WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

NAME: Rüya Restaurant

WE ARE: An upscale contemporary Turkish restaurant, Rüya will serve around 50 authentic Anatolian dishes using Turkish ingredients and recipes

DATE OPENED: 10/01/2016

WHO’S BEHIND IT: D.Ream – the restaurant group behind Coya, Nusr-Et and Zuma and more importantly, Colin Clague, who was responsible for opening Dubai restaurants Qbara and Jean-George’s JG Dining Room and JG Kitchen. Finally, Umut Özkanca, a second generation restaurateur, and entrepreneur is the driving force behind Rüya.

LOCATION: Dubai Marina

STREET ADDRESS: Grosvenor House Hotel, Dubai Marina

WEBSITE: https://www.facebook.com/ruyadubai/

PHONE: +97143999123.

E-MAIL: reservations@ruyadubai.com

TWITTER:

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/ruyadubai/

 

Blurb:

Meaning dream in Turkish, the venue fuses a vibrant restaurant, lounge and bar experience together, exploring the extremely rich history and diversity of Anatolian food, a cuisine that draws inspiration from a number of rich culinary traditions. Central to the story is the food offering, led by Executive Chef Colin Clague, one of the region’s most respected and celebrated culinary talents with an exceptional reputation having worked with the prestigious Burj Al Arab, award-winning Zuma in London and Dubai, The Caprice Group and Qbara. It will capture the cosmopolitan atmosphere of Istanbul, and will represent the history of Turkey through the food and ambience.
The founders aim to make Rüya the first internationally recognised Anatolian restaurant in the world, with the concept to be established first in Dubai before being rolled out globally.

I found myself back in JLT the other night, and I continue to be encouraged by the quality of small independent restaurants that keep popping up in the seemingly subterranean corridors of the JLT buildings.

50 mismatched chairs, ten tables, and a compact little kitchen make up Café Isan, JLT’s latest Thai restaurant.

Located in Cluster M on the lower level, there has been little consideration for how the place looks – I strongly believe that Café Isan was furnished by the entire ‘as is’ section of IKEA.  Upturned wooden pallets masqueraded as urban space dividers and the heavy, fabric Chesterfield couches are too big for the tables.  Or is it the other way round – such is my confusion, I can’t figure it out.  There are two breeze block walls that I think have been put there on purpose. Sitting above them is a hanging garden of plastic ferns and flowers that loom above you like some mystical garden from Stranger Things.

They saved their fancy lights for the Karaoke “room” which can be reserved for private parties.  I think a karaoke party in Café Isan might just be the most wonderfully surreal experience of my life!

The single lone waitress wears a red Aloha shirt and a hair net and throws a big smile at you as you walk in.

The kitchen is a small, open plan space where two chefs, including the owner, Chef New, cook and prepare your food and watch over you during your meal.

We quickly realized that we were expected to sit ourselves, and chose a table towards the back. The tables settings are a wonderfully eclectic collection of tissue boxes, children’s plastic cups from IKEA, electric table fans and empty, never used condiment jars. The Aloha server arrived, dropped some menus in front of us, and with that same big smile, told us to find her when we were ready.

Yes, it’s that kind of place.

Now, to explain what Isan food is. This is where us food critics do a three-minute Google search and then pretend we are the authority on little-known cuisines, trying to re-word Wiki to make it sound like we are natives of the said region, and local chefs come to us for advice and guidance.

So here goes.

The Isan region can be found in the North East of the country and is the lush rural heartland of Thailand. There is less influence from the French and Vietnamese in this region’s cooking, and subsequently, the food is somewhat lighter in its composition compared to down south. Isan cooking uses a lot of sticky rice and less coconut milk, meaning more spice, more punch, and more heat.

What I can tell from the menu is that it looks remarkably like a regular Thai menu. As with most Thai menus, there are a lot of Yums and Toms and Soms to choose from, some familiar and some more exotic. I noticed there were a few dishes with coconut milk, so that’s taboo if you are an Isan-arian.

We got our heads down and decided on what to order.  The Poh Piaa Pak and the Lab Gai Tod were ordered to start. That’s the crispy spring rolls and fried chicken patties to you and me.

We then followed up with Panang Gai, Som Tum Thai the Pad Mee Isan Gai. I’ll explain what they are once they arrive.

While we were waiting for the food to arrive, The Serb pulled out a ten-year financial plan that she had put together for us and wanted to review with me.  Apparently, in 14 months’ time, my salary has to increase by 62%.  I was worried that the Lab Gai Tod cakes might be too spicy for me, and she’s worried about our long-term investment vehicles. I might move to Isan.

The spring rolls and chicken cakes arrived. Despite the menu saying otherwise, they were both served with the same dipping sauce. The spring rolls were absolutely fine – good flavour and well-cooked, but unremarkable.  Exactly like every other spring roll I’ve had in the last ten years.  As I write this, I don’t know why I always order them, they are the same everywhere you go.

The Lab Gai Tod cakes did much better. Although their construction was unsophisticated and visually they would have embarrassed my Instagram account if it wasn’t embarrassing enough already.  However, they tasted great.  I’m a big fan of lemongrass, lime, and coriander, and these cakes had all those flavours mixed in with roughly minced chicken and hints of mint, onion and chili.  My only gripe is that I think they held back on the spice.  Chef New is known to make executive decisions on how much spice she thinks you can handle.  I think she bases it on how you walk in and what table you choose.  I know I probably look like I cry if a chili looks at me menacingly, but I do like a certain amount of heat.

Som Tum Thai is a papaya salad that originated from the Isan region of Thailand. It is served with tomatoes, a few green beans and a handful of crushed peanuts.  The dressing is a tangy combination of fish sauce, Kaffir lime juice, garlic and palm sugar.  It is sweet and sharp and classic Thai.  Café Isan’s version is spot on – the shredded papaya was fresh and clean, and the peanuts brought an umami-esque flavour to the dish.

I ordered the Panang Gai, which is a creamy chicken curry, where the meat is slow cooked in a base of red chili paste and coconut milk.  It is a delicate and subtle curry served with Isan’s famous sticky rice. However, it lacked heat, both spice-wise and temperature wise.  I got very little indication of the chili paste, despite the overall dish being a wonderful representation of how diverse Thai cooking can be.

The Serb is very visual and chose her meal based on what photo she recognized. Que the Pad Mee Isan Gai, an Isan version of the Pad Thai – Thailand’s most famous food export. Café Isan’s version arrives in an omelet case and is served with crunchy vegetables. It was a good Pad Thai, the saltiness of the fish sauce blending well with the sweetness of the limes and sugar.

For the more adventurous of you out there, the menu has some dishes that sound great – the Laab Gai for example, a famous Isan salad with minced chicken, mint, coriander and lime leaves tossed in a chili lemon dressing. Or the Tom Yum Goong, a clear spicy prawn soup with galangal, lemon grass and tomatoes.

Café Isan is an honest, unpretentious little diner that serves authentic, great tasting Thai food. It is a place to go for a quick mid week meal and Chef New certainly knows how to serve up some tasty food. I just wish she would let the heat fly a little more and she shouldn’t be scared to unleash the power of Isan cooking on us foreigners. The overall experience is genuine, low key and slightly bonkers. The bill arrived in a random mini shopping trolley and is of course hand written on carbon paper.  Anywhere else, that would have been an ironic gesture, here in Café Isan, I don’t know what it means.

