I’d like to start by mentioning I’ve never been to a middle eastern country before. My experience comes from my numerous middle eastern meals across locations in non-middle eastern countries. And drooling over shows on the food network, thus enabling me to declare myself an armchair connoisseur on middle eastern food. I am as credible as a European giving his opinion on an Indian restaurant whilst never knowing what Indian food really is.
The marketing for the event was as convincing as a tourism brochure. “‘Taiim-Al-Arab’? They’re using Arabic sounding words! …. they certainly sound like they know what they’re talking about”. Maybe I should read it from the right just to put my self in the mood. The fare on the menu was typical, planned to arouse the interest of an outsider. I’d already seen everything on TV shows, which lured me into a faux confidence in my knowledge of Arab cuisine. Seduced by my notions of middle eastern foods corrupted by stereotypes, I bought myself a pass. And being the devout glutton, I started my fasts in preparation of ridding my palette of bias.
The venue was the same as Dastarkhwaan-E-Mughal, tables were filling fast by the time I got there. I think the organizers knew me by then. Maybe I’m overplaying my appreciation of the hospitality, but I got treated to a warm welcome by the host, a glass of cold water as soon as I agreed to one, and a welcome drink (the mocktail). I also got a personalized ‘magic show’ of card tricks as I was in the waiting area, much to the dismay of those around me who I heard going “Bhai Humko toh kuch bhi nai diya.”
I pointed out some inconsistencies in the mocktail to my host as I was seated, prompting him to show up with another one, made to my specification. For a drink titled ‘Arabian dream’, it was convincing. I’m sure Arabs dream of having green apples. It wasn’t too sweet, which is a lame giveaway of being generous on a concentrate. The seltzer used was ice cold and the carbonation was sharp; almost stinging. The crushed mint and sliced green apple were really appreciated. The base of the drink was carefully balanced to be a perfect match to how the slices actually tasted. Mint is always welcome in green or clear drink and makes for a refreshing experience. I’m glad I had two of these. There were still areas to work on in the mocktail. It was nowhere close to the perfection I saw in the khus sherbet in the Mughlai festival last time. I still maintain the 10/10 I gave that earlier. The ‘Arabian dream’ was close to an 8.
Falafel was served by the time the ‘Arabian dream’ ended. Most falafel I’ve had prior to this was hardly a memorable experience. At the most, it resembled a sad attempt at a callus-y Vada being touted as middle eastern comfort food. This falafel blew me, then utterly trashed every prior experience of falafel. I think it’ll be years till I get to sample a falafel as good as this. The crust on the surface was defyingly thin, and the insides were warm and crumbly. Falafel made with such dedication and innovation is a rarity in the country. Even at the highest rated restaurants in their category, all the falafels I’ve had have failed me and everybody else. I’d say it’s a tragedy we play right through this charade every day. The spices in the ground mixture gave a genuine savory taste. The heat from the spices was evenly spread throughout, as I chewed trough. The harissa complimented the falafel wonderfully and carried with it the acidity and the short burst of chili, distinct from the slow sustained heat of the falafel. The yoghurt maintained the contrast in temperatures and showed good integrity in its mixing, viscosity, and its ability to douse the heat by the ground chickpeas. It was the perfect balance. Until convinced otherwise, this is a 10/10 falafel; in every aspect.
The falafel vanished before I could make out what happened to it. The soup arrived as I was brooding over the future falafels I was going to be disappointed by. My order of a ‘Moroccan chicken and bell pepper soup’ was delivered swiftly. I’d asked for the bread basket to be delivered with it. I think the kitchen staff was on a roll here. You never look forward to soups, do you? They’re like the NPC in the cutscene in a video game. Nobody really cares, most are eager to skip through if this isn’t their first time. What really does the usual joe think about while having soup? After all, if you’re not sick, it’s just a filler to keep you patient till the entrée arrives. A soup loses all respect from the patron the moment t slightly resembles anything by Knorr. Often, it’s too hot, the tomato tastes too fake, or the sweetness is totally off. Otherwise you mostly find yourself fishing or the meat or veggies in a pseudo gelatinous goop, which again is lacking in pepper, salt or any taste at all. The typical soup eater is already expectant of disappointment in one or more fronts the moment he or she orders one. Seldom do one of them catch your fancy. The soup was like the supporting actor that steals the show, the George Costanza of the show. Sure, if you got rid of the soup, you’re losing out on significant substance of the show, there’s not much left to proselytize about
The falafel and soup were prodigies of the dinner. It tasted like the chefs were working a miracle back there. Despite the liberties with the butter, the soup delivered extraordinarily on every front. The chicken in it was cooked all the way through, marinated to perfection, yet tender enough to not feel sogged out in an apathetically boiled soup pot. The amounts of oregano were perfect, nothing near the assault people are used to when they empty a whole pack on a slice of pizza. The soup bought forth the flavors of pretty much every ingredient in it. I guess this is what made it special. Soups are usually homeopathic doses of spices subdued by heat that make you get into a guessing game with yourself. They even got the temperature right, optimal for consumption, with just the right thickness and aroma. The chicken was distinct from how the soup tasted and managed to stand out from the swirl of bell peppers and other spices the soup was. This again, was a 10/10 soup. I went full Oliver twist on the bowl, no regrets.
