Couqley has a great reputation in its homeland of Lebanon. It is the go-to place for accessible French bistro cuisine. Unsurprisingly, and like most things Lebanese, Couqley has made its way to the shores of Dubai, staking its mark at the Movenpick Hotel in JLT.

New restaurant, Couqley in JLT opens up into a deceptively large space, once you enter through the doors.  There is an “outdoor” indoor dining area that benefits from instant charm thanks to the overhanging greenery and garden wall.  Once through the double doors, mosaic tiled floors and wood paneled walls greet you as your tall, attractive hostess guides you to your table.

The large dining room is cleverly split into different areas, so you don’t feel like you are in a cavernous French dining barracks.  The lights are inspired by the elegant Paris Metro, specifically Cité station on line 4, (for the train spotters out there), and there is a wonderful red brick railway arch and is home to an intimate booth table. In the back is what looks like a private dining room, in the form of a paneled library.

Several mirrors have bright yellow art deco back lights, which was rather startling and counter-productive for an intimate, cozy French bistro.  The trouble with yellow is that as a colour, it is non-emotional and very analytical.  Studies have been done – it’s a colour that comes from the head, not the heart. That’s why legal pads are yellow.  Food is all about emotion and heart and in my opinion, they would benefit from softening this up a little.  However,  I understand it has served them well in their original restaurant so perhaps I know nothing.

Couqley has only just opened their doors, so the place is very new and you sense that in the dining room. I think what I missed was a little character – a French bistro needs to be able to tell a few stories, have a few character marks in the tables, a couple of cracked tiles near the kitchen pass, a few scratches on the bar counter. When I was a kid and got brand new trainers, I would spend the first week scuffing them up, so they didn’t look so new. Couqley needs scuffing up.

The menu is classic French bistro fare – it is as if Le Petite Maison and Pauls had a love child. And because we were in a French restaurant, the Serb immediately ordered the Burrata, an Italian dish. I held up my end of the bargain and ordered the onion soup gratinee. Viva La France.

The onion soup arrived piping hot, with a generous layer of melted Emmental cheese on a piece of baguette.  The Latin word Suppa means ‘bread soaked in broth’ and is the reason why the French onion soup has the bread slice in it and why many kinds of soup are adorned with croutons.  Couqley’s soup was earthy, strong and had that lingering sweetness that comes from the caramelized onions.

The Burrata was a little watery once the mozzarella shell was broken, although the bed of marinated vegetables were excellent.

We both went for beef, but that was because we were feeling rather unadventurous.  The menu flaunts such dishes as crab cakes, Moules Frites, Duck Confit, grilled salmon and others, so they obviously cater for less boring diners too.  They also have a rather tasty beverage menu with some very affordable bottles of grape.

The filet boeuf arrived with a potato gratin.  The gratin was rich, creamy and with a good bite to the potato.  However, it could have done with some extra seasoning; salt and maybe a pinch of nutmeg or something.  The filet of beef was ordered medium well but arrived horribly undercooked. I think the chef cooked it over the flare of three matches and then put it on the plate.  We obviously sent it back. It was then held over a Bic lighter for an additional two seconds and returned to our table.  I obviously exaggerate, but in such a competitive market, it’s a school boy error to undercook a steak.  Twice.  On the other hand, it’s an undercooked steak – it’s not the end of the world and in all fairness, despite the temperature of the meat, the quality was very good.

My steak frites were exceptional, much to my glee and the Serb’s jealousy.  The meat was cooked perfectly, and submerged in a generous pool of decadent signature sauce.  Their secret sauce was creamy, rich and probably butter based (If it tastes good, it’s probably got butter in). It was almost as good as the original Café De Paris sauce it was inspired from.  The French fries were clean, crispy and delicious once soggy with sauce.

Their espresso was a disaster – cold, flat and it wouldn’t have been out of place in a motorway service station vending machine. But I’m not so worried about that – that’s an easy fix, to be honest, and wouldn’t deter me from returning.

So here you have the magic of Dubai, all in one place. You have a Lebanese company operating a classic French bistro in a Swiss hotel in Dubai. That’s the future of Dubai’s authenticity, in my opinion.

The Couqley has a good future ahead of them.  If they can tidy up a few food issues, and bring a little character to the interior, they will have a very successful restaurant on their hands.  My suggestion is to swing by for a casual meal, an affordable bottle of plonk and make sure you scuff it up a little while you’re there.

receipt

minilogo Couqley French Bistro

 

Maine Oyster Bar and Grill takes its name from the State of Maine, in North East America – a state famous for lobsters, clams, and rolling coast lines.

The restaurant, however, is located in the SoMa area (South Marina) in the car park of the Double Tree Hilton.  I’m not a big fan of oysters, so I didn’t think I could ever write a review about an oyster bar without trying the oysters.  Then I saw Trump run for President – so here i am, reviewing an oyster bar without trying the oysters.

We were greeted by three smiling, well-groomed ladies, who after a moment of confusion, turned out to be guests also waiting to be seated. The real hostesses were no less groomed or smiley though and we were taken quickly to our table.

The room, an exact square, is classic contemporary – New England meets Le Petite Maison.  The pillars are clad in white wooden slates; the floor is polished concrete, and the back bar is distressed white brick.  On the left is the open kitchen and raw bar and on the right is the bar with good looking bartenders serving good looking cocktails.  The banquettes and couches have the type of throw cushions I would use at my Hamptons beach house.  If I had a Hamptons beach house.

Maine is extremely popular with the ladies, and that was proven by me being one of the only men in the restaurant.  No wonder the manager walks around with a big smile on his face.  I too, know what it feels like to be able to comp a bottle of champagne to a table of pretty ladies!  Not all heroes wear capes; some also bring bubbles.

The bar allows smoking, and early evening I could catch a whiff from our table in the restaurant.  However, it is said that our senses are heightened when hungry, especially our sense of smell, so maybe I was just a hungry smoke ninja when I first sat down.

The Serb insisted on calling it Maine Ostrich Bar and Grill. Maine is not known for their ostrich, and I pointed this out to her. As soon as she said it, she asked me not to put her comment in the review as she would sound silly.  I assured her I wouldn’t.

There was an acoustic battle that raged on throughout the evening between the increasingly loud chatter of guests and the ever increasing warbling of the playlist.  In the end, there was no winner, just noise.

The menu plays out like a Billboard top 40 list – safe, comforting and familiar.  Chef Liam’s strategy is obviously not to reinvent or waste time following food trends, but to deliver all the classics as they were meant to be.

The restaurant landscape has changed so much – menus have got intense and exciting, culinary inventions are abound and new ways of doing things are around every corner.  Therefore, it is somewhat comforting to read a menu that grounds you, allows you to catch your breath, and brings some solid land beneath your feet.

For starters, we ordered the Crabocado, and I had visions of a disaster movie with a tornado of crabs, for some reason.  We also tried the lobster roll, because you can’t go to a Maine-inspired restaurant without trying the lobster.  That’s like going to an oyster bar without trying the oysters.  Who does that?!  We also threw a truffle pizza onto the order because we’re Fatty McFatface.

The lobster roll was good, but it is hard to mess up a lobster roll. The bread was toasted to a fragrant char – crispy on the first bite, with a chewy finish.  The lobster flesh was fresh and sweet, and it was served with thin potato crisps.

The pizza was earthy and musky, sweet but savory.  Truffle paste with shimeji mushrooms and a glistening sheen of fontina cheese. You either like truffles, or you don’t.  The crab meat in the Crabnado was cold, fresh, clean and seasoned correctly.  It was served on a bed of crushed avocado with a lemon half.

Pricewise, the menu seemed well placed – premium but not over the top.  Except, the Dover sole swam in at a cool 255 dhs.  I don’t know if that’s a Brexit price, but I steered well clear.

We ordered the fish and chips, and the battered cod arrived looking like a wooden clog made by IKEA for an NBA player – but in a good way.  It was a generous, flakey piece of fish, in a thick, crunchy batter.  However, there was a lot of oil hidden in that crust and after few mouthfuls, you could start to feel it.  The chips were hand cut, probably double blanched and definitely very good.

The spicy shrimp linguini was an enjoyable dish.  The linguini was cooked just past al dente and the sauce was lively, fresh and a touch spicy.  The sauce coated the pasta without drowning it, and the shrimp had enough size to bring that fleshy bite to the bowl.

Service was enthusiastic however, banter and conversation were attempted and discarded all in one breath by our server.  Perhaps it was my personality that put him off, but I doubt that because I’m pretty damn charming.  If one was pedantic, there were a few service flaws, but nothing that ruined the experience.  Changing knives and forks between courses isn’t going to plunge the place into chaos, for example.

You know a restaurant has impressed the Serb as she always says it reminds her of New York, regardless of the concept.  We could be in an Igloo in Eastern Siberia eating whale meat sushi with some Eskimos, and it would remind her of some restaurant in Lower Manhattan.

However, The Serb, as usual, is right.  Maine Oyster Bar and Grill is a cracking little restaurant, with a well-executed menu and a lively and attractive atmosphere, despite being deep into Ramadan.  Well done to Joey and the team.

Welcome to Maine. The way life should be.

Oh, and also, I would love your vote at the BBC Good Food Awards as best food blogger. Vote for me, if only to see how I manage to maintain my anonymity while collecting the award. That should be fun! Click here, if you have the time.  Thanks!

minilogo Maine Oyster Bar and Grill

Thai Restaurant, Smiling BKK.

I woke up the other day with an insane craving for flavour, taste, and spice. I felt like I had spent the last few weeks in a tasteless wasteland and I desperately wanted to remind my mouth what it was like to live and feel alive. I needed spices and layers of flavour; I needed my taste buds to bounce with nervous anticipation of the next mouthful of food. I needed to find an Indian restaurant and fast.