Go there with the right expectations, a sense of adventure and a good appetite. You won’t go far wrong.

minilogo Café Isan

I did a quick survey last week on Facebook to get some suggestions from my very favourite readers.  Many of the comments were to review more affordable, less high-end places, which I totally agree with.

So I booked a dinner at Café Belge at the Ritz Carlton Hotel in DIFC.  I appreciate this is in no way following the calls for austerity that my dear readers asked for, but The Serb and I had been trying to get to this place for about three months, and it was just one of those things I had to get done.  You know the Serb by now.

The room is grand, with high ceilings, marble floors, and crown molding.  As the hostess walked us to our table, she made a stop off at a quaint apple cart that happened to be in the area, where a young Flemish farmer was selling his homemade apple cider to passersby.

OK, that’s not strictly true – it was a cider promotion of some sort, and had I known the cider was complimentary, I would have made sure the Serb put some extra in her handbag.

Our table was a banquette table close to the bar, and I felt there were better tables available – but in typical fashion, I said nothing and chose to grumble about it here.

A lady in a dangerously red, tight-fitting dress approached the table, wearing a single chain-mail glove on her left hand and a holster around her tiny hips. I thought, “Oh dear Lord – please, not again.” Luckily, she wasn’t there for that.

She was merely a young Flemish oyster catcher, bringing her wares to market hoping to shuck oysters for passersby.

You know you’re no longer in Rock Bottom when the shooter girl is shucking oysters for well-heeled finance guys at the bar.  My last memory of a shooter girl was a cowgirl named Molly giving me test tubes shots from a leather belt that was wrapped tightly round her chest.

I took a better look around the room from our slightly disappointing table. Off in the distance, I could see a great looking terrace, with high ceiling fans, greenery, dark woods and young, good looking people having fun. Maybe next time…

The restaurant has a nice feel to it – the bar is elegant and well stocked with beers and wines, and the dining room is well divided, light and spacious. It was a cross between a train station terminal and a French provincial estate.

Café Belge serves a Flemish menu, which is heavily influenced by German, French and Dutch cooking. Café Belge has a strong seafood emphasis with salmon, cod, oysters, Dover sole and more.  They also have traditional Moules and rabbit à la tournaisienne, side by side with more international items such as burgers, risotto, and steaks.

The Serb got frustrated with the menu, claiming she couldn’t pronounce anything off the menu. I asked her what was the challenging with “Grilled Salmon.” It was met with a vicious stare while she butchered the pronunciation of chicken Vol-au-Vent Cromesquis.

“Chicken Voldemort Chromes I Quit” was her impressive attempt. I think she was just making a point, because when she ordered it, she said it like a native Brusselonian.

For starters, we ordered the tuna tartare and the chicken Voldemort. For mains, we went with the fillet of cod and the beef carbonnade – a beef and beer stew.

The bread for the table was warm and crusty, and the butter was salty and room temperature. You can tell a lot about a restaurant by the temperature of their butter, by the way.

The starters arrived and immediately you could see the quality of the ingredients. The dishes looked fresh, lively and oozed superiority.  Finally, all those years of food Instagram are rubbing off on European chefs!

A Cromesquis, for those interested, is a croquette of sorts. Our Cromesquis looked nothing like a croquette of any sort, no matter how much interpretation you were allowing the chef. It looked remarkably like a chicken salad.  There was a simple explanation for this confusion – it turns out it was a chicken salad.  Perhaps the Serb’s pronunciation wasn’t as good as we thought. I said nothing, of course.

Regardless, the starters were simple yet excellent. When a recipe is basic and uncomplicated, a good chef knows that the ingredients need to do the talking. The chicken salad was light and fresh – the dressing was balanced, and the sun-dried baby tomatoes provided the right flavour intensity.

The tuna tartare was good – chilled tuna with excellent presentation.  They also slipped in a magic disc of watermelon that bought a wonderful freshness to the dish.

Like the menu, the service was also influenced by German, French, and the Dutch. Our waiter was efficient, a little standoffish and quite tall. There was limited interaction, and I would expect a little more engagement in a “Café” setting.

If our starters were light and gentle, then our mains were the opposites.

Influenced by provincial farm cooking – both dishes were cooked in sauces, with lots of seasonal vegetables and herbs to bring out the right flavours. The filet of cod was simmered in a wonderfully light but flavorful fish sauce, with tomatoes, peppers, fennel and more.  It was served in a shallow bowl and was hearty and filling.

The beef carbonnade is a Flemish stew – beef slow-cooked in an umami-intense beef and onion stew. Beer, thyme, and bay leaves bring a sweetness to the overall balance. This dish was good – strong on the flavours and mouthfeel, but if I am honest, the beef was a little too lean, dry and heavy going, to score full marks. It came with some bone marrow that provided the fat that was missing in the beef, and some excellent thick cut fries.

The meal came to 495 dhs for two, with free cider, which isn’t too bad, but it’s still premium. However, for once, I felt that my money went on ingredients, not some greedy landlords pocket.

I know it’s a Ritz Carlton, but I would have enjoyed a little more genuine hospitality, rather than the stereotypical polished five-star service. Not everything needs to be polished so much.

A consistent, high-class venue with reliable food and service.   Good for safe dates, and shucking oysters with finance guys at the bar.

minilogo Café Belge

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW
NAME: ZOCO

WE ARE: A homegrown soulful Mexican come Latin American eatery, cocktail bar and lounge.

DATE OPENED: 09/15/2016

WHO’S BEHIND IT: Head Chef Jimmy Rojas Lopez and Habtoor Hospitality.

LOCATION: The Atrium at Al Habtoor City

STREET ADDRESS: Al Habtoor City, Sheikh Zayed Road

WEBSITE: www.zocodubai.com

PHONE: 04 437 0044

E-MAIL: info@zocodubai.com

TWITTER:

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/zoco_dubai/

Blurb:
ZOCO is a homegrown, soulful Mexican come Latin American eatery, cocktail bar and lounge located on the 1st level of The Atrium at Al Habtoor City, a collection of dining and entertainment experiences at the heart of the new mega-complex. ZOCO serves up reimagined traditional dishes alongside an eclectic selection of cocktails and distillations in an authentic and vibrant Latin American setting. Open nightly from 5:00pm until the early hours, resident and occasional special guest DJs will be behind the decks spinning laidback mixes infused with a Latin flair making ZOCO the perfect destination for dinner and late night drinks. The award-winning team behind ZOCO is led by Head Chef Jimmy Rojas Lopez, who has trained alongside two great culinary minds and Michelin star chefs, Alain Ducasse and Oscar Calleja in Paris and Spain.

Miss Lily has flown all the way from New York City to welcome Dubai into her warm embrace.  The Sheraton hotel on SZR is home to the most recent Caribbean restaurant and bar and possibly the most festive, multicultural, multigenerational crowd of punters in this diverse city at the moment.

The Sheraton, with their hushed civility of luxury, is an odd home for the festive, egalitarian and casual inclusively of Miss Lily’s.  The two worlds couldn’t have been further apart if they had tried.