The bread basket was much appreciated with the soup. The bread was nice, soft, moist and warm on the inside. It felt like a hasty addition to the menu. The dips were more interesting. The tzatziki was really good. It carried the perfect temperature, the right amounts of cucumber and thickness of yoghurt. I might be tempted to say this is again, the best tzatziki I’ve had in years. The team behind the dips managed to distinguish these from an ignored side to something really special. Among the places I’ve been to that served baba ghanoush, it has always been a like a brinjal train wreck. This was different. The brinjal felt underplayed here, not too prominent, and was mixed well with the lime and garlic. The beetroot hummus was a little confusing; it was peculiar for me having never seen beetroot incorporated into hummus before. It was oddly a little sweet, and the colour threw me off. Nevertheless, it still bought something different to the table. The green harissa threw me off too. Isn’t harissa the Tunisian version of a Maharashtrian thecha? This was anything but. It was like the minty green chili paste that you’d find in a sandwich store. I mean sure, the ‘harissa’ was nice, but calling it harissa is wrong. It’s always cool when you get a pleasant surprise someplace you’re not expecting much from.
The appetizer was next. A ‘grilled Saj bread stuffed with brine vegetables and shredded chicken marinated in Mediterranean spices. I’ll be honest in calling what is was. This was an altered version of a kathi roll that you’d find in a mall food court. I couldn’t find anything worth mentioning here. The shredded chicken lacked any perceivable amounts of Mediterranean spices. There was something off in the plating too. I know this was supposed to be had with the harissa, but more elements to the course would’ve been appreciated for a ‘fuller’ look. This would’ve fit to better in a mall food court themed food fest than Taiim-Al-Arab. I almost felt betrayed by what a letdown this was after three back-to-back courses of wonderful food.
The tabbouleh was nice. A very light, cool, moist and crunchy vegetable salad. The plating made this even better. For a salad, I was expecting larger portions. It disappeared as fast as it came, and I was left longing for more. In fact, I’d say salads are the better way to begin a meal. We don’t need appetizers, we need good salads that’ll keep us occupied till the main course arrives. That’s the thing with appetizers, we’re always so short on them. I remember going to this restaurant where we ignored the main course and had an appetizer dinner. It was more expensive overall but very worth the satisfaction of having appetizers to your heart’s content.
I was excited now. Dastarkhwaan-e-Mughal had hit it out the park with the main course. I ordered the Iranian berry pilaf with the grilled chicken and chicken koftas. Had I not known this was a pilaf, I would’ve thought this was steamed rice. A big disappointment, nothing less. The koftas that accompanied were as dehydrated as the ‘dehydrated raisins’ that accompanied the pilaf. In fact, the raisins were the only taste in the pilaf I believe. The koftas were average, just randomly fired lightly fired chicken nuggets. I’m not sure if, what, or who went wrong here, but this was a really lackluster pilaf. Yes, I know what a pilaf was like, I was not expecting a biryani here, but come on! If someone could have even yawned on the pilaf I could’ve seen more effort here. The saving grace here was the grilled chicken. The portions were good, the spices and the oil were right, it was rich to the taste, and the penetration was excellent. Every chunk of meat oozed savory goodness and was cooked to perfection. This was good quality chicken. I washed it down with the ‘zaatar alzeem’ a pomegranate beverage with carbonated water. This was like the one I had in the school of culinary arts dinner.
I’m allergic to pistachios and almonds, which is why the baklava in the menu was changed to a kunafa for me. I don’t myself an authority for commenting on kunafas, but this was a new experience. It was hard, fatty, and very sugary and sticky; contrary to soft mushy texture I was expecting. Kunafas have a layer of sweet cheese inside, right? I don’t remember seeing one here. This was more like a sticky sailor’s biscuit. Finishing it took longer than I anticipated. This was a serious sugar and fat overload. An enjoyable experience nonetheless. The hosts also bought a serving of the baklava with the request I’d just give it a try. I tried just a small piece, and from what I could gather, this was really well made. It’s a real shame I’ve got allergies, otherwise I would’ve devoured this. There was a different sweetness to the baklawa, not stemming from just sugar. Maybe I found it new because of the richness added by the powdered almond and pistachios, which I believe, do make a significant difference in the quality of the preparation.
In summary, this was a great dinner. I had a wonderful time. The hospitality shown by the hosts is very hard to beat. Some of the food was to die for, and I’m not sure if and when I’ll get the chance to try something as good. Overall, I’d rate this dinner a solid eight and a half out of ten. Points docked for the mall food court appetizer and the pilaf disgrace. The attention to detail these guys put in is amazing. I’ve been to a lot of high-end places for fine dining, and the team here was the most graceful in handling criticism and feedback, as well as acting on it. it’s things like these that make these events memorable. Should the food be a win, bad service kills the mood. What the team here lost in food was made up for in service. Dinners like these make the hole burnt in your pocket was worth it. In fact, I look forward to burning another one.
Gourmet Food Reviews 