With an online reservation confirmed for the Mint Leaf of Jumeirah, (not to be confused with The Mint Leaf of London), The Serb and I made our way down into the mosh pit of diversions and construction which is Jumeriah Beach Road, happy to get lost, knowing such a reward awaited us at the end.

Arriving at the Jumeriah Fishing Harbour, it was eerily quiet, with the car park empty and the lights off.  A lone security guard approached us and with him came a sense of impending doom.  He informed us that everything was closed for the whole month. I felt my taste buds die a little at that moment.

In a city of over nine thousand restaurants, it is surprisingly difficult to find somewhere suitable to eat, especially when your mind is paralyzed with desperation and hunger and you can’t think straight.  Despite the Serb being tired and wanting to choose another restaurant nearby, I decided to drive to another Indian restaurant in JLT instead.  However, on Al Wasl Road, The Serbs loud yawning made me reconsider, and I spotted a suitable alternative that would satiate my insane quest for flavour.

Smiling BKK is a bit of an institution in Dubai, the first restaurant being in Garhoud, serving authentic Thai food in an over-the-top, tongue in cheek restaurant interpretation of what Westerners think Bangkok restaurants look like. If those westerners took a lot of acid.

Thai food is ultimately about balance; balance of flavours, textures, and complexity.  Thai food will be sour, sweet, salty, bitter, and spicy, and sometimes all of them at the same time.  It is a complexity that if done right, harmonizes and balances in the smell, texture and taste of the dishes.

The same complexity and chaos can be seen in Smiling BKK’s restaurant design, but without the harmony.  It is a Jackson Pollack canvas of craziness, a restaurant that revels in the madness it has created.

The exterior looks like one of those massage places that no-one ever admits going into, but everyone has a ‘friend’ who has been. Pulling open the doors, we entered into another universe.

Sitting at one of the black wooden booths, we were given our oversized menu. I think the menu was created during an Ayahuasca retreat, and you feel like you are on one yourself after reading the first fifteen pages.  It is almost an out of body experience.  Their menu is famous for two reasons – the sheer size of it (rumour has it, Bangkok’s Yellow Pages are thinner) and the inventive, somewhat eyebrow-raising names of dishes.  Luckily The Serb’s sensibilities were protected as Dubai Municipality has also paid a visit, and the menu is now covered with black marker edits, boasting more censorship on its menu than 50 Shades of Gray had in the movie theatres.

The little restaurant was full, with a collection of characters, including several celebrities cardboard cut-outs, such as Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, (not sitting together obviously) The Rock and Gandolf the Grey.  With so many celebs dining that evening, the waitress was obviously quite busy, so I was fully understanding of the 10-minute wait to place our order.

I started with a Thai iced tea, which was a slightly sweet tea, boiled to the precise point of stewing, then poured over ice with a dash of milk. It was strong, flavourful and refreshing. The Serb ordered a coke, which was sweet, brown and fizzy.

We shared the Tom Yum Gai, which is one of the world’s most famous soups.  Tom Yum is a soup made with a broth base, lemongrass, kaffir limes, galangal, chilies and a fish sauce. It is the perfect dish to explain the harmony and balance that Thai cooking is all about. The limes provide the tangy sourness, and the chilies provide the heat and kick.  The fragrant spices and herbs add the balance and the broth harmonizes it all.

Smiling BKK’s Tom Yum soup was like a perfectly orchestrated jazz band – playing in an insane asylum.  Three spoons in and my cheeks started to sweat, and my mouth was tingling.  It was exactly what I needed.

Halfway through the meal, two men walked in, had a quick look around and quickly left. I can only assume they were looking for a massage parlor and ended up in the wrong place. I’m also pretty sure I saw another customer try to start a conversation with Selena in the corner.

I ordered the Wax On, which is Guay Tiaw Kua Gai or stir-fried rice noodles with chicken, vegetables and egg. This is a famous street food in Thailand, and the best versions are when they allow the noodles to char and absorb the subtle flavours of a well-used street wok. Smiling BKK’s didn’t quite get that char, but their noodles were greasy chewy, sweet yet salty with bold flavours and tender chicken pieces.  A very enjoyable dish.

The Serb ordered the Gold Finger or Kao Pad, which is Thai fried rice with carrots, spring onions, and egg. This particular dish differs from Chinese fried rice, primarily because it is from Thailand, not China. Also, because it uses a short grain rice, in case you were interested. The Chinese use long grain. This dish didn’t hit the heights of the other dishes for me, and I couldn’t grasp the ubiquitous fish sauce that should have provided more punch. The overall balance was also lost due to the dryness of the dish – I think they overcooked the eggs. There is a famous saying from the street-food stalls of Bangkok, “Dry eggs, dry rice.” OK, there isn’t – but there should be.

We left with our bodies satiated and satisfied, but our minds a jumble of emotion and confusion at the sheer obscurity and randomness of Smiling BKK. It is a confusing, mad-hatter journey down the rabbit hole.  It’s crazier than a cat in a paper bag.

The best thing is that Smiling BKK are unapologetic about their ridiculousness and it’s no wonder they have such a strong fan base.  They back their quirkiness up with some serious food.

If you haven’t been before, swing by and try it for yourself. Whatever you do, don’t take a first date there – they will either love it, and you’ll have to marry them immediately, or they will hate it, and you’ll never see them again.

minilogo Smiling BKK

Have you ever wondered about the names of your neighborhood or community and what they mean? I’m not talking about Arabian Ranches or The Lakes because I would hope everyone can understand what they mean.

I’m talking about the more traditional names, like Al Wasl, or Umm Sequiem for example. They must mean something – words are not just invented unless the Founding Fathers held counsel with a 2-year-old boy who gurgled his way across the Dubai map.

For example, did you know, Al Jaddaf means The Rower, because that is where the old ship building yards used to operate from, or Abu Hail means The Father of Sand Dunes?

However, when it comes to origins or meanings of the names of places in Dubai, one very quickly understands that reality and myth weave together in a tapestry of folklore and fact, poetry and principles, stories and statements.

The little documentation that exists has been blurred by the sands of time and although these place names have roots firmly embedded in the Arabic language, one must refer to stories and myths for further insights.

What we are left with is at best, historical mentions, mostly folklore and poetry, and at worst, utter guesswork.

This work is in no way claiming to be factually correct, and there are going to be incorrect interpretations, but I hope it creates some interest and stimulates some conversation.

Just click on the neighbourhood names on the interactive map below and educate yourselves! You’ll often find there is more than one interpretation. Choose your favourite and impress your friends with an embellished story about it.

Data compiled by various sources, including Arabic scholars, archived newspaper articles and Google.

08-1

In some aspects, there is an advantage to visiting a high profile restaurant several months after their opening, because by then usually a couple of important things would have happened.  Firstly, the ridiculous hype and excitement and overall hysteria of another international restaurant coming to Dubai would have subsided, and everyone would have calmed down and stopped acting like a group of teenage girls who got free tickets to a Justin Beiber concert.

Secondly, after a few months, any compromises or short cuts the restaurant will have to make, would have been made already. –You know what I mean – that promise of daily, hand-crafted egg pasta quietly becomes a dried alternative out of a packet or those artisanal white truffle shavings suddenly gets replaced by truffle flavoured canola oil and parmesan shavings.

Burger and Lobster serves two things – burgers and lobsters. I am a big fan of restaurants focusing on one or two items on their menu – it’s a bit like being a kicking specialist in the NFL.  However, if you are only going to focus on kicking, then you better be able to kick like a mule and do it better than anyone else in your team. It would be mighty embarrassing if your only job is to kick the ball, and the water boy is better at it than you are. Same goes for B&L – their burgers and lobsters should be up there with the best of them because if they aren’t – well then there isn’t really anything else available.

So, the Serb and I decided it was time to see how well B&L were doing after their opening honeymoon and when the Serb found out we were going to a place that specialized only in burgers she immediately turned into a schoolgirl who had just received free tickets to a Justin Beiber concert. Figuratively, not literally.

The restaurant is in DIFC, but one of the overflow buildings – the Burj Haman building. I would think you would be able to walk comfortably to it – if you lived in the apartments upstairs. Otherwise, it is definitely a drive and valet situation.

The restaurant is on the first floor and after a short walk past the lobster tanks where your dinner stares at you with mournful eyes, you enter a large room with dramatic lighting and a bunch of seating options including booths that seem a little too much like lobster cages.  In fact, the whole room reminded me a little like a warehouse of a lobster sorting facility for some reason – but in a really good way – and without the smell.  Expect exposed red bricks, American diner style booths, warm, moody lighting and accents of industrial steel.

B&L are licensed, thanks to the magic of DIFC zoning regulations, so there is a cocktail and beverage menu on the table, but of course no food menu. One would hope the servers would remember what’s available. We ordered our drinks and being traditionalists, asked the server to give us a few minutes to think about our food choices. We are all for change, but it takes time.

It’s lucky I’m a seasoned pro at this restaurant gig, as I was able to explain the concept to the Serb because it seemed no-one employed at B&L wanted to – which is a big indication to me. Is this perhaps an unwanted compromise setting in (in my mind, dramatic music is now playing.) I also asked our server where the beef and lobster came from and got a rather monosyllabic response of ‘Australia’ and ‘Canada.’ I didn’t expect the head chef to come out and offer a personalized introduction to the lobster I was about to eat, but a little more enthusiasm from the server would have improved the experience.

Only having two choices on the menu means you can’t punish uninspired responses by choosing something else, so we ordered a burger, and a lobster roll and our server asked us if we wanted anything else. I don’t know if this was a trick question as I’m not sure what else we could have ordered at that stage.   Perhaps it was some remnant of up-selling training from her previous job that subconsciously took effect.

While waiting for the cooks to work their magic, we happily listened to their eclectic soundtrack of soul-feeding, boogie tunes, such as the Flow Dynamics and Tom Browne and watched as a few large tables of friends sat down and tied their B&L bibs round their necks. Shortly the food arrived.