Like a scene from Netflix’s The Get Down, Miss Lily’s is a small, two-roomed space that is resplendent with colours, music, low ceilings, disco balls, vinyl records and larger than life characters.  It is a space that has a distinctively late night, club feel, which is unsurprising as this is a Serge Becker joint, who is much more famous for being a club owner and a scene maker than a restaurant guy.  However, they have found the balance – Miss Lily’s is an intimate, lively restaurant that blends the cultural significance of the Caribbean into every nook and cranny.

However, such is Miss Lily’s popularity at the moment, with that comes a small, busy room where the smoke hangs in the air, and the air conditioning struggles to keep the heat of the jerk spices away.  Miss Lily’s is not for the faint-hearted – and it’s not meant to be.

Upon arrival, one of our dining guests was already propped up at the bar, learning about how many rums they had on their menu and more accurately, how many they didn’t have. Apparently many are still on the ocean, en-route.  He seemed sad to leave his bar stool and the chatty bartender.

We were taken to our seats by a friendly young lady, who led us through the small rum bar and into the back room where we were met with an almost full dining room of closely spaced tables and booths.  Some of the booths were so close together that the only way you knew where your table ended was because you had no idea who the person sitting next to you was.

Our server was just the like atmosphere – lively, energetic and welcoming. He was knowledgeable about the menu, a good host and reminded me of a street hustler – in a good way.  He also claimed he was Jamaican, but had a suspicious Jo’burg intonation to his voice.  Perhaps, I was mistaken over the rather loud, old school Ska and reggae that was thumping out of the speakers.

A further questionable claim of his was that the Ackee and Hommus starter was a traditional Jamaican delicacy.  I’m not an expert, but I don’t think the chickpea is an indigenous legume to the islands.

The complete stranger sitting next to me happened to be Jamaican, and he leaned across and also confirmed my suspicions about the dish.  Yes, the tables are that close together – don’t talk about anything confidential – Miss Lily hears everything.

We ordered the ackee humus, jerk chicken roti, and jerk corn to start and waited for our last guest to arrive.  After a running phone update on her whereabouts, she finally arrived, took her seat and immediately took possession of the closest alcoholic drink to her.  Apparently, valet parking at the Sheraton has room for improvement.

The appetizers were good. However, the much-discussed ackee humus perhaps fell victim to exaggerated expectations from myself and my new buddy on the table next to me.  The ackee fruit didn’t bring anything extra to the dish.

The jerk chicken roti was some sort of shawarma rehash. Not sure if they were a success for me.  They were a little mediocre – nothing in the construction of the dish stood out.

The real winner was the grilled corn.  A clever spin on the Mexican street corn, Miss Lily’s version is jerk mayo slathered, chargrilled and then coated in toasted coconut chards.  It is sweet yet spicy with the soft corn kernels contrasting against the crispy coconut.  It’s not the only place in the city that serves it, (Café Havana for example) but certainly the best – a stand out favourite.

As young, professional and hip urbanites, we felt we should order a selection of mains to share so we could all experience as much food as possible.  Our dining partners apparently thought the table of five next to us was part of our group and ordered with them in mind as well.  Our order consisted of Jerk chicken, sweet plantains, Jerk fries, pimento short ribs and a goat curry.

The short ribs were fall-off-the-bone succulent and full of umami and the pimento peppers provided a sweet, aromatic glaze to the meat.  There was enough for at least four people – if that was the short rib, I’d hate to think what the long rib would be.  The plantains were sweet and hot and ordered by the Serb because she likes bananas at home.

The goat curry was poor – a chunky, peasant style mix of potato, carrot, and goat, its attempts at being hearty and wholesome fell short.  The goat is an acquired taste – a strong, overpowering meaty taste that gets no balance from the other ingredients.

The jerk chicken is brined, spice rubbed and slow cooked in an oven.  The bird is then finished on a blazing grill, and all the marinate, and juices caramelize to a sticky glaze.  The initial taste of the jerk marinade was wonderful, but for some reason didn’t penetrate into the flesh of the chicken, which was a shame.  However, the bird was juicy and moist and plentiful.

Because there was a danger we still might be able to walk out of there, we ordered some desserts as well.  Our endearing street hustler waiter was on hand to recommend the dark and stormy and the chocolate creameux.

The dark and stormy is effectively an old fashioned Christmas fruit cake – heavy, dense and it needed the rum ice cream to alleviate the dryness of the cake.  The chocolate creameux was a wonderful quenelle of creamy chocolate mousse served with a passionfruit sorbet.

Miss Lily’s has a natural ‘joie de vivre’ and has probably provided the best overall restaurant experience of 2016 so far.  It was a night of good honest food, a slightly suspicious hustler of a waiter and a catchy soundtrack.

What will stop me from going back anytime soon was the price of the bill – 70 dhs for the cocktails, 360 dhs for the ribs and 35 dhs for some frozen French fries.  I checked the prices against their New York menu and of course, Dubai is at least 60% more expensive than NYC on some dishes.

I can’t deny that Miss Lily’s has bombastic charisma and some solid Caribbean soul food, but at those prices, it’s going to be 2017 before I can justify going back.

minilogo Miss Lily's

As usual, I was horribly lost in Jumeirah again, for the second weekend in a row.  The last time, I had an excuse, as there was a road closure that I could hang the blame on, but this time, it was all on me.  The usually unflappable SatNav voice was conveniently silent, and thanks to my increasingly frantic left-hand turns deeper and deeper into Jumeirah, I was in danger of getting a sideward look from The Serb.  You don’t want a sideward look from the Serb – it is like the gaze of Medusa.

So, it was with a huge sense of relief that I pulled up in front of Stomping Grounds – which of course was not where I meant to go, but any port in a storm will do.

Stomping Grounds is Dubai’s answer to that coffee shop in Friends. It’s where Joey, Rachel, Ross and Chandler Bing would hang out if they lived in Jumeirah and drove G-wagons and Cayennes.  The other two would also hang out there, but I can’t remember their names.

A self-proclaimed specialty coffee hub, Stomping Grounds is a cozy, intimate café with a feel good factor.  You would feel happy with a Facebook check-in and a quick Instagram post of your coffee next to a dog-eared copy of Shantaram, with a caption, ‘Happy Sunday everyone!’

The coffee bar took center stage and was overflowing with young waiters and waitresses, carrying notepads and pencils along with their hopes and dreams.  All the fancy brewing apparatus were visible, such as the cold brew that takes twelve years to produce 7/8th of a drop of liquid, or the Steampunk machine that requires an iPhone app and retina scans of four different baristas to switch on.

Along with their in-house roaster, it is obvious they take their coffee very seriously, and they join a growing list of accomplished Caffeine Heads in Dubai that are elevating the quality (and ahem, the price – don’t think we don’t notice!) of the good old cup o’ joe.  Our coffees arrived quickly and were well-crafted beverages of very good quality.  (In Jumeriah, you have to use words like crafted – especially when talking pretentiously about coffee, which I do a lot to anyone who will listen.)

The interior is polished concrete, varnished wood, re-upholstered retro-period chairs, and warehouse chic lighting.  The food is served on slate and wooden boards and stoneware.  You get the idea – it is as hipster as you can get in Jumeriah.  Which means there are no beards or body piercings – you want those, go to Al Quoz and pay for parking!

