Goodbye Doha...

...Hello Dubai!

A sudden change at work brought about a bit of turmoil, and then an unexpected move to Dubai.  I got caught up in the transition, a wedding, the holidays, and business trips and, although I reviewed a lot of restaurants in the interim, I did not make the time to post them.  After dedicating an all-nighter to transferring the reviews in my notebook to the blog, I have finally published most of the back-logged reviews from September to the present, resulting in brand spanking new, never-been-read-before-posts for the rest of India, Istanbul, San Antonio, Dubai, New York, Paris, Florence, Travel Editions and, of course, reviews of my final meals in Doha.  Check them out by city or by month. Halfway there, and still working on the rest of them!

Please recommend TBRs for Dubai – ESPECIALLY for a great burger – in the comments to this section.  We’re still waiting, Danny Meyer.

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The Meat Co
Shop 14
Souk Al Bahar, Old Town
Burj Dubai, UAE

+971 4 420 0737

Your Critique Geek loves meat.  About once a month, I have a burger craving that comes on so strong, it makes me a bit wild. In my crazed, carnivorous state, I usually run to my nearest Shake Shack and git-r-done.  Luckily, I have been back to New York a few times since moving out to the Gulf, so I haven’t suffered terribly.  But it’s been two months already since my last Shackburger, so these past few weeks have been difficult.  I reached out to everyone I know for burger recommendations for Dubai, and a few people directed me to the Meat Co., a South African chain known for its quality meats.  I put it off as long as long as I could, but last weekend, I woke up in a frenzied state, looked in the mirror and saw that the burger deficiency had really done a number on me.  Every cell in my body called out for a burger.

I made a beeline to the Meat Co. in Souk al-Bahar.  After ordering my cheeseburger from a kindly man in spectacles, wearing a name tag that read “the professor,”  I waited.  The professor then asked me what I wanted to drink, and I asked him “what do you have to drink,” to which he replied “what do you want to drink?”  I don’t appreciate your pedagogy, professor!  Forget the drink!  Put in for the burger and good day to you!  I made sure to specify that I did not want any sauce on the burger (I don’t enjoy soggy bread), but the professor explained to me that bbq sauce comes standard for the burger.  I begged to differ.  I tried to get him to pass on my request for no sauce, but he promised that I would hardly notice it.  ”That’s how they grill the meat.”  Whatever!  Just bring a burger to me.  That’s all I want.  Please, professor, I’m begging you.

As he left the scene, a band of singers entered stage right with a couple of hand drums (two too many) and started singing a happy birthday that dragged so long it made Led Zepplin seem like a jingle composer.  Suddenly I felt an immense gratitude for the brevity of the standard birthday song.  Whoever composed it must have imagined how annoying it would be if it dragged on for 20 minutes.  Quite.  I tried to be happy for the birthday boy, and explain to myself calmly that this is what happens when you walk out of the safety and comfort of your own home to enter the public sphere.  You risk being annoyed and inconvenienced.  Grow up already. But it is incredible how a certain kind of hunger can suck all of the goodness and compassion out of you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

The burger finally arrived, with a side of fries, and I dug in.  I made it through about three bites and then I had to quit.  You see, I wasn’t merely hungry, I had a craving.  For a burger.  But this was not a burger.  It was a patty of ground beef drowned in barbeque sauce so sweet it could have been a dessert.  I might as well have joined the birthday party and had a piece of cake.  If the bun wasn’t freakishly thick and dense as a black hole, surely the sauce would have bled right through in less than a minute. Let me ask you this Meat Co.: if your meat is so good, why do you need to disguise its taste in such a dramatic fashion?

I had to walk.  And now I have opened a new case file – “In search of a respectable burger in Dubai.”

GET PAID

I don’t post restaurant news, so much as restaurant reviews, but this is particularly vexing.  I heard a while ago that Shake Shack was slated to open in the UAE and KSA in the coming months, and even thought about a special trip to Dubai to evaluate the quality control.   But then I read this: http://www.248am.com/mark/kuwait/shake-shack-in-kuwait-first/

Qatar is,  like, so much richer than those other losers. 

Seriously?  I’m hurt.  I will no longer be stalking Tina Fey at your UWS location.

(The Kuwaiti blogger claims that the decision to open in Kuwait came right after a complaining post, so it was worth a shot).

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It’s really lame that I didn’t take photos, I know.  But I was distracted by the buzz and I hadn’t slept for 40 hours. 

Because we decided to check it out only a few days before,  the earliest reservation available for a Friday evening was at 10:00 p.m.   We arrived around 15 minutes late with no good excuse.  Seeing the place (once described as a “loft new-yorkais”) full of trendy left bankers and frenzied waiters at that hour, we assumed we would be ignored.  However, whether it is a credit to the attentiveness and professionalism of the host or our own striking good looks, we were promptly acknowledged and seated. 

KGB’s “deal,” if you like, is chef William Ledeuil’s knack for French-Asian fusion (and of course the Art+Food concept).  Here you will find French dishes and techniques, embelllished with the pronounced use of kaffir lime, tumeric, galangal, ginger, thai basil, coriander, garlic root, chinese shallots, kra-chai, ngo’om, coconut milk, wasabi and tamarind, among other delicious Asian ingredients.   I was esssscited, to say the least, and the yumminess that ensued supplied my third wind for the evening.