First the burger. The portion was big, and there was a generous patty of around 300 grams of Australian beef.   The presentation was great – served in a metal tray with a paper liner – very instagramable.   The fries were regular frozen fries, but cooked to a good colour in clean frying oil and the side salad was a crisp, fresh selection of mesclun greens with a parmesan dressing that gave it a nice creaminess.

However, B&L don’t season their beef at all and so, to compensate for this lack of flavoring, they load up their house-made bun with a mayo based lettuce slaw. What this does though is create a burger that has as much structural integrity as a cardboard box in a thunder storm, and it very quickly turns into a soggy mess. This is one of a few times that I have had to use a knife and fork on a burger. By the time I got to the last few blobs, I would have been better using a spoon. I can see why bibs are offered now, and it’s not for the lobster. I think my official, technical feedback for the burger is ‘Meh.’ Yes, the capital M is needed.

The lobster roll fared much better; you’ll be pleased to know.  The bread was a lightly toasted, fresh brioche loaf, half stuffed with a healthy portion of lobster meat. Typically, the lobster should come in a light coating of mayo and lemon juice with a touch of seasoning – the key is to let the flavour of the meat do the talking. B&L got it bang on; the lobster was juicy, sweet, tender and well seasoned.  The bread held up well, even after pouring their delicious, artery thickening lemon garlic butter over the meat.  The classic lobster roll is perfect in its simplicity, and B&L have a pretty good version, I’m happy to say.

After hosing down the table and cleaning our hands, mouths and in my case the majority of my face, we skipped dessert and asked for the bill. All the food on the menu is 127 dhs each, and add a couple of drinks to your burger, and you are paying upwards of 50US$ or 35 quid for your meal.

See, here’s the thing when it comes to value for money. Consumers have a pretty complicated algorithm that they use when calculating if something is worth their money. They are not only taking into consideration that it was a big burger or the franchise development fee was expensive – they are thinking about so much more and restaurants need to be aware of that. Customers intrinsically have a value of their precious leisure time already calculated in their minds, and they also remember that it took a gargantuan effort to peel themselves off the couch and away from House of Cards on Netflix. For the Serb, if she still had an episode of House of Cards left to watch, she wouldn’t leave that couch even if Gordon Ramsay himself wanted to personally cook her lunch. Frank Underwood beats Gordon Ramsay hands down.

Overall B&L can be proud of their lobster program, and I can see the restaurant being a great place for a large group of well-funded friends meeting for a casual, uncomplicated bite to eat with a few drinks.

I’ll be back, but only for their lobster. I’m sure I saw one give me a wink on the way out.

minilogo Burger and Lobster

Back in 1841 two friends bought some land in the South East corner of Australia. One of them was called Tom, and they named the estate Brunswick, which is now a popular suburb of Melbourne.

Fast forward to 2016 and two friends rented a restaurant space in the South(ish) East corner of Mall of Emirates. One of them was also called Tom, and they too named it The Brunswick Sports Club, which is also now a popular hang-out for Dubai residents. Creepy similarities, right? What’s even creepier is that it’s a true story – kind of.

Anyway, Tom & Serg have opened their fourth F&B establishment, and they do seem to have developed a certain formula for cranking out popular haunts. However, I have their magic formula figured out, and I’ve put it into a simple five-step process for you.

  1. Choose a type of eatery that is well known but hasn’t been redefined since the seventies. (Cafes, sports bars, perhaps even Mexican, etc.)
  2. Redefine it. (Craft beverages, on-trend food, beards, tattoos, annoyingly good knowledge about coffee, etc.)
  3. Hire all the cool kids, in all shapes, colours, sizes, and hairstyles. Teach them not to say Ma’amSir.
  4. Sprinkle some magic dust and open the doors.
  5. Receive industry award three months later.

Easy, right? You can all go out and open your very own restaurant now, thanks to me.

The Brunswick Sports Club is an achingly retro sports bar that has had some modern day upgrades on a backdrop of industrial decor. Chilled keg rooms and walk in chillers have now become visual displays of products and old posters of sports and pictures of lesser known sporting heroes hang from brick walls.

The space surprisingly feels light and airy but is intimate and relaxed at the same time. There is an “outdoor” indoor smoking area and the toilets are ‘locker rooms.’ There are two seating choices – up high with padded bar stools or down low with hard wood benches. The Serb wanted up high, as she has a very delicate derriere (apparently) and the hard seating was uncomfortable. I wanted to sit down low, as I prefer to be as close to my food as possible and boast a rather studier backside. There could really only be one winner, though – so we sat up top at one of the high benches and looked through the menus. On a side note, the table configuration is very well thought-out as it allows groups of friends to congregate around a high table and all be at the same level, regardless if you are sitting or standing.

The T&S team know where their strengths lie, but more importantly they understand their limitations. Consequently, they rarely try to re-invent the wheel, but they are bloody good at making it better – a lot better.

The beverage menu is like a teenager that has just gone through puberty and is starting to mature into a nice young man. That’s a horrible analogy – possibly the worst I have written. What I am trying to say is that the beverage menu is young, accessible and playful without being immature and childish. The eight draught selections are all about quality and variety and come in four different sizes as is normal in Australia. There is a section called “Shooters and Fun Stuff” and the grape choices are quaffable and unpretentious. Yes, I just used the word, quaffable.

The food menu is basic, simple yet seriously upgraded – like a Nissan Sunny that has been on Pimp My Ride and now has a Jacuzzi for three in the back. The menu is split into simple categories – snacks, shares, burgers, dogs and main plates. The burgers choices are inventive and plentiful – thirteen burger choices, from The Hula Girl to The Mac Daddy. There seems to be no end to the world’s fascination with burgers.

We ordered the cheesy mac bites, which are crispy fried mac & cheese cubes, with a sweet chili mayo. Once you crack open the breading, the gooey cheese oozes out with chunks of macaroni pasta, like the gory special effects of a B horror movie. However, it tasted ridiculously good, and I am salivating over my keyboard at the memory of it.

We also ordered the buttermilk fried chicken, with Frank’s hot sauce. The chicken was over fried and came out a little too dark which made the chicken a little too chewy to be a hit for me. Also, in case you were wondering, Frank’s sauce is very hot.

The food is served on the old school white enamelware metal plates and dishes with the blue rim. The kind my dad uses when camping. The great thing about these metal plates is they won’t break when you throw them at the TV because your team just lost and you know the chefs aren’t microwaving your food in them because they would explode.

We also ordered the lamb bangers and the buttermilk chicken burger. My sausages were juicy and fatty – as they should be – full of flavor and elevated by fresh herbs and seasoning. The mashed potatoes were creamy, hot and spot on, as were the peas, whose minty kiss brought a freshness to the whole plate. However, the rosemary jus was overly sweet for me – sickly sweet – and didn’t help at all with the balance of the dish. More rosemary, less sugar in your jus, please, Brunswick!

The buttermilk chicken burger was stellar and their house made brioche bun (in whose house it was made, I’m not sure) was a wonderful vessel for the crispy chicken and other fillings. It was spicy and lively with, (of course) a Sriracha mayonnaise, fresh iceberg and a generous slice of tomato.

There are troughs running down the length of the tables, which house all the cutlery, hot sauces, napkin and a variety of plants. It’s a nice touch but does mean there is a large trough running down the middle of your table. It causes havoc with the sharing plates, because when you don’t have a middle of the table, you don’t have any sharing space. Also, I think I might have lost a few minty peas down there on the way to sharing them with The Serb. My apologies. I bet the servers loved the designers for that detail.

Overall, Brunswick has raised the bar when it comes to sports bars. They have a few minor quirks, and I’m not sure how the bar & kitchen would cope when it is rammed for a big weekend night, but overall, they have a good game plan, and it was executed exceptionally well while I had my lunch there.

The Brunswick Sports Club is hidden behind a massive sliding door in the Sheraton Hotel in Mall of the Emirates, which is the least likely place to have a “neighbourhood sports bar” feel – but if anyone can make something work in an obscure location, it’s the Bull & Roo Team. It must be that magic dust they have.

And just imagine, this all started back in 1841 when two friends bought some land in the South East corner of Australia.

 

 

minilogo The Brunswick Sports Club

I’m a big fan of the number three. There are many reasons for this – birth, life, and death or beginning, middle and end – it is a complete cycle unto itself – it is past, present and future. But the most important reason I like the number three is that Steve Jobs used it in his presentations a lot.

The Blue Armada Hotel in JLT is benefiting from the power of three. They have Mythos, Nola and now The Cocktail Kitchen. Easily the best F&B trio in JLT, perhaps even in the new Dubai area.

I’ve reviewed both Mythos and Nola before, and you can find links to those reviews here and here.

This is about my experience at  Cocktail Kitchen, and I would like to point out, for the record that I ate at this restaurant well before Sheikh Hamdan ate there.

Cocktail Kitchen is another example of young expat professionals taking the brave entrepreneurial leap to create something that is a reflection of their talent, their hopes, and their dreams. These places deserve every chance to succeed, to be tried at least once and to be supported as much as they deserve to be supported.

The interior of CK is sleek, angular and bordering on minimalistic. There are lots of straight lines, with granite grays, pale woods, and pastel greens. However, I think there was a slight over-reliance on dramatic lighting to create their atmosphere – in my opinion; they would benefit from softening their interior a little and allowing some natural character to permeate into the physical space.

There is no official reception desk as such at Cocktail Kitchen or at least none that we could see. We tried the tactic of wandering around looking pathetic and lost in the hope someone would come to our aid, but after several long minutes and a few times up and down the bar, it was obvious we were going to have to take the initiative. We grabbed the first person we saw, who as it happens, was Jamie Fox’s Doppelganger, who promptly seated us and made sure we got some menus.