I am reluctant to tell you about the menu because I get the feeling that when I do, there will be a collective “Oh, of course, they do,” from the five of you that read this far into a review.

So, just in case you can’t guess what’s on the menu, they have breakfast items such as home made granola, Quinoa Delight, Exotic Chia and French Toast.

They have a Croque Madam called Load O’ Croque and a Baked Egg Boat as well.  Throw in a couple of bagel choices and some pancakes and you have yourself a menu that is just about on trend.

However, we weren’t there for breakfast – we were meant to be somewhere else for breakfast, but as I explained, I took a few wrong turns and breakfast turned into a late lunch.

The ‘lunch onwards’ menu reads a lot better – halloumi pear salad, breaded prawns, and gluten free bruschetta.  They also had things like lobster thermidor and truffle fries (we were in Jumeirah, remember) and Philly steak with a twist.  Solid café culture food with enough choices that most people should find something they like. Even the gluten intolerants.

I’m reluctant to tell you what The Serb ordered because I get the feeling that when I do, there will be a collective “Oh, of course, she did” from the three of you that read this far into a review.

So, just in case you can’t guess, The Serb ordered the slider burgers.  They arrived on a wooden board, and because we were in Jumeriah (have I mentioned that already?) there were four sliders, not the usual three. There was a sweet chutney of sorts along with a potato bun that held the integrity of the slider very well. The meat, although seasoned well, was a little over tenderised with a very fine grain, so it was almost like a pate rather than a patty. (see what I did there?!)

I ordered the loosely named BBQ chicken pizza that was home to chicken, sun-dried tomatoes, and a bunch of other toppings as well. The crust was stone baked and should have been left on the stone another few minutes – it arrived looking a little pale, although the structure of the dough was open, evenly baked and didn’t suffer from a soggy bottom.  I hate a soggy bottom.  It was a surprisingly good pizza, seeing as they offer so much variety on their menu.

What needs a mention are the staff – they are friendly, attentive and sharp enough to engage in conversation with both expats and locals alike.  However, if I had access to such pure caffeine, I would talk to everyone as well.

Stomping Grounds know that their coffee will always take center stage, both in focus and quality, although the food menu shouldn’t be overlooked either.  All in all, Stomping Grounds is a great little place to get lost in for a few hours.

minilogo Stomping Grounds

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

NAME: Kyo Restaurant & Lounge

WE ARE: Japanese restaurant and lounge

DATE OPENED: 08/31/2016

WHO’S BEHIND IT: Launched by Dubai-based Dar Al Dhiyafa, Kyo means both ‘Today’ and ‘Entertainment’ in Japanese and is about accepting each day and making the most of every moment.

LOCATION: Dubai

STREET ADDRESS: Golden Mile 1, Palm Jumeriah

WEBSITE: kyorestaurant.com

PHONE: 04 557 5182

E-MAIL: reservations@kyo-cafe.com

TWITTER:

INSTAGRAM: @KyoRestaurant

Blurb:
Kyo Restaurant & Lounge brings a hint of Japan to Dubai, allowing guests to experience an authentic glimpse into this inspiring culture and cuisine. Meaning both ‘Today’ and ‘Entertainment’ in Japanese, this ultra stylish restaurant boasts both indoor seating, arranged in a social and contemporary design, and an impressive outdoor lounge. Bringing a unique concept to Palm Jumeirah, Kyo is a place where great company and talk-of-the-town food combine to provide an unforgettable dining experience.

From the Foie Gras and Shiitake Gyoza to Pumpkin Tofu starters and Crispy Marinated Black Cod to Braised Veal Short Ribs main courses, the menu at Kyo is creative and varied, with each dish impressing the palate more than the last. Meanwhile, the enticing selection of mouth-watering mocktails perfectly complements the cuisine and further enhances the dining experience. The outdoor terrace will see guests experience live cooking options in the form of mobile Teppanyaki stations, while those wanting to enjoy Shisha will be blown away with the unique, Japanese-inspired flavours.

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW
NAME: Totora Cebichera Peruana

WE ARE: Born out of a desire to bring to Dubai the genuine flavours of Peru, Totora Cebicheria Peruana comes to the DIFC Gate Village with a promise to turn every visit into a colourful culinary journey through Peru.

DATE OPENED: 03/01/2016

WHO’S BEHIND IT: Co-founder Ali Sidani and Rania Al Khalifa alongside Roya International’s chairman Ahmed Ramadan.

LOCATION: DIFC

STREET ADDRESS: Gate Village, Building 7 Dubai International Financial Centre Dubai, UAE

WEBSITE: http://www.totora.com/

PHONE: +971 (0)4 399 9666

E-MAIL: info@totora.com

TWITTER: https://twitter.com/TotoraDubai

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/totoradubai/

Blurb:
The inspiration for our venue’s name comes from a versatile plant that inspired the imagination of a young man. He first saw this robust plant featured in an edition of the National Geographic. People from the mid-coast region of Peru dry out and weave the reeds to build ‘Caballitos de Totora’, small canoe-like vessels used mainly for fishing expeditions. This eventually translated into an ambition to discover and experience the rich culture of Peruvian life and gastronomy. From the simple yet rugged origins of the Totora plant to its inspirational uses in everyday life, we employ this iconic material to showcase our passion and creativity for a fresh and authentically unique Peruvian experience.

Our concept has been centered around a love of food and life.

This restaurant has had a little bit of an identity crisis.  It used to be called ShishFish, which was much too exciting and unique – so they went through a rebranding, initially advertised themselves as Meat the Fish and then finally settled on Meat’n’Fish.  This is how the conversation went down, the morning of the opening.  Verbatim, of course.

“Let’s name the restaurant after what we sell. Keep it simple.” 
“What, Fish and Meat?”
“No, of course not – that doesn’t work at all – how about Meat and Fish?”
“Too long. It’ll never catch on.”
“I’ve got it! Ready? Meat’n’Fish.”
“Perfect – open the doors.”

It reminds me of those old Omani shops that were named after what they sold. Literally.  For example, a clothes shop was ‘Sale of Ready Made Garments’, and a toy shop was ‘Sale of Novelty Items’.  So the good thing with Meat’n’Fish is you know exactly what you are getting.  No irony, or ambiguity or imagination here.

Located in Box Park, that winter retail park in Jumeirah, Meat’n’Fish is a restaurant that plays life with a straight bat and avoids controversy at all costs.  It is a Mediterranean restaurant with Greek, Italian, Spanish and Portuguese influences that showcases a large menu of cold and hot appetizers and mezze, meats, and fish.  Nothing complicated, nothing fancy or on trend and not a hipster in sight.  Slightly refreshing, in an old-fashioned way.

The interior is pleasant but safe.  They kept the design work to a minimum, with light woods and some nice accents of Santorini blues and whites.  The tables have ridiculous hanging lights that threaten to knock out the serving staff every time they come close to the table.  The music playing was Spanish and delighted our Spanish dining companions.  However, to put it into context, they were happy just to find parking, so they clearly find happiness in the most simple of things.

The waitress was very chatty and helpful with her recommendations on what we should order.  I am sure it was just a coincidence that her recommendations were also the most expensive items on the menu.  She also showed considerable bravery and a high threshold for pain, as she suffered fourteen different blows to the head from the hanging lights while talking us through the menu.  The management should issue crash helmets as part of the uniform.

