like rabbit, which meant I would gut it, then marinate it,” he says. “This worked well but the locals kept telling me that it should be eaten the way it was, with its intestines etc. “I agreed and tried it on the menu uncleaned, and I sometimes winced when people told me how nice the stuffing was.” Years and years later, his flying fox in red wine and garlic is still a highly popular dish. “I sell several a day; it tastes like venison,” he says. “People come here at least once a week, every week, year after year, and they expect that this dish or that will taste just as they like it, remember it, and that is my biggest challenge.” There are 19 pizza dishes that long-term locals rave about, six pasta dishes, then the French influence kicks in with classics like the aforementioned French onion soup and garlic snails. The menu is liberally sprinkled with beef and seafood dishes, including classics like a (reasonably priced) lobster Thermidor. Although wild pigeon could be served pretty much anywhere, the flying fox in red wine and garlic with rice drags you back to
boiling water after more than an hour and I had forgotten about these flying foxes but my friend lifted one out by the wing. He then took a large knife, cut the bat and sucked out the innards, and I must admit I wasn’t too impressed.” Clement forgot this episode but, as his restaurant developed, he was determined to marry his provincial French cuisine and style with things local, and people kept telling him about eating flying fox/bat.
the Pacific. Cheeses and desserts, including chocolate profiteroles, are distinctly cosmopolitan but the staff is strictly ni-Van, knowledgeable and comfortable in their surrounds. Clement Martinez, looking years younger than his actual age, is a nuggety, bouncy figure, who rightly enjoys the fact that his restaurant is something special – even legendary in the annals of modern Pacific history. By Tony Wilson
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Anchor Inn, expat favourite.
Sarah’s Takeaway, budget bites.
Jill’s Cafe and book exchange.
FOOD+DINING A guide to Vila’s best budget lunches Where to have a light meal without breaking the bank. Although the quality of Vanuatu restaurant fare is well above that generally available in other Pacific island holiday haunts – generally being fresher, more adventurous, tastier and better presented — the fact remains that those on a shoestring budget could have difficulty finding the path to ultimate value. Here, then, is the lowdown on cheap eats in Vila, from east to west, airport to wharf. ANCHOR INN The Anchor Inn is a Friday night expat watering hole. But it’s also a very pleasant place to have a lunchtime bite and get a great view of the water. The burger is its most famous fare – plain and simple for AU$7, with fries on the side, if you please. SARAH’S TAKEAWAY Located approximately 1km out of town, towards the airport, this small but clean diner serves local clientele with a tasty selection of four or five curries with rice, served from modern bains-marie. At only AU$4.50, you’d better get in early. BEEFHOUSE A raised deck and natangura roof providing shade from the midday sun welcomes you at the Beefhouse restaurant, opposite the Bred Bank. From top: the Anchor Inn is in a stunning waterfront location; Sarah’s Takeaway specialises in curry and rice dishes; Jill’s Café includes a popular book exchange.
Daily specials from less than AU$10 include steak, curries and fresh fish. OLYMPIC CAFE If a meal on the run is your thing, and fast food does not offend, then try the Olympic Café, next door to Goodies on the main street. Fast service and consistent tucker — with burgers and chips for AU$7 or less, it can’t be beaten! THE DAILY SNACK Down on the main street opposite the Digicel store is this little Vietnamese wonder. Jo, the owner, runs a welloiled operation. The dish to choose is combination pho soup (chicken and beef together or you may have either). A ‘small’ serve is AU$8. JILL’S CAFE In the main street, this Vila institution is a regular haunt for all-comers, from bankers to cruise boat bods. The menu is extensive and wholesome American/Mexican, priced from AU$5 to AU$15. CHILL Upstairs above Au Bon Marché, next to the fruit market, is one of Vila city’s lunchtime gems for expats. The AU$13 lunch special is well worth a mention. Or you could try the daily pizza – it’s a favourite. SKY GARDEN KOREAN RESTAURANT Located 1km behind the CBD, just down from the French School. It’s a contemporary edifice that serves a lunch box special for around AU$10. By Mark Saville Note: Prices in AU$ are approximate. FOOD+DINING
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