So, if Nola is about the atmosphere and Mythos is about the design then CK is about the cocktails and the bar, primarily. I haven’t been to a cocktail bar for a long time – and there is a reason for that.   I’m not a big fan of cocktails if I am honest. Cocktails have been popular since the 18th century, but recently they have been through a dark time and are only just redeeming themselves.   Neon coloured cocktails made with cheap sugary ingredients, served in ridiculous glasses with curly straws, poured by obnoxious, self-important bartenders who called themselves mixologists. I prefer the term cocktologists – much more fitting. Those were the dark times of the cocktail, and happily, you only find those sorts of places on some package holidays in mainland Europe now – and a few bars in Bur Dubai.

CK have bartenders that serve quality drinks. It really is that simple. The bar menu is professional and well considered. Expect quality spirits with lots of infused ingredients such as Chamomile & Darjeeling droplets, fresh pear or honey & smoke.

Even the mixers are craft sodas from the Fentiman’s range with great flavours like Curiosity Cola or Victorian Lemonade. A mature reflection of consumer expectations in 2016 and a far cry from a neon blue long island iced tea from Benidorm circa 1985. (watch now as CK launch a 1980’s Neon Cocktail night, and I look like a pompous, out of touch fool!)

We started with some nibbles, the arancini, deep-fried magic balls of mushroom risotto – crispy, a little chewy and served with a great basil mayo. We also had the fig and blue cheese bruschetta, – the bruschetta bread was also a little chewy, where it should have crunched but the creamy blue cheese and the delicate fig married the little bite sized mouthful perfectly.

We also ordered the olive ascolana – stuffed and fried olives – an Italian street food, traditionally served hot in little bags of wax paper. Typically, you should account for ten olives per person, but if you had to stuff a cavity as small as a hollowed-out olive you would only serve six too. They were good – however when you have less than a belly button’s worth of ragout stuffed into the olive, you’re going to want some punchy flavour that can make its presence know. I wasn’t sure CK’s ragout quite lived up to that task, but they were still delicious little mouth poppers.

The burratta truffle was correct in the sense that it was served without error, but it is also a dish that is served in every single restaurant I have been to in the last eight months, so it has some stiff competition and although very good, I’ve had better elsewhere, unfortunately.

The roasted sea bass with a chunky putanesca sauce was excellent. The flavour and presentation were both spot on. Putanesca sauce is a southern Italian tomato sauce that has a rather rude literal meaning. If you know a little Italian or Spanish and ever frequented the Rattlesnake back in the day, you’ll figure it out. However, it was as it should have been – tangy, earthy and a little bit salty.

The sea bass came in two fillets and wherever possible, you would always want to be able to serve one larger fillet. Not only does it look better on the plate, but it also cooks better. The larger the piece, the easier it is to keep that moist fleshy bite that sea bass is famous for. Having said that, this dish was acceptable, and they managed to get a good golden brown char to the flesh without drying it out. Well done CK!

I’ve been to Cocktail Kitchen several times since they have opened and they keep getting better, which is an encouraging sign. They still have some small operational issues to sort out, such as some unfortunate lighting surges and perhaps slightly more attentive staff, but the very fact that both myself and The Serb have returned numerous times suggests that they are doing something right.

That also means that next time you are there, you might be having dinner next to either Sheikh Hamdan or – ahem – the FoodSheikh.

 

 

minilogo Cocktail Kitchen

estaurant advice and suggestions for the customer and server. Most of them are terrible ideas – I wouldn’t listen to them if I were you.

1. Menu Recommendations:-

Customer Advice:-

As a customer, if you’re going to ask for a server’s recommendation, just remember who he works for. He is going to push you a dish that has the highest profit margin or is about to expire. He doesn’t care about you. Never ask a server “what should I get?” Try instead asking “What’s best?” You might get a better answer.

Server Advice:-

If a customer ever asks you for advice or recommendations on the menu, this is your chance to increase your check and get rid of those slightly smelly fish cakes that the chef defrosted five days ago. Take this opportunity, even if he asks “What’s best?” The customer doesn’t care what you say; he just wants to feel special at your expense.

2. The Dessert Menu

Server Advice:-

Don’t ever ask your guests if they want to see the dessert menu. This is another two “yes’s” you need from them for an additional sale. Take the initiative and give them the menu directly. Make them say no to that apple pie – people hate having to say no.

Customer Advice:-

If a server brings you a dessert menu, expecting an additional sale without asking first, just say no. Then order a decaf cappuccino and hot tea. Servers hate making hot drinks, and you’ll keep their table for an extra half hour. You need to teach them a lesson.

3. Apologizing

Server Advice:-

As a server, refuse to apologise to customers unless it is necessary. If the food is a few minutes late, don’t apologise – it triggers negative emotions within the guest, and too many of those will see your tips decrease.

Customer Advice:-

If your server brings your food late with no apology, he is obviously rude, obnoxious and shouldn’t be tipped.

4. Blogging

Server Advice:-

Look out for the customer that take photos of their food and the menu. Be even more cautious if they ask a lot of innocent-sounding questions. Chances are they will be blogging about it later. Make sure you up your service game and mark their order as a VIP. If they ask how to spell your name, get the manager immediately.

Customer advice:-

A good way to get special service in any restaurant is to start taking birds eye photos of your food as soon as it arrives. Ask lots of obscure questions and ask to see the menu again half way through your main course. Make sure you ask your server to spell out her name and watch the manager come running over.

5. Insider Tricks

Customer Advice:-

If the restaurant serves a dessert that is usually cooked in large batches such as a peach cobbler or an apple pie, chances are the server will have to portion it herself. Servers are a lot less worried about portion control then chefs and are more likely to plate up bigger servings.

Server Advice:-

If your kitchen serves a dessert that is usually cooked in large batches, such as peach cobbler or apple pie, keep a fork in your apron throughout the shift. That way, you can take a forkful of the customers portion without anyone ever knowing. Keep using the same fork throughout the evening.

6. Tipping

Server Advice:-

Research from Cornell has suggested that if you draw a smiley face and write a thank you on the check, your tips will increase. It projects sincerity and customers appreciate the personal touch. Furthermore, sign your name on the check as well – people will always tip more if they know their tips are going to a particular person.

Customer Advice:-

Don’t tip anyone that draws a smiley face on your check – it is a psychological hack. If they do, make sure you get their name.

7. Jokes

Customer Advice:-

Servers work long, anti-social hours and appreciate someone bringing some joviality and humour to their day. A tired server is the perfect recipient for your jokes. They particularly like quips about having to do the dishes if your credit card doesn’t work, or claiming the dinner was terrible while sitting in front of your licked clean plate. If you answer the credit card machine like it’s a phone, they will laugh and definitely remember you next time.

Server Advice:-

If a customer ever picks up the credit card machine to enter his PIN and instead answers it like it’s a phone, laugh but remember who they are. Avoid them like the plague next time.

Goodness, Dubai needs to take note of what is happening in Enigma at the Palazzo Versace hotel.   How’s this for a wacky concept?! They have partnered with a celebrity chef from Sweden – who has had two Michelin stars to his name in his restaurant – Chef Björn Frantzén. Not yet impressed? No, I wouldn’t be either – but what I type next will blow your little cotton socks off.

You see, when I speak about Enigma restaurant partnering with Chef Björn, I don’t only mean for the opening, where he collects his cheque, kisses a few babies, throws some cloudberries into the crowd and gets back on the next Emirates flight to Stockholm.   I mean, he’s there – in the kitchen with his team, cooking like a real chef.  Furthermore,  he’s there until the end of June!  I know, I know – what a disruptive concept – it’ll never catch on.

Here in Dubai, we prefer our celebrity chefs to bugger off as soon as the opening party finishes and leave their restaurant floundering in some underlings hands.

The Journey of a Nordic Chef is a twelve-course menu built loosely around Nordic ingredients, such as dill, lingonberries, fir tree, deer, scallops & MDF – OK, maybe not MDF. Symbolically, the journey starts with a macaron and ends with a macaron.  There is something satisfying about bringing the menu full circle with something that is circle shaped.

Also, it is not lost on me that Michelin Stars are often called macarons, and the two macarons on the menu perhaps represent two stars his restaurant earned back in Sweden.  If it wasn’t intentional, they should just pretend it was and send me a cheque in the mail.

The room is minimalistic by Versace’s standards, but that still means decorative tiled flooring, arches, and a central contemporary chandelier. It is a room that is quite perfect for what Enigma is trying to be – a blank canvas for the food to shine on.  There are no fancy chairs or water features – the room is understated quality, its only job is to provide a space where chef and guest can engage.

As we sat outside on the terrace with our pre-dinner cocktail, images of Sweden were projected onto a nearby wall with photos of farmhouses covered in snow and the northern lights dancing over quaint little villages.  Adding to the atmosphere were songs such as Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chapin and something by Elvis Presley – those well-known Nordic songsters.

Chef Björn approached our table and welcomed us to his evening.  He was polite and engaging and carried himself with a confidence and self-assurance that was encouraging.  What was even more encouraging were the chefs whites and apron he was wearing – there was a significant danger that he might do some cooking – how exciting! He handed us the menu for the evening – a little booklet that documented each dish much like a program at a theatre production.  The whole premise of the night was for Chef Björn and his team to take you on a journey, with the four seasons of Scandinavia represented in some form across the twelve courses.

What is so intriguing and alluring about evenings like this is how trusting and submissive you have to become.  It is really quite liberating, to be so helpless, to be at the mercy of a complete stranger. As a guest, you have relinquished all control to Björn and his team.  There are no menu choices to make, no power to hold on to, not even salt and pepper on the tables – Chef Björn is the conductor of his culinary orchestra, and you’re there to enjoy the music.  It was going to be difficult for the Serb – this was her first degustation experience, and she hates giving up control.