The menu is substantial, and with that many choices, either the chef has eight arms, or knows a few tricks on how to manage so many options.

Seeing as there were four of us and the Serb was particularly excited about a restaurant with meat in its name, we went to town on the orders.

We tried a smoked eggplant salad, which was prepared tableside.  Well, as close to the table and the hanging lights allowed.  The burnt eggplant was cleaned, chopped and mixed with tomatoes and dressing.  It was a solid dish – the smokiness of the char controlled by the acidity of the tomato.

We had the grilled halloumi cheese with a lime dressing and a popular sizzler dish – the prawns and mushrooms in garlic.  We also added a Romano stuffed pepper for good measure.  The halloumi passed the squeak test, but the honey lime dressing was too watery and too sharp to pair well with the cheese.

The Romano pepper had a wonderful, deep red colour, that contrasted brilliantly with the white of the feta cheese.  It was served cold, as it is meant to, but personally, I think it would have benefitted from a quick blast under the grill to allow the flavours to mingle a little.  The breadbaskets were a little dull and could do with an injection of imagination.

We also ordered a mixed grill, a pita bread set, and a whole sea bass, cooked in a salt crust.

The mixed grill was presented nicely, and the variety of meats were juicy, well cooked and tasty.  But again, it was a safe play by the restaurant, focussing getting the basics right, rather than on innovation or menu creativity.  There is often a beauty in simplicity, and Meat’n’Fish produce very simple Mediterranean food in a confident and unpretentious style.

We ordered the salted fish on the suggestion of our waitress.  If you have never had a salted fish, it is basically a whole fish that is covered in a sticky rock salt paste and baked in a very hot oven until the paste becomes a crust.

I feel bad for what we put that poor sea bass through.  Firstly, it was plucked from the waters, and shoved into an ice display for a couple of days.  Then it is manhandled from its ice bed, encased in a salt sarcophagus and baked in a kiln oven for 30 minutes.  Then, what I can only describe as an archeological autopsy was performed, where the waiter used brushes, pickaxes and hammers to remove the fish from the salt crust, which, to make matters worse, was on fire, by the way.  He then performed a tableside autopsy, removing the head, tail, skin, and bones and finally serving the fillets to us on a nicely decorated platter. Primary conclusion – that fish had a really bad week. Secondary conclusion – the fish was cooked perfectly – moist and juicy.  However, it would have benefited from being stuffed with a fragrant herb of some sort, and because it wasn’t, it was unadventurous and lacked flavour.

There was a lot of food – Meat’n’Fish are not stingy with their portions, but they utilize an avoidance strategy with average, consistent Mediterranean cuisine.  I now know how they manage to keep so many items on the menu – they keep it straightforward and uncomplicated, and don’t waste unnecessary effort on fancy recipes.  They are textbook and standard – traditional and reliable.  The staff were friendly, attentive, knowledgeable and hospitable, despite the continuous head trauma from the hanging lights.

Do Meat’n’Fish do enough to be heard in the noisy restaurant scene? For me, I’m not totally convinced, but for my easily pleased friends, they seemed, well – pleased.  As for the Serb, you had her at ‘Meat.’

A nice, solid job done by Meat’n’Fish.

minilogo Meat'n'Fish

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

NAME: Muchachas Mexican Cantina
WE ARE: A contemporary take on Mexican food

DATE OPENED: 08/25/2016

WHO’S BEHIND IT: From trendy cafés to courtyard sports bars, the team behind some of Dubai’s coolest eateries including Tom&Serg have a new string to their award-winning bow – Muchachas Mexican Cantina.

LOCATION: Jumierah

STREET ADDRESS: Holiday Inn Express Safa Park – Jumeirah

WEBSITE: http://www.muchachasdubai.com/

PHONE: 04 327 5878

E-MAIL: hola@muchachasdubai.com

TWITTER:

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/_muchachas_/

Blurb:
Food-wise, there ain’t no Tex Mex round here; no way José. Muchachas’ extensive menu is a take on contemporary Mexican food centred on sharing (coz sharing is caring). The extensive menu has been lovingly curated by Bull&Roo’s talented team of chefs so everyone will be leaving VERY satisfied.

Customers can expect dishes such as the Grilled flank steak taco (29AED) or the SUPER cheesey queso fundido with spiced devil prawns and pineapple (76AED), alongside home-made tortillas. They say don’t judge a book by its cover, but it really does tastes as good as it looks. And if you just can’t decide, you can always opt for our Fiesta Menu where you just sit back and relax and we serve you a bunch of staff favourites (225AED pp). You can also join us for our weekday lunch deal (12pm – 3.30pm) for just 65AED and get around two tasty tacos and salad or a delicious cut of meat served with rice and salad, for just 65AED.

At the bar, you’ll be choosing from a beverage menu that’s heavily focused around tequila-based cocktails and boy, will they send you to a radical paradise! Our magical mixologists have applied their experience from around the world to curate not only a super diverse but super delicious offering (fret not, there’s loads of margaritas and sangria too!).

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

NAME: WILD & THE MOON
WE ARE: BASED ON THE SIMPLE BELIEF THAT FOOD SHOULD BE GOOD FOR YOU, GOOD FOR THE PLANET AND ABOVE ALL DELICIOUS.

DATE OPENED: 08/04/2016

WHO’S BEHIND IT: We thrive on love, energize in sunrays, pause and listen to the silence, kiss dew drops on flowers, gaze at stars on summer nights and feast on wilderness.

LOCATION: Al Quoz 1

STREET ADDRESS: Alserkal Avenue Street 8, Unit H77, Alserkal Avenue

WEBSITE: http://wildandthemoon.com/

PHONE: +971 4 343 3392

E-MAIL: contactdxb@wildandthemoon.com

TWITTER:

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/wild_and_the_moon/

Blurb:
We offer a selection of organic cold pressed juices, smoothies, salads, soups, desserts, crackers and snacks, herb teas and coffees; created by chefs, nutritionists and a tribe if food lovers to provide a healthy twist to the urban crowd.

We go for wild, local, plant-based, ethically sourced, seasonal and pure. We use vegetables, fruits, herbs, roots, nuts and super food. And we like to serve them that way:
cold-pressed, raw, intact, and prepared with love.

No processed ingredients, no additives, no chemicals, no GMOs, no gluten, no dairy, no refined sugar.

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

NAME: Miss Lilly’s
WE ARE: the celebrated Caribbean oasis with two locations in the heart of downtown New York City, and an international outpost in Dubai.

DATE OPENED: 08/01/2016

WHO’S BEHIND IT: The Miss Lily’s family includes a lively Jamaican style diner, a Caribbean Rum Bar, and a Jerk Shack and Juice Bar.

LOCATION: SZR

STREET ADDRESS: Sheraton Grand Hotel

WEBSITE: http://www.misslilys.com/

PHONE: 971 4 354 4074

E-MAIL: reservations@misslilysdxb.com

TWITTER:

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/misslilys/

Blurb:
The island connection runs deep at Miss Lily’s through its modern approach to classic Jamaican cooking, friendly and cool-as-can-be staff, and vibrant and colorful atmosphere. The Miss Lily’s culinary team is led by Executive Chef Adam Schop, a New York native who previously led the kitchens at Nuela in NYC and Le Diplomat in Washington, DC. Schop has over two decades of culinary experience under his belt and a long-standing passion for international cuisine, evident in his fresh, creative take on Jamaican fare. Chef de Cuisine Andre Fowles is a Jamaica native who started his culinary career at the famed Mac’s Chop House in Kingston and then at Montego Bay’s five-star resort Round Hill Hotel & Villas, under award-winning Executive Chef Martin Maginley. Andre is also a two time champion of The Food Network’s “Chopped” including winning the “Caribbean Challenge.”

