The ship has a small wine list, which the passengers scrutinize into the waning days of the voyage as if this were La Tour d’Argent rather than an aging Soviet oceanographic vessel. There is a system where you can buy a bottle of wine that gets labeled with your cabin number and brought down for you at dinner by the lecturer on cetacean biology, or more satisfyingly (since he’s French) the ship’s expert on birds.
Antarctica, the only continent without a Michelin star, has never been a destination for fine dining. We've all been to the historic huts and seen the ghastly parade of canned Edwardian organ meats, probably no less indedible after a hundred winters on the ice than they were back in 1907. The culinary history of the continent (entertainingly laid out in a book called Hoosh) is one of suffering and deprivation.
At Razza, we aspire to the Italian way of cooking and eating, where location and seasonality dictate your ingredients. You eat the vegetables that are grown near you and stray from the ones that are not. The seasons and your land will tell you which ingredients to prepare. That process is carried through every decision we make because it is the ingredients we use that help us create the best possible food. The flour we use is milled in Clifton. We make our own bread and our own butter. Each ingredient is hand-picked, down to the salt that goes on the pizza. We have grown our own yeast culture that we believe makes a better pie. Our beer and wine list has been selected specifically to pair with our food, even if it means a brand or label almost completely unknown. If it’s the best, that’s what we want.