I’m not going to review every single dish, as I don’t think I can remember all of them if I am honest.  However, I want to try portray how enjoyable the evening was as an entire experience, and I hope I can manipulate my words enough to reflect that.

The first three courses arrived all at once and watching The Serb’s reaction was like watching the world through a new born’s eyes.  It was immensely satisfying to see how much interest and curiosity dishes like these could spark in people.  There was an apple & lingonberry macaron, with foie gras & chervil, an oyster with sea buckthorn, juniper cream and sprouted walnut and a tomato water golden tea with lemon verbena and mustard.

After the head chef had explained each dish and suggested eating methods (yes, really) The Serb leaned in and whispered: “Do the portions get any bigger?”

The macaron had that smoky smoothness that only foie gras can provide, and the dried lingonberries and apple provided a sharpness that cut through it with equal parts sweetness and bitterness.  A wonderful little bite and if every journey starts with a step, this was a good first step to take.

The tomato water was a little weak – The bowl arrives with the dry ingredients and then the tomato water is poured over the ingredients including what looked like a small ice cube of tomato juice.  I wasn’t sure what was going on with this dish, but I distinctively remember ending up with a small floating iceberg of something that I’m sure should have melted with the tomato water.  However, icebergs are very Scandinavian, (I think) so I’ll call this another ingenious nod to the Nordic theme and definitely not because the water wasn’t hot enough.

The next dish was the white moss sushi, with deer, frozen bird’s liver, burnt hay, and chanterelles. Easily the most Swedish dish on the entire menu – possibly the whole world, outside of IKEA, which, as everyone knows, is the home of real Swedish food. The white moss was deep fried and topped with deer and did resemble a piece of sushi. Eaten in one bite again, it was an entirely new experience for my mouth – and I don’t say that lightly.  My favourite single bite in a long time.

The Serb continued to show concerns for the portion sizes, and I assured her that we wouldn’t need to raid the fridge when we got home and that the menu was designed to leave us perfectly satiated by the end.  She took a big gulp of water which I took to mean she didn’t believe me.

The next couple of courses were shellfish, in the form of king crab with wild trout roe and scallop with dried roe, fir tree, finger lime, and dashi. The scallops were the winners for me – but I think it was because the chef again regaled me with a wonderful little story behind the dish – and I’m a sucker for a good story.  The scallops are hand dived by young, tanned Swedish girls in a small, untouched village in the north of Sweden.. OK, that’s not the real story, but they are hand dived, and the tang of the finger lime gave the scallops a beautiful poise.

As each dish was consumed and cleared, the waiter was on hand to check our satisfaction levels.  He was professional, charming and very amicable. I asked him lots of questions, to which he enthusiastically promised to check with the chef.  He also enthusiastically never came back with any answers – but that’s ok, I can blame any mistakes in this review on him.

The main courses came next, with the cod being cooked at 38 degrees – the magic number apparently between delight and disgust.  It came with Swedish roe from Kalix, beurre blanc with anchovy juice, dill, and baby onions.

The hot pot was tender lamb, with lively cabbage, roasted cauliflower, truffles and colourful, edible flowers.  In another reference to the Swedish heritage, this dish was plated so it resembled a midsummer’s crown.  Again, if it wasn’t done on purpose, keep quiet and just send me the cheque.

It was at this point that The Serb made the observation that the plates and serving dishes were getting bigger, but the portions were still small.   Not much gets past her.

The final three courses were desserts – however, the first one and the best one was a sticky beetroot with blackberries, 100-year-old vinegar, and liquorice mousse.  This was a kaleidoscope of confusion – I’ve never fallen in and out of love so quickly, so many times.  My mouth numbed due to the liquorice, yet was defibrillated back to life by the 100-year-old vinegar.   In an ideal world, this beautiful madness would never end.

The final dish was a cloudberry and thyme macaron with wild berries.  It was humble and simple – and in that sense, it was a perfect reflection of the Nordic culture.  It was a subtle, understated end to our journey. It was a full stop, a conductor’s closed fist, a signal that this was the final destination – a completed circle.

This was a menu of character, built with ingredients of substance, delivered by the magic of Björn Frantzén.

My sincere congratulations to him and his team for their performance at Enigma.  To the rest of Dubai, if you have the chance to experience this, I urge you to take the deer by the antlers.  I promise you won’t have to raid the fridge when you get home.

 

minilogo Enigma presents Björn Frantzén

Dubai Design District is a place where relationships are truly tested.  I’ll clarify that a little more – trying to get to Dubai Design District is a real test of a relationship.  Through a combination of an out-of-date GPS, Google Maps confusion and the Serbs built-in sense of direction, it will test your limits of commitment, trust, patience, and love.  I urge all couples to make this journey together at least once – you will learn so much about each other.  Then afterwards, go to IKEA.

Dubai Design District is located in.. I don’t know… you’re on your own for this one.  But once you get there, you’ll be pleased to know there is plenty of parking.  Plenty of parking – particularly at the weekend.  In fact, it is so empty that I felt like I was in the movie ‘I am Legend’ where the end of the world is upon us, and zombies lurk in dark corners.

Empty roads surround empty buildings, with empty offices and empty parking bays. Sand blows apoplectically across the small town, and temporary road signs sway ominously in the wind.  I even stopped the car to have an emotional conversation with a window mannequin; such was my solitary madness.  Then the Serb told me to stop being dramatic and get back in the car.  She was right – I could have sworn I heard a pack of wild wolves baying in the distance.

We parked across two parking bays, because, who knows if there will be a tomorrow.  We walked, hand in hand, finding comfort in each other’s company.  There, in the distance, was a café, with lights on and an open sign hanging in the window.  Relief flooding my body, I saw real humans inside, talking, communicating to one another, interacting.  I felt like we hadn’t spoken to another person for an eternity.  At least, not since I had said “Full, special” to the gas attendant – but that had felt like a lifetime ago.  Stumbling into the restaurant, I wanted to hug the hostess and sob with relief into her shoulder – but instead I sat down at a window table and perused the lunch menu.

We quickly placed our orders in case they changed their minds and shuttered the restaurant up.

We ordered the slow cooked duck salad with baby greens, fresh orange, and roasted walnuts.  We also went for the Korean marinated chicken ciabatta with yogurt and honey and the beef Anticucho with smoky chili garlic and oregano.

With the order secured, we sat back and took stock of our surroundings. Craft Café is well designed, as it should be, considering the address.  Bird cages are hanging from the ceiling, with an open kitchen that deserves it’s own Instagram account.  It is hipster yet classic in feel, with enough design features for all the creative cats that prowl these streets during the week to feel comfortable in choosing this place for their Guatemala single origin cold brew.

The restaurant columns are adorned with rather unique custom made lighting, and there are some random African shields (I think – could be Mayan masks) on one wall – and the other is a wall of moss – yep, African shields, and moss walls. You get the idea.  Craft Café is a great fit for the soon-to-be-busy design district.

However, the chairs have been over designed in my opinion, with sharp angular backs that contrast against the softer design of the room. They are large, awkward and cumbersome, and if they were humans, they would be the first to be eaten by zombies.

The food arrived in between large heavy thumps of construction coming from somewhere in the building.  Probably the infected trying to get in, I discreetly informed the Serb.  It was met with a pitiful shake of her head.

I am loath to say it because I generally want to celebrate restaurants, but I think the menu sounded slightly better than the food was – however, I think that is more of a compliment to the menu rather than a criticism of the food.

The duck salad was a good size – the baby greens were crisp and lively, and the shredded duck was fatty and carried its flavour well.  However, there was a yellow foam that covered the plate, and despite forcing myself to try it several times, I couldn’t figure out what flavour it had.  The only way I can describe it is like a vicious, sharp lemongrass foam. However, whatever it was, I don’t think it belonged on that dish.

The Korean chicken sandwich was the Serb’s choice.  It was marinated in Korean paste, and I assume yogurt and honey because those two ingredients weren’t anywhere else in the sandwich.  Overall, the sandwich was good – the bread was crusty, yet soft and the chicken was moist but didn’t make the bread soggy.  It arrived with a side of coleslaw and another foamy sauce that unfortunately was not easy to identify either.  Perhaps my taste buds were temporarily disabled.  I hope it’s not a permanent predicament as my future reviews will be rather useless.

Beef Anticucho are tenderloin skewers originating from South America, that according to the menu are with smoky chili, garlic, and oregano.  So you can imagine my surprise when it arrived covered with a bright yellow sauce.  A yellow so bright, it looked liked runny egg yolk.  The sauce wasn’t bad, but I just wasn’t expecting it.  However, again, I couldn’t tell you what sauce it was – I thought it might be a mustard, but it had no heat, and then maybe some crazy South American mayonnaise, but lacked the consistency.  So, if anyone knows – answers on a postcard please.  Having said that, the meat was great – tender, well seasoned and a good portion.  There were some baby potatoes hiding under the yellow magma that could have done with being cooked a little longer.

The drinks menu is ideally suited for the D3 creative crowd, with hand-harvested teas, cold brew coffees, smoothies and crafted soft drinks, of which some are from the excellent Fentiman’s range.

I must also add that all the food and drinks are served by a very friendly and approachable team, who seem genuine, down to earth and friendly – kind of like a group of your friends inviting you round for lunch – except much nicer than my friends.

I think when life returns to D3, which is probably Sunday through Thursday, this little café, with its on-trend menu, quality ingredients and cracking drinks list, will be a busy little place.

As the Serb and I made our way back to the car, we found a new appreciation for the D3 area – it’s going to be a great business hub for all the new innovative, disruptive SME’s that Dubai is getting good at nurturing into life.  I’m happy that places like the Craft Café are part of that journey.

As we approached the car, a security guy came out of nowhere and told us off for taking more than one parking bay.  I guess there will always be a tomorrow.

minilogo Craft Café

R Trader has a DIFC address but in the Al Fattan Currency House, which has been described by some as the overflow parking for DIFC restaurants.  R Trader is a prohibition themed restaurant serving a ‘modern British menu with international influences’.  I booked a table with nervous anticipation.