Drawing from the diverse roots of Jamaican cuisine, the menus offer modern renditions of island specialties like jerk chicken, escovitch fish, oxtail and curried goat – seasoned with scotch bonnet peppers and fiery jerk spices. In short, Miss Lily’s is an island vacation in the middle of a busy cosmopolitan city.

I can see what Bazxar is trying to do – they have shunned the need to be a specialist in one discipline and have attempted to compete in a multitude of events. They are a fine dining restaurant, a casual eatery, an Asian concept with an American meat district, a bakery, and a bar. They are the Decathlon athlete in an Olympics that is busy with single event specialists. They are not here to take part; they are here to try to take over. If it sounds risky, that’s because it is. It is confident, brave and exciting, but it could just as easily be arrogant, foolish and unnecessary.

Located in the hallowed corridors of DIFC, Bazxar is a self-proclaimed food hall, although walking in; I saw little indication of a hall-like space. The floor is divided into multiple and numerous nooks and crannies and is full of bottle-necks, narrow corridors and densely spaced tables and benches. The design is industrial (of course) with some nice finishes and detailing, and a heavy reliance on steel, brick, and wood.

The hostess guided us through the Olympic obstacle course of tables and chairs and half-heartedly indicated with a floppy Discus-throw arm movement, that we could sit anywhere we wanted. After checking we hadn’t suffered any casualties or losses in our trip through the restaurant, we sat in the meat district, which is less of a meat district, and more of a meat patch with two tables and a counter overlooking the meat kitchen and some nice graffiti-style artwork on the back wall. The hostess dropped the menus in front of us and without another word of encouragement or explanation, started the arduous journey back to her station.

I had some questions about the menu, so I flagged down a very enthusiastic young man who listened very carefully to my inquiries and then immediately went to get our waitress so that I could repeat myself to her all over again. Perhaps I had flagged down a customer by mistake, and he was too polite to say anything?

Anyway, there are several menus to Baxzar. The fine dining menu, (which was unavailable to us in economy class) shows some real promise in dishes like branzino from the Josper and roasted cornbread with buratta. However, they insist on calling their food ‘things’ as in ‘wood-fired things’ and ‘various things from various places’ which I find a little odd. Equally, the menus are vague, mysterious and eclectic– for example, the king crab comes with ‘street stall flavours and condiments’. I honestly don’t know what street stall flavours are, and I’m more worried than curious about what street stall condiments are. Some dishes are also served with ‘scoops of salad’ and of course, all dishes are served when ready.

Our menu was that old classic of East meets West, with the West menu heavily favoured with nachos, potato skins, mac and cheese balls and a decent burger and hot dog selection as well. The East doesn’t fare so well in terms of menu choices – you are limited to a smaller selection of steamed baos, Asian salads, and noodles.

Shrimp popcorn, crispy mac & cheese and stuffed potato skins were ordered for the table, with duck steamed bao, Asian salad, soy glazed chicken noodles and the garlic prawn penne pasta to follow. I know it sounds like a lot of food, but there were two of us eating. That’s a lie – there were three.  Maybe.

I was getting a sense of impending doom that perhaps Bazxar had bitten off more than they could chew. That is a big menu to come out of one kitchen operation. That’s a lot of ingredients needed and more importantly a lot of specific culinary competency to pull off so many different flavour origins. Does anyone know how difficult it is to get street stall flavours right? Does anyone know what street stall flavours are? I was alone in my apprehension apparently – my dining companions seemed oblivious to the danger signs and in fact, seemed to be enjoying themselves. I tried to relax a little and have some fun.

The starters arrived, and my concerns were alleviated – a little. The food looked fresh and lively, and the overall presentation was on-trend and perfect for the dynamic professionals of DIFC. However, due to the sheer scale of the menu, there were bound to be some shortcuts taken by the kitchen. They were noticeable, but not a red-flag-waving noticeable. The popcorn shrimp was probably pre-breaded, cooked from frozen but perfectly edible, pairing well with the chipotle ranch sauce. The mac & cheese were a little dry and bland but were eaten quickly, and the potato skins were too soft and chewy but had generous toppings of sour cream and cheese.

The mains followed the same trend – the garlic prawns packed a good flavour but were drowned in a heavy cream sauce – no respectable penne should have to endure that much sauce. The Asian salad was too heavy on the Chinese cabbage, too light on the papaya and I don’t recall seeing any mango at all – but had a great depth to it with the sweet basil ponzu. The duck bao was really good – I suspect the bun is a premade product, but the duck was sweet, sticky, with BBQ undertones. The noodles were passable, but certainly not gold medal standard.

Overall, I think the food is good – I admire Bazxar for their sheer ambition, but I think the staff need to have a little more conviction about the concept with better table attentiveness and desire to discuss who they are a little more. We had to send up a flare to get someone to come back to take our coffee order. We had to blow our safety whistle to find someone for the check and the only time we were paid any genuine attention was when we were leaving, unfortunately. Having said that, the staff were friendly and smiley, which is good, because it’s easy to train the rest.

There are equally as many good things to share – it is a young and energetic team, the menu is varied and wide ranging, and the quality is perfectly acceptable, bordering on good. I’ve heard great things about the Nutella milk shake, the burgers, and steaks. The space is exciting and different, and the overall experience is perfect to feed, fuel and energize the DIFC crowd before heading back to their offices to sign more multi-million dirham deals or whatever it is they do there.

Bazxar doesn’t quite do enough for me to warrant a gold medal, but they do certainly deserve to be able to put on their podium pants.

minilogo Bazxar

A Mexican friend of mine told me about La Taqueria and said this was the restaurant all Mexicans go to in Dubai for authentic Mexican food.  The thought of reviewing a newly opened Mexican restaurant with a Mexican friend who has an encyclopaedic knowledge of Mexican cuisine and cooking techniques excited me no end!  Finally a restaurant review with some real substance! Did I mention this gentleman boasts a supernatural sense of taste and deep understanding of South American flavours and textures?  This would elevate my review to a level not seen before.  This was a game changer – a massive opportunity to bring some well-needed credibility to my work.

However, unfortunately, my Mexican friend was busy and turned down my invite.  So I invited a non-Mexican bloke instead who unfortunately accepted the invite.  Yes, I am as disappointed as you are but life goes on, and so must this review.  I apologise in advance for what you are about to read.  It’s not going to be as good as it could have been.

The location of the restaurant is terrible – lost in the empty buildings of Business Bay with no signage or easy access. They would win the “Hidden Gem” award, if only the judges could find them to give them the prize. This place will not benefit from passing trade anytime soon.

The interior is amateur and lacks the mandatory Dubai gloss and polish. There is exposed brick, but they are industrial breezeblocks, not imported Mexican redbrick. They have minimalistic lighting, but we are talking clinical fluorescent strip lights, not Edison bulbs. There is an open kitchen, but that’s because the door is propped open by a crate of Masafi.  This place is not going to win any awards for interior design.

The fifteen tables and chairs are rickety steel things which favour function over form, and the acoustics of the place can make a man go mad.  There isn’t a tall, attractive hostess ready to charm you into signing over your first-born child, nor some well trained, polished waiter to upsell you their most expensive dish.

There is nothing on the windows, no graphics or fancy foodie slogans, no decorative items, just a slap of paint, a quick brush of the concrete floor and the doors are open.

But, by Jove, they don’t need any of that. They really don’t. Walking in, there is an honesty – a humbleness that is almost tangible. There is a bell at the entrance with a sign that reads, “If you liked the food, ring the bell on your way out.” That tells you everything you need to know about the place.

There is no-one to there to seat you, but a guy sitting quietly on a laptop in the corner stands up and greets you with a genuine smile and friendly hello as soon as you walk in.

He brings over a menu card, holding it like he’s surprised they even have menus.  He immediately asks if he can get you a drink, but he asks as if you are a good friend who has come over for a chat. Thankfully, he doesn’t really think this and refrains from sitting with me at the table.

A Taqueria is simply a place that sells tacos, burritos, and other Mexican food. The menu is a single card with about twenty options, ranging from ceviches to soups and prime steak to salads – and of course the tacos.  Los Tacos.

As I waited for my disappointingly non-Mexican friend to arrive, I tucked into some nachos and the trio of sauces they bought over. There was a dark habanero salsa, pureed guacamole, and a chipotle salsa. I confidently tried a healthy amount of habanero salsa and instantly regretted it as I felt my face go numb thanks to the mule kick of heat at the end.

My dining partner finally arrived and knowing his Mexican food experience was a jar of guacamole and a bag of Doritos that he bought from a Blockbuster checkout when he rented Red Heat back in 1988, I placed the order for both of us.

We ordered the tacos and the quesadilla. Simple, honest and outstanding. The tacos that La Taqueria serve are derived from the street tacos of Mexico, not the Americanized versions we are used to. They are all about the meat flavours, marinades and cooking techniques. The quality is laid bare for everyone to appreciate and they don’t hide behind fancy presentations and unnecessary sauces and toppings.

The Barbacoa taco was exceptional – slow cooked in it’s own juices, the beef takes on a tender, deeply flavourful profile.  It is then generously ladled onto a homemade, warm corn taco and served with house-made mole.  The chicken in the next taco was tender, slightly charred but juicy and loaded with flavours only a chef with a real understanding of Mexican cuisine could deliver.

The asado taco was small cubes of marinated beef, which released a deliciously salty and umami flavour that left me salivating for more.  I was regretting inviting my friend even more now.  I should have come alone.

There is a duck taco too, which is incredibly moreish and the taco pastor is the shawarma equivalent in taco form.  Their quesadillas are deep-fried and surprisingly light, stuffed with a mild Mexican cheese.

For what it’s worth, my friend also agreed that the food was sensational and had heard of La Taqueria’s credibility on the industry grapevine.  However, I largely ignored his feedback – did I mention that he wasn’t Mexican?

They are a bit slow on their delivery of the food, and the overall service is kept to a bare minimum – but if they can keep the food standards up, then a lot of flaws can be forgiven.

However, what it has in abundance is an infectious charm and enthusiasm. The guys running the place are the owners, and they run it like it’s their livelihood – because it is.  Husband and wife with brother-in-laws and friends.  They engage in conversation and ask genuine questions about your experience.  They want to know your names and expect a handshake and a goodbye when you eventually leave.

I went to a recently opened restaurant last week in a five-star hotel. Everything was perfectly fine, but for some reason, it didn’t warrant a review.  It wasn’t until I visited La Taqueria that I figured out why.  The difference was night and day between the two. One was heavy on design and PR and glitz and glam, and the other was heavy on charm and honesty and hard work and passion.

I know which one I prefer, and my recommendation is to make your way there as fast as you can.  Don’t worry about finding it – just listen for the continuous sound of that bell.

minilogo La Taqueria Mexican Restaurant

I know very little about Jamaican cuisine. In fact, when quizzed by the Serb on the main ingredients of Jamaican cooking, I started with mango and stopped there. A couple of silent minutes later, I added pineapple to the list. The car remained silent. I tried to save myself by explaining that if you say the word ‘beer can,’ it sounds like ‘bacon’ in a Jamaican accent. That didn’t help the silence in the car either, but i know she was trying it in her head. Just like you are now.

Ting Irie is a Jamaican restaurant in Downtown Dubai, tucked away in the Al Manzil Souk. It’s difficult to explain the décor, once you walk through the doors. There are two distinct rooms, and they have tried to go for the beach shack feel, with sun-bleached wood detailing.

However, design wise, they then take a left at the traffic lights and veer off into parts unknown. In the main dining room, Ting Irie suffers from a very low ceiling height and with significant bravery, they decided to make it a feature, instead of trying to blend it out. The entire expanse of the ceiling is covered in a psychedelic kaleidoscope of Jamaican patterns and colours – bright, bold, distracting, alluring and polarizing. I hated it; the Serb liked it. To make matters worse for me, the two walls are full-length mirrors, so the madness continued for infinity and beyond.

The creativity behind the concept is Mr. Craig Wong, a Jamaican Chinese, French-trained chef who lives in Toronto. No, I didn’t make that up. Wong has a successful restaurant in Toronto, called Patois (a native dialect spoken in Jamaica) which serves an innovative blend of Chinese Caribbean cuisine. His Dubai outpost, Ting Irie, is just as playful, but a little more primitive and base in the menu and perhaps underestimates Dubai’s desire to be taken seriously as a foodie city. We have the Michelin Guide coming, mon!

Let’s be honest here and call a dreadlock a dreadlock. Ting Irie is a heavily themed restaurant – as themed as TGI Friday or Rainforest Café. Even the name comes from a Bob Marley song – Everything’s Gonna Be Alright. The staff sing happy birthday accompanied by the sound of a reception desk bell, the music is eclectic reggae beats, and the menu is plagued with Jamaican lingo. That in itself is fine, fun almost – but when you start spelling menu items with a Jamaican accent, there is a danger of it becoming tacky. Spitfire Jerk Chicken is one example. At Ting Irie, it is, of course, spelled Spitfayah. Peppa Shrimp and Fish ‘a’ Mon are some more gems.

It must be incredibly tiring for the Jamaican service team. Imagine every guest shouting out their orders in a terrible attempt at your own accent. It’s not like the guests are doing it on purpose either – we are being forced to do it by reading the menu! Perhaps it is a massive Jamaican joke, and we are all being laughed at – the islanders are known for their love of life.

I mentioned earlier that I had very little experience with Jamaican cuisine, and I would have loved the waitress to take some time to chat with us and explain a little about the food, the restaurant, and the culture. It wasn’t busy when we were there – a couple of other tables only. She asked if we had been before – I said no and put on my best ‘tell me more, I’m a cultural sponge’ face. Instead, she informed us they had been open three months and asked what I wanted to drink. I ordered some sparkling water and looked down at the menu so she wouldn’t see my tears of disappointment.