R Trader is an elevator ride up to the second floor.  Please be warned to gather full composure before exiting the lift, as you will immediately come face to face with a group of friendly and attractive hostesses.  There is no time for readjustment, physically or emotionally – your night has started – be ready.

From the people that brought you The Scene by Simon Rimmer, R Trader promises “rogue dining” in a prohibition style environment.  They have certainly got the rogue dining part right, but more about that later.  The staff are approachable and attentive, with good knowledge of what they serve. They are dressed in 1920’s-ish attire complete with suspenders, (the American kind, not the British) and Ipads.

The restaurant is a smorgasbord of leather and purple, stained wood and low lights. Cigar smoke hangs sweetly in the air, and the chatter of patrons is reduced to a pleasant murmur. The restaurant is intimate, and the Serb was very impressed with the wallpaper – apparently her grandmother and R Trader share the same tastes. The beverage list has some excellent choices, and I mentioned to The Serb in one of my moments of showing off, that this was the work of a good sommelier. She looked suitably impressed and asked how I knew he was from Somalia.  I’m going to assume she was making a joke – it’s better for the relationship that way.

Flavour and texture combinations are the foundations of any recipe creation. You can be the love child of Gordon Ramsey and Nigella Lawson, best friends with Ferran Adrià and have René Redzepi and Angela Hartnett and as your godparents, and you still wouldn’t be able to produce a decent meal, if you have the wrong recipe.  Menu development is a time consuming, difficult process, whereby hundreds of recipes end up in the menu graveyard.  Chef Dom Robinson knows this very well and delivers a menu that is overall, well constructed and at the very least, innovative.  There is no doubt Dom is a talented chef – his work at the ill-fated Supper Club was excellent, and you can see flashes of his genius on show across his menu.

However, his menu really has nothing to do with the rest of the experience of R Trader.  There are so many elements of cooking, yet they are ultimately part of one experience. An experience that should be continuous and complete, all components working towards a common goal.

The inconsistencies with R Traders identity are somewhat confusing.  The done-to-death ‘sharing plates’ concept contrast against the ultra-traditional bar environment, the heavy, masculine interior design against a minimalistic table setting is like sandpaper and silk.  Even the menu titles, (Raw, Birds, and Beasts, Land, etc.) jar against the finesse of the presentation of the food.  R Trader is a complicated concept, and they have either nailed it or got it horribly wrong.  It’s a fine line between genius and gee whizz and only time will tell.

Let’s talk about the food a little more.  I’ll start with the obvious – it was a master class in plate presentation.  All our choices were beautifully constructed dishes, plates that improved visually, the more you inspected the details.  Whether it was cut, diced, sliced, layered, dripped, quenelled, smeared or seared, every part of the dish was immaculate.

We ordered four dishes; two small and two large. The two small dishes were cauliflower risotto, black truffle with Banyuls and the burrata with green olives, almond, and balsamico.

The two large plates were BBQ Welsh lamb with aloo gobi, onion bhaji and chaat masala and the twelve hour braised beef cheek with amandine potatoes and raclette cheese.

When one talks of the contrast of flavours, there still needs to be a balance and harmony – a marriage of opposites that work in unison.  Similar to the Serb and myself, one might say.

Typically, Buratta is served with some basil and tomato inspired enhancement, and there is a very good reason for this.  The flavours work – they harmonize and compliment each other.  Although olives and cheese often go well together, for me, these olives didn’t work – the acidity overpowered the delicate burrata, and I got the impression they were tinned olives or brine-cured olives.  You don’t get that bitterness from water cured olives.

The risotto, on the other hand, was cracking – risotto is a notoriously easy dish to both overcook or undercook. R Trader got it right, and the Banyuls, (a fortified dessert plonk), added a touch of sweetness to the dish. The nutty, slightly bitter taste of the parmesan cheese provided the balance needed to make this an enjoyable risotto.  Usually, a risotto benefits from a bit of a musky stink, otherwise known as black truffles – but for some reason, the truffle shavings here didn’t do anything to the dish except raise its price.

I was concerned about the Indian influence in the BBQ lamb dish.  Lamb is naturally a heavy, flavourful meat, (especially Welsh lamb), and there was a danger the Indian spices might turn it into a mosh plate of undefined flavour. However, Chef Dom controlled the balance admirably.  Indian spices can be quite delicate when done right, and the lamb was allowed to stay center of attention while the spices danced lightly in the background.

The beef cheek is slow cooked for 12 hours and therefore melts under the slightest pressure from a fork and explodes with an intense flavour in the mouth.  The mashed potato was encased in a raclette cheese skin and finished off with some pickled onion – one of the highlights of the whole meal.

We finished off with some dessert, called single bean chocolate – a spiced chocolate cake with churros.  The churro was magnificent – it reminded me of fresh hot doughnuts on a cold Brighton pier.  The chocolate cake was overdone with the fusion of chilli or whatever spice they used.  Chili and chocolate can go well together, the sweetness of the chocolate with a slight kick of heat at the back of the finish – but this cake was far too spicy from the start – it was a hot slap in the face from the get go and it needed to be toned down a little, in my opinion.

The disconnect between the menu layout, the dishes presented, the service style and the theme make R Trader difficult to place in a box.  They are unique, eccentric and eclectic.  There are flashes of genius mixed with rogue streaks of mediocrity.  However, overall, I think I quite liked it – and I think you might too.

Meal for two – 650 Dhs.

minilogo R Trader

Just a few years ago, as one stepped onto the land of this strange new city, there was a feeling of hope and excitement for the future. This was a young town, a settlement really, that was rich with opportunity and fertile with growth. You could look across the noisy arrivals hall as hundreds of foreigners flocked to this infant city, papers in hand, hoping to forge a new life. Hundreds of thousands of people, all nationalities from far-flung corners of the globe were bringing with them their culture, religion and cuisines. Strange languages and smells were everywhere, but the energy was almost tangible. It had taken a long time to get here, and looking across the skyline, there was construction as far as the eye could see. Investment flooded in from foreign lands, and the world’s tallest building started to reach towards the heavens.

Trade was brisk, and as the city grew in both size and population, it seemed everything was possible for this young urban metropolis. As more and more nationalities arrived, they brought with them the only thing that could remind them of home – their food of wonderful flavours and textures, exotic ingredients and exciting recipes. This was a city built on food and everything that comes with it. I am, of course, speaking of New York at the turn of the last century but you would be forgiven to think I was describing Dubai in 2004. The similarities are fascinating.

Food was and still is an integral part of defining New York, not just as a city, but as a community, as an expression of its history, an acceptance of change and integration, and that is exactly the role food is playing in Dubai today. Historians will look back on the history of Dubai, and a clear theme will be the role that food played in defining whatever Dubai becomes.

Why is food so important to a city like New York or Dubai? Food is the single great unifier across cultures. Our food culture maps out who we are, where we come from, and what happened to us along the way. What we choose to cook and consume is a result of everything that has come before us, a reflection of our experiences, and our ancestors’ experiences — the people we’ve become friends with, what we’ve learned and where we’ve been. We’ll always eat things that have meaning to us, and restaurants take that even further – they define and reshape neighborhoods, they inject vitality into communities – like Ravi did for Satwa or Nobu did for Tribeca.

You are what you eat.

Food is our identity, and this is so important for cities like Dubai that are host to so many visiting nationalities. Restaurants become particularly important when any one of us becomes part of a displaced community, even a voluntary diaspora like for many of us in Dubai. Food becomes the last trace of culture that we discard. Certain aspects of our maternal culture will be diluted almost immediately because of the need to blend in or be part of a larger mainstream audience. However, because food is something we engage with three times per day, it is the most emotive and the hardest to let go.

From the Brit who squeals in delight at Marmite in Park and Shop, to the Indian who brings in his Tiffin boxes to the office every day for lunch or from the Filipino who queues up at Jollibee’s for her fix of chickenjoy, to the Emirati who rushes home to share ‘goozi’ with his family, – every nation on earth gravitates back to their food heritage, back to something that reminds them of who they are, where they have come from and more importantly, where they belong.

Dubai’s Third Place.

A third place is often seen as an essential part of any community. It is the place, after the home and the office, that humans need to function as a civilized society. Walk around Dubai and you will see these third places everywhere you look – from the backstreets of Karama to the landscaped streets of the Arabian Ranches, you will find them. They are the hairdressers and the barber shops; they are the nail spas and the communal parks – and they are, of course, the coffee shops, shisha cafes and restaurants.

Coffee shops are a huge part of Arab culture. They are a natural evolution of the Majlis, that Arabian third place where relationships are forged and friendships maintained. Starbucks is the market leader in terms of number of cafés, with about 75 in Dubai. However, that’s less than 4% of the total number of listed coffee shops in Dubai.

There are an estimated 10,000 restaurants in Dubai, and with a population of 2.5 million people, that is 7.5 million meals that need to be produced every single day, either in a kitchen at home, or in a restaurant – that’s just to cater for the residents and citizens.

Furthermore, I haven’t even factored in the three meals needed daily to feed the 13 million tourists that visit every year – but that’s what the malls and hotels are for.

Imitate or Innovate?

Dubai has one of the highest F&B brand saturations in the world, however, what does that really mean? Dubai has an appetite for international restaurant brands, and despite being heralded as a major food city – a foodie’s paradise – some might argue that it is just a shimmering city of simulation and imitation and others might disagree and claim something more substantial is at play. Is Dubai a landscape of barren brands or is there a hint of innovation and culture bubbling up?

Let’s science this a little. Currently, three of the top chains in terms of number of restaurants are Subway, with approximately 100 restaurants, KFC with about 66 and MacDonald’s about the same, all in Dubai.

Now, I’d like to put that into perspective – for every one MacDonald’s in Dubai, there are thirty-six Indian restaurants, there are nineteen Arabic restaurants, and there are seventeen Chinese restaurants. The international chains might have the fancy billboards and the prime locations, but they are in a sense, overshadowed by these restaurants that provide a grounding point for people yearning for a taste of their culture. The restaurants and brands we are exposed to on the radio and social media and magazines are but a superficial drop in the cultural pool of the restaurant industry.

Original thought hasn’t existed in the F&B industry since a caveman decided to try suck milk out of a buffalo. He was the first original thinker and since then, we have been copying, sometimes improving, but always imitating one another. There have been some candidates for original thinking – some would say Ferran Adria and El Bulli came close, and some say we regressed about four thousand years with the Paleo diet.

Dubai’s need for imitation in the restaurant world is often frustrating. All the press releases, advertising copy and the menus I read, all boast of restaurants being inspired by a New York eatery, a Chicago restaurant, a Parisian tea shop or a Melbourne café. What’s wrong with being a Dubai inspired restaurant? By the way, a New York deli in New York is just called a deli and a Chicago steak house in Chicago is just called a steak house.

Dubai is like a teenager, mimicking and copying until their own identity is formed and established. Unlike buildings that can materialize overnight, or economic cycles that rise and fall every seven years, cultures and identities are formed over decades and centuries.

If I was to travel to New York, or Chicago, or Paris or Melbourne, I wouldn’t find restaurants there that boast of being Dubai inspired restaurants. Perhaps not now, but I guarantee (because I am highly likely to be dead and won’t care) that in 100 years from now, some new urban city will be making plans, not for the worlds tallest building, but for perhaps, the first clean energy city, and hundreds and thousands of foreigners will be flocking in, hoping to find fortune and opportunity – and some restaurant will open with the tag line “A Dubai inspired restaurant.” and why stop there – a Satwa eatery perhaps, a Jumeirah Juice Bar or even a Barsha bakery. That is how cities create their culture and their sense of identity – through food and restaurants.

Stay Hungry, Dubai.

American diners share a culture with gas stations, hot rods and drive-ins.  They boast of stainless steel, a casual atmosphere, late operating hours, art deco design and Americana food.  They’re significant in pop culture too – remember Grease, and Happy Days, Seinfeld and Back to the Future? American diners are the James Dean of the restaurant world.  I’ve always thought how cool it would be to be called James Dean.  It’s simple and timeless but edgy and hard at the same time.

It’s amazing what a name can do.  I’ll give you some examples.  When I saw The Da Vinci Code, by Dan Brown, I knew it was going to be an entertaining read – Or take Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, by Hunter Thompson as another example.  Cool titles and cool author names.

Incidentally, The Da Vinci Code sold 80 million copies, worldwide – if it had been called ‘Museum Symbols’ by Nigel Button, I highly doubt it would have shifted so many copies.  If a Nigel Button reads this, please get in touch directly.  I have a book idea for you.

So when I knew that Michael Mina was opening a new restaurant called The Firebird Diner, I was already sold.  The Firebird Diner by Michael Mina – how utterly cool in a grown up way.

It’s at the new Four Seasons hotel at DIFC.  Drive past the Zuma valet parking and it is there on your right.

Michael Mina runs a bunch of restaurants in the US, a few are replicated in several cities, but Mr. Mina prefers to create individual restaurants of substance and personality.

Firebird Diner is inspired by the 1940’s American diners.  However, gather all your preconceptions about them – take the juke box and the booths, and the stainless steel and the counter stools, and jazz them to the moon and back.  Polish them, smooth them out, add some spit and shine and you’ll start to get an idea of what Firebird Diner is all about.

The floor is a glossy canvas of black and white marble, and the tables are crafted from highly polished solid teak wood.  The seating is a collection of custom made booths and chairs upholstered in quality red and cream leather, and the bespoke chandeliers are a stroke of art deco genius. Sia would be proud.  Music plays from a working juke box; the servers tap their feet to the tunes of Elvis, Lynn Anderson and Billy Lamont, and the chefs cheerfully greet you from the kitchen as you walk in with a New Jersey “How ya doin’?”

The menus cover breakfast, lunch and dinner.  However, we were given the brunch menu – a mix of breakfast and lunch items ranging from Elvis toast – (French toast with cinnamon custard and a spiced peanut caramelized banana) to a sweet pepper frittata.

The brunch menu also offers steak & eggs, power salads, ice cold shellfish and wood fired burgers.  But the steaks and eggs weren’t ordinary steak and eggs – they were Firebird steak and eggs.  Again, note the power of a cool name.  Stick Firebird on the front of a food item and it’s immediately sexier and cooler and is worth at least 30% more on the menu.

I was a little disappointed – not with the brunch menu itself, but with the obligation that every restaurant feels it has to cater for the brunch crowd. The Friday brunch is due for a massive overhaul.  Someone is going to come up with an alternative that will disrupt everything – because let’s be honest; there hasn’t been an original brunch since Fairmont’s Moet brunch back in the noughties.

We had a look at the lunch menu, which is not available during brunch, unfortunately.  However, there are some great sounding dishes, such as a Trio of Picnic Eggs, Popcorn Shrimp, Lobster Pot Pie and the amazing sounding Chicken Fried Wagyu Steak.  I don’t think I can even imagine what that would be like. A chicken fried wagyu steak…. Nope.. No idea.

However, what we really ordered was much more grounded – both in reality and in texture.  On a side note, some people have been commenting that I don’t order enough food for each review.  I order what I think I will enjoy, and try to sneak a few extra items in wherever possible to give a more complete view.  The Serb is her own force of nature and any issues there should be taken up directly with her.

With that said, we had an enjoyable spiced lamb burger with squirts of cucumber yogurt and a thick scoop of tangy tomato relish.  The lamb wasn’t as spiced as I expected, but the French fries were cracking – cooked in duck fat and well seasoned, they were crispy and well-seasoned.

The Serb hadn’t had a burger since the night before, so she ordered the All American burger, with smoked Gouda and a sweet onion marmalade.  Oh, and Chef Michael’s secret sauce. Yeah – I’m not sure if I’m OK with that, either. Both burgers came in a semi-sweet brioche bun and ketchup on the side.

Judging by The Serbs reaction, I think she had eaten better burgers elsewhere. She claimed it was too soft. Confused, I took a bite, (any excuse) and I immediately knew what she meant.  The bread was soft which is great. However, the onion marmalade was also soft, as was the patty and the cheese and therein lies the problem.  The great thing about both the Serb and I having a full set of healthy teeth means we can handle a little crunch, bite and texture in our food.

We also had the mac and cheese, which was a perfect example of how simple comfort food can punch above its weight class.  The macaroni pasta had a little bite to it, (my teeth were particularly happy about that) and the cheese had a smoky depth and flavour that brought the dish together.

The Firebird Diner has just opened, and for once I am ahead of the curve in reviews.  For once.  The Serb did ask if we should wait a few months to give them a chance to settle in, but my thinking is that if they are comfortable charging me full whack on the bill, them I’m comfortable going full whack with a review.  And full whack they do go on the prices – 120 dhs for the burger, 40 Dhs for a bottle of water and 400 dhs for the whole meal. That’s a 32 US dollar burger.

I understand that a couple of mediocre burgers can’t reflect the success of the rest of the menu, but with Michel Mina behind the recipes, the chances are pretty high that the rest of the menu is going to have some winning dishes.

The Firebird is a seriously classed up American diner, and they’re not messing around.   But don’t take my word for it – visit them and see for yourself, but just remember, this is a particularly pricey option for those Happy Days feel goods.

minilogo Firebird Diner by Michael Mina

In 2012, the Raju Omlet Centre in the western Indian city of Vadodara won a “Best Roadside food stall” award.  Rajesh “Raju” Rana, the owner, said of the award,

“I have probably got more than what was written in my fate. This is an award for those who eat at my place.”

From a handcart in 1982 to a tiny restaurant in 1995 to an international franchise deal with two branches in Dubai in 2016, Raju Omlet is a wonderfully inspiring story.  No crowdfunding, no venture capital investment, no IPO – just good recipes, hard work and fresh eggs.  Lots of fresh eggs.

Raju Omlet is an Indian restaurant that specializes in eggs – all kinds of eggs – omelets, Bhurji (scrambled), half fried eggs, crushed eggs, power boiled, grated, you name it, if it can be done to an egg, Raju Omlet has done it.

Add to those eggs, the flavours and spices of the Indian cuisine and over 30 years of experience, you have a surprisingly dynamic menu that covers over forty menu items.

The latest branch is in Al Quoz and can only be described as a grungy, artsy Mumbai street café.  Unpolished concrete floors, simple, elegant furniture with well-considered artwork and posters on the wall.  The play on eggs is very apparent and although cute, thoughtful and humorous; there is a little danger of overplaying the whole egg theme.  The light fittings are industrial and chic, and it is obvious there is a serious marketing mind behind this brand.  It’s located close to Noor Islamic Bank metro station – a little difficult to find, but worth the google.

The Serb and I entered with the excitement of two lonely planet explorers, pushing open the doors to some mysterious, unknown world. A world unknown only to us, apparently.  Several groups of all nationalities filled up the small restaurant, and they all sat with the confidence of obviously being there several times before.

The servers were all Indian, very charming, modest and attentive and dressed in yellow and beige – another unnecessary nod to the egg connection, I feel.

We ordered some cutting chai that arrived hot, sweet and thick.  Cutting chai comes from the very simple habit of asking for a half portion of the full chai.  The chai vendor literally cuts the chai portion in half.

As an unnecessary preventative measure, The Serb ordered an Adrak Chai, a special chai with a subtle kick of ginger – good for the digestion apparently.