The menu has starters (Likkle Bites), and main courses, (Big Tings) supported by a couple of salads (salads) and add-ons (add-ons). The menu is a hybrid of well-known soul food, infused with Caribbean flavours, such as jerk chicken shawarma, and jerky’s fried rice.

We ordered the Tun Up Tuna, a tuna tartare with sweet plantains, coconut, and lime. It arrived in a coconut shell and was elevated by the contrasting texture of the sweet plantains, the tuna, and the excellent flavour combination of coconut, lime, and sesame.

For the Big Tings (oh goodness, I’ve started) we had the Seabass Rundown and the Jerky’s Fried Rice. The jasmine rice is fried with jerk chicken, pineapple, and egg. The jerk chicken, for the uneducated, is not a chicken that was a bit of an idiot in the coup. Jerk is a style of cooking where the meat is seasoned with a pimento and scotch bonnet pepper marinade. The Jamaicans like things spicy!

The fried rice was served flowing out of a pineapple shell – a vessel that much impressed The Serb. The rice was just oily enough to be coated with flavour and light enough to support the pineapple and chicken. The chicken for me needed a little more punch – I was expecting more from the jerk spices.

The seabass was steamed in banana leaves and served with coconut rice. I know, healthy right? I presume that’s what Usain Bolt eats. Opening the banana leaves revealed an almost translucent piece of seabass, that flaked away with each touch of a fork. The coconut gravy provided a wonderful, creamy Caribbean touch to the dish.

We tried a dessert called the Puff Puff Pass. Luckily, because I live in Dubai, I can’t for the life of me think why they called it that. Three oversized macaron/slider looking pastries arrived filled with a different variety of creams and fillings. It was, however, pass pass pass for me. Too big, too sweet, too much.

They are still waiting for their liquor license, and one hopes that if they do get it, they can afford to lower their food prices, as it is quite a pricy meal as it stands.

As for the authenticity of the food, I am not able to adequately judge. As stand-alone dishes, they were well constructed, showed some serious marriage of flavours and were presented in a fun, entertaining way. I feel that perhaps many of the dishes have strayed from the original cuisine, and that might be a commercial decision more than anything else. Ting Irie don’t take themselves too seriously and offer a pleasant night out.

receipt2

minilogo Ting Irie

After everything that’s happening in the world at the moment, I yearned to be welcomed into the bosom of somewhere polite, friendly, comforting and kind.  I needed to feel safe and welcome.  I needed Canada – I think the world needs Canada right now.

Luckily for us, a small piece of Canada is here in Dubai, in the form of Weslodge, a self-proclaimed ‘creatively cool, rock and roll chic’ saloon.  I have no idea what a Canadian saloon is, but I’d like to think, rather stereotypically, that it’s a place where cowboys and Mounties drink sensibly and apologise to one another. Weslodge is located on the 600th floor of the JW Marriott Marquis. The lift doors open and you stagger out, light headed, into what can only be described as someone’s home office.  It is not, of course – that would be ridiculous – it is, however, the reception of the restaurant and two attractive ladies are there to welcome you and guide you through to your table.  Such is the size of the restaurant; I was tempted to drop breadcrumbs to ensure our way home.

Weslodge is spread over three separate rooms, and as you meander through the restaurant and bar, (which looks like it deserves another visit) you get the impression you are in someone’s living room. A very large living room, admittedly. Or, as the Serb put it, “they’ve turned the presidential suite into a restaurant.”

We were offered a table in the corner, a single bench for two facing the restaurant. So, we sat next to each other, underneath the portrait of what could have been the chef’s great great grandparents and looked out into the room. It was like we were driving, but without the steering wheel – or the car. It was like I was riding side saddle on a horse – it felt rather odd, and I probably looked quite odd too. The Serb, however, handled it with her usual effortless grace.

The restaurant is elegant, a little bit old school, quite feminine, but with some rough edges. It is a master class of design – herringbone hardwood floors with mosaics tiled areas accented by rugs and carpets.  Framed old world artwork adorns the light wood paneled walls with chandeliers and animal skulls that contrast against the industrial chic trend that plagues other restaurants. It is a series of contrasts that harmonize.  It is an eclectic collection of consideration.  I don’t even know what that last sentence means.

Our server for the evening escalated herself from waitress to BFF host, with feel-good affirmations of our food choices and good, honest conversation about Dubai and Canada. She was knowledgeable about the menu, attentive to our needs and there wasn’t a Canadian apology in sight. We almost wanted to ask her to join us for dinner, but she couldn’t because three people sitting side saddle is just weird.

Weslodge is part of a small but growing group of restaurants that are successfully exposing Dubai to the modern American menu. For example, there is devilled crab with apple and jalapeño and roasted beets with burrata, orange, hazelnut and Niagara vinegar. They have an impressive steak section that would be the pride and joy of most menus.  For Weslodge, it is merely another bit part actor in an all-star cast.  From grilled Welsh lamb chops with red onion chimichurri to a range of steaks all cooked over hardwood and charcoal, this menu is as good looking at the room it’s eaten in.

Weslodge has applied a considerable amount of technique to the menu, yet when the food arrives, it is unfussy, stylish, modest and approachable. It’s not easy to make this kind of food look easy.

Our meal consisted of the lobster poutine, ahi tuna ceviche, southern fried chicken, branzino, and s’mores. A signature Canadian dish, the lobster poutine is French fries, covered with gravy, and in this case, hollandaise and lobster meat. The Canadians chose the worst dish in the world to Instagram as their national food – but it is pretty moreish in their defense. I know lobster is expensive, but I would have enjoyed a little more meat on this dish. Despite me being greedy, it was a good dish to get dirty with.

The ceviche arrived and after being diced into small cubes, the raw ahi tuna is tossed with a yuzu hot sauce marinade and sesame, served with an avocado puree and black (squid ink?) crackers. It fizzed with flavour and freshness, just as a ceviche should.

The southern fried chicken had the coating of a Rocky Mountain outcrop – deliciously cratered and rough with sharp crispy edges. The chicken had probably been brined and marinated in buttermilk as it oozed juice and flavour with every bite. The breasts fared better than the leg when it came to taste and texture. Yes, I am still talking about the chicken. The breading was delicious, and it clung to the meat like a shower curtain on a wet body. Tabasco honey was drizzled over the meat and provided a wonderfully confusing contrast of sweet heat – like being punched in the mouth by an award winning hand model.

The branzino, a seabass, arrived whole but filleted, with a spicy jalapeño relish. The usually silver skin was blackened and charred by the charcoal and wood it was cooked over. This allowed the delicate, white flesh to absorb a smoky depth that was offset by a sharp lemon dressing drizzle. I’m not usually one for fish, especially one that arrives still with a head, (would you serve a chicken with its head?) but Weslodge’s branzino is further proof that rock and roll chic has a place in my dining calendar.

The S’mores were unnecessary, but utterly indulgent and totally the Serbs influence. The cracker layers seemed to have some cinnamon or nutmeg undertones, and paired well with the table side poured chocolate and the soft marshmallows. Weslodge is an experience of contradictions – the music, the décor, the contrasting flavours – none of it should work, and yet it does. It works brilliantly, and although we are only in July, we might have a contender for best new restaurant. Well done, Weslodge.  Take a bow.

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Below is our side saddle table for two.

table

minilogo Weslodge Saloon