My cheese Masala omlet arrived with some fresh, flakey buttery paratha on a side plate. This little, rolled pancake of eggs with chillis, coriander, and spices, was unassuming and modest. There was no fancy garnish or fanfare. No unnecessary accompaniments.  I forked some into my mouth and immediately closed my eyes for a brief moment. It is an exceptional omelet – it makes you feel that little bit more alive.  The spices coat your mouth and your tongue twitches in exhilaration.  Your taste buds have nowhere to hide – not that they want to – they tingle with anticipation of the next bite.  I was invigorated and inspired.  It was bold yet subtle; the spices linger softly at the front of your tongue, and the cheddar cheese brings a balance and harmony to the dish.

The Serb, famous for her adventurous nature when it comes to food, ordered the plain cheese omlet with the bun.  It arrived, fresh, yellow and lively.  The cheddar cheese was plentiful and gooey and had the consistency of thick lava.  The Serb delicately nibbled at a small forkful and gave a tiny nod of appreciation which is the equivalent of a champagne celebration for ordinary folk.  She was impressed – I could tell.

When Raju cracked open that first egg back in 1982, few could have seen where this journey would have taken him.  I hope success and accolades continue to be written in his fate.

Because at 45 dhs for two, this unassuming, quirky Indian egg restaurant is a little gem of a place that has left a wonderful impression on me.

Raju Omlet is one of only a handful of restaurants that provides a space and cuisine that is so egalitarian and equal.  Or Eggalitarian.  And on that pun, I think I’ve finished.  There is nowhere else to go.  Except back to Raju Omlet, perhaps.

minilogo Raju Omlet

Doesn’t time fly – life whisks past so fast that if you’re not careful, you’ll be old and wondering what the hell happened – which is where I find myself today.  I remember reading about the Clinton St Bakery opening and making a mental note to visit.  That was over two years ago, back in January 2014 and this is the first time I have been.  Where have the last two years gone?! I feel like I’m late to the party with this review, and all the other restaurant reviewers will be mocking me for not being more on the ball. There is fashionably late, and then there is FoodSheikh late, I guess. In fact, you don’t really need to read on – this is like me writing a review for Star Wars, the original one.  Spoiler alert, Darth Vader is Luke’s father.  Nothing new will be said here today.

The Clinton Street Baking Company & Restaurant made its name in the Lower East Side in NYC largely due to its stellar breakfast and brunch line-up. Founded by a husband and wife team back in 2001, they eventually expanded to lunch and dinner, and Chef Kleinberg, showing significant business savvy made sure his tried and trusted breakfast was available all day.  The fanboys and girls were ecstatic and their enthusiasm spread across an entire city – The Clinton St. Bakery legend was born.

Fast forward 15 years and Clinton St. has expanded its empire across the globe, with outposts in Singapore, Tokyo and of course, Dubai.  Clinton St. Bakery lives in Burj Views, the seemingly permanent construction site wasteland behind Downtown proper.  An odd and remote location for such a cult classic, but perhaps that is their strategy.

“Come find us,“ they seem to say. “We’re that good.”

Their location doesn’t seem to be affecting them, however, and with only around fifty-five seats, the cozy little restaurant fills up fast – especially late mornings through lunch.

With my newly found concern for my procrastination skills playing heavily on my mind, I was eager to get seated and place my order.  Which perhaps is why it felt like another two years before someone came to take our order, although it was probably only 5 minutes in reality.  I’m all for a leisurely Friday breakfast, but I have to work on Sunday.

You probably all already know this, but Clinton St. Bakery is all about the breakfast – half of the menu is dedicated to breakfast items, serving uninhibited, unfussy comfort food.  These breakfast items are the real deal – comfort food, moreish and rather quite brilliant in their simplicity.

We ordered the organic oats with roasted apple and almonds, the buttermilk biscuit sandwich, the Venezuelan chocolate pancakes and a couple of coffees.  Yes, all that food was just for myself and the Serb.  It sounds like a lot of food – and yes, it is.

As all of you know, the restaurant design is a modern diner – high-quality booths and banquette seating with white washed brick walls and a semi-open kitchen. Our server was splendid and had the confidence of knowing that the food she was about to serve was probably going to be the best thing we would eat that day.  The coffee was hot and strong and was re-filled frequently.  The other diners were a collection of nationalities, all young, hip and relaxed. Life is good at Clinton St.

My buttermilk biscuit was crumbly, buttery and had a salty sweetness to it. One-half was smothered in scrambled eggs and melted cheese – the other half was smeared with a tangy homemade tomato jam.  There was a spatula scoop of hash browns, crispy and hot off the griddle.  The stringy, overly brown beef bacon was left to one side, but the rest suffered from no procrastination from my side this time.  It was a deliciously satisfying meal.

For the Serb, the oats were a healthier decoy for the real prize, the chocolate cherry pancakes.  The oatmeal could have been warmer, but it was thick and sweet, and the dried apples and roasted almonds added a good texture to the bowl.

Clinton St. pancakes were voted best pancakes in New York by New Yorker Magazine – twice.  Apparently, they dominate the pancake scene in NY.  I don’t know if there is a pancake scene here in Dubai, but if there is, they would probably dominate here too.

A three-stack of American style pancakes with whipped cream, cherry halves and Venezuelan chocolate held pride of place in the middle of our table.  They were fluffy, chewy and crispy – an astonishing contradiction of characteristics.

Clinton St Bakery knows what their strengths are and quite rightly, that is where their focus lies.  A solid execution of unpretentious food in a charming environment with confident service.  But who am I kidding, you all knew this two years ago.

minilogo Clinton St. Baking Company

As I confidently pulled into the Grand Hyatt hotel, we quickly realized that we had arrived at the wrong Hyatt.  Luckily for me, I can depart just as confidently as arriving.

La Tablita is in the heart of Healthcare City, and as I drove past the obesity clinic on the corner, I told the Serb how hungry I was and that I couldn’t wait to skip the chips and put my face straight into some guacamole.

La Tablita is in the Hyatt Regency Dubai Creek Heights hotel, and to be honest, I think that’s all there is in that hotel.  Getting there is difficult, there are no sign posts except for the Grand Hyatt, but we’ve already established that’s the wrong hotel.  Once you arrive, however, someone has been brilliant with floor signage and a little Mexican breadcrumb trail leads you directly to the restaurant. Where was this guy when we were circling the building for ten minutes, I wonder?

The hostess led us to our table, and by the time we were seated at our booth, she had charmed both of us into submission.  She took us through the rather complicated menu and taught us how to place our order.  The Serb made notes, and I focused on finding the head sized bowl of Guacamole on the menu.

The idea of the menu is very on trend, even if the execution is not particularly user-friendly.  They have a menu card called the Taco Shop & Ceviche Bar, where you fill in your choices for tacos or ceviches yourself, and then they have another menu where you verbally place your main order with the waiter.  Here’s a little life hack for those planning a visit.  You could probably give your entire order to the waiter and bypass filling in the card yourself. FoodSheikh is always looking for ways to make life easier!

Unfortunately, the restaurant space and design is nothing to write home about, and so I won’t.

What I will go on about are the service team and their attitude.  The team are energetic, charismatic, and you leave feeling like you’ve made some new friends.  They know their menu inside and out and are splendid at making favourite personal suggestions which, purely coincidently I’m sure, are the more pricier options. I think it‘s genuine enough, though, as the team kept coming back to check if we enjoyed their suggestion as if they had a competition going on.

The tacos are all individual, all priced at 12 DHS and with fourteen to choose from, it’s a good starting point.  The Serb was on taco duty that night – she ordered four kinds, two chicken, one beef and one seafood.  Unsurprisingly no vegetarian tacos made it onto the list.  They all had very authentic sounding Mexican names, such as the Dorado, and the Texano and the Al Pastor, which in reality probably translates to gringo gobbledygook in Spanish.  The crispy fish taco was excellent, especially with the Valentina hot sauce liberally applied.  The chicken, however, was overcooked and quite dry. The sizes were great – the same size equivalent as a slider in the burger world. They are taco sliders.

The camarones al ajillo, (shrimp, garlic & mushrooms) comes out sizzling and it’s a punchy, confident dish.  The garlic is strong – like Yoda and The Force strong – and possibly overpowers the more delicate flavours of the shrimp.  However, wrapped in the soft flour tortillas, it is a great combination with wonderful textures and one of the highlights of the meal.

The queso con chorizo is melted mozzarella cheese in a chorizo meat sauce – wrap all that up in a soft corn tortilla, and it makes for a heavy, artery thickening little meal.  However, in fairness, Mexican cuisine is not known for its delicacy and lightness.

You’ll be pleased to know that I got my guacamole as well – La Tablita’s guac is chunky, smooth and plentiful.  I opted for the crispy duck topping because I’m greedy, but in hindsight, it didn’t make the dish any better.

You have a special treat this review – I don’t usually order or comment on dessert, but because I had made some new Mexican friends and they insisted that we try one of their desserts, I felt I couldn’t refuse.

The tres-leche vanilla cake with jalapeño ice cream is a contender for an award.  The sponge is light, airy and moist, and once in your mouth, it explodes with smooth, creamy and sweet milk made from condensed, evaporated and heavy cream.  Mexico is a country that celebrates a surprisingly joyous holiday called Dia de Muertos – Day of the Dead – where they take the favourite food of the deceased to their graves as an offering.  Apparently the tres-leche cake is popular offering on this day.  I just feel that perhaps if the deceased hadn’t loved this cake so much, they might have lived a little longer.  It is deceptively light and airy, but must whack a mean calorific punch.

In Mexico, the skill of cooking can be translated to “sazon” which literally means seasoning and meals are seen as an important way to preserve relationships.  Due to the sazon of the chefs and the passion of the service team, I definitely intend to maintain my relationship with La Tablita – even if I can’t remember what hotel it is in.

 

minilogo La Tablita Mexican Restaurant