Not to buck KGB tradition, if you can call it that in late November after an early  September opening, we started with zors d’oeuvres – small plates that showcase WL’s flair for the dramatic, and play on his apparent (if silly) predilection for “ze”: 1) beetroot/ turnip / carrot soup; 2) artichoke in a chestnut emulsion; 3) udon noodles with calamari and sesame sauce ; 4) smoked eel in a wasabi – parsley emulsion ; 5) cod croquette ; 6) shellfish noisette.   A light champagne accompanied zors d’oeuvres (I have to call them that, right?).  Though each tiny, fragrant and impeccably presented plate vied for my attention, the artichoke/chestnut combo won.  Two bites left me obsessed (the first startled me), even while my companion raved over the smoked eel/wasabi.   Those who use emulsions generally have to work harder to impress me, precisely because I suspect that they aim to impress.  However, this emulsion, definitely of the rare, unpretensious variety, came from the pure motivation to delight.  I could just tell.   I rated the dishes on the following scale of amazingness: artichoke (crazy amazing), shellfish (incredibly amazing), cod (reminded me of Luby’s cafeteria in TX in the old days, which were so amazing), eel (really amazing) , calamari (still quite amazing).  My companion rated them in this order: eel, calamari, artichoke, cod, shellfish.  You can say there’s no accounting for taste, and then note that when compiling our ratings, we both considered the soup concoction entirely forgettable.

On to the main event: perfectly al dente pasta, intensely fuschia from the brilliant use of beets for my companion, pork and veggie pot for me.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on the pulse of that pasta, but it was a tad spicy, phenomenally tasty.  As for my dish, well let’s just say KGB has a way with pork.   This tender, sweet, tangy pork, with its good clean fat really thrilled me.  Again, this is not Qatar-induced pork deprivation talking.  This is a genuine, honest and now sober assessment of a wonderful pork dish, surpassing excellence and bringing about a paradisiacal happiness.

The fall: Once presented with the dessert menu, plump and full of glee, we said, let’s just go with it.  Anyway, my companion had shared an enticing, even legendary, tale of a chocolate cappucino and hazelnut ice cream with pepper (!) at the sister restaurant, Ze Kitchen Galerie.  So we took the plunge, ordering the pomme confite, with ginger and grape sorbet (or something to that effect).  It was a mistake.  The miscalculation, the assumption on my companion’s part that the desserts here would be as good as at Ze Kitchen, the greed on both our parts.   Nothing horrible happened.  It was just a non-event.

But overall,  we deem this place worth the hype.  Put it on your list.  It’s still too early to tell, but this experience may be working to redefine my standard of an interesting dinner out.

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Ya heard right: the world renowned Italian eatery, Bice, has opened in Doha. Since the Persian Gulf iteration of winter has arrived, your Critique Geek has been hunting for new places to dine with outdoor seating and good views. Bice on the Pearl in Doha has both, but unfortunately, the overpriced, sub-standard food will prevent me from returning. When my companion and I arrived on a Tuesday evening sans reservation, the terrace was completely booked. However, after appetizers, a table became available and our server kindly gave us the option to relocate. The outdoor area is decidedly better than the indoor area, so if you go to Bice in spite of my recommendation (don’t do it!!!), make a reservation outside and at least enjoy the atmosphere. Indoors, the rounded booth seating and the floor-to-ceiling glass case full of wine are inviting enough, but the chairs look uncomfortable and the opposite wall looks more like a hotel conference room expander.

On to the food and drink.

Wine: Floor-to-ceiling glass case full of wine notwithstanding, Bice Doha has precious little to offer in the wine by the glass department. No one brought us a wine list or offered us alcoholic drinks before we asked (after quite some time had passed). And then we were basically told that they only had a “red” and a “white” option. I guess that simplifies matters, but I like to browse. We started with white and moved on to red. Both were adequate.

Bread and Appetizers: The bread was warm, which always good, but otherwise nothing special there. We were given a thyme crusted loaf and some foccacia, accompanied by a tapenade and sun dried tomatoes. Eh. Shoulder shrug.

I thought I wanted a simple green salad when I sat down, but then opened the menu to find not one, not two, not even three, but four carpaccios on offer (beef, octopus, lobster and salmon). After agreeing that carpaccio is a good test for a restaurant, we decided to try the lobster and the beef carpaccio. Our server commented “good choice” to my selection of lobster, implicitly insulting the selection of my companion who “only” ordered the beef carpaccio. Tip: please do not offer your unsolicited opinion on our food and drink choices.

Despite the hype / trepidation created by our discriminating server, both carpaccios were equally delicious. The lobster carpaccio was drizzled with yogurt (a cream diluted plain yogurt) and topped with artichokes tempura. It tasted exactly like what it was. Pure and simple. The beef carpaccio was slightly more complex and heavier, accompanied by (lovely, sweaty) parmesan and arugula, and dressed with a creamy sauce. Each of these dishes could have fed two.

Main course: I ordered the beef tenderloin with spinach. My companion ordered the black and white tagliolini with garlic, extra virgin olive oil, chili, tiger prawns, and asparagus. To that, the server said “I think we are out of the black pasta. Let me check.” And while my companion frantically searched for a back up, I sat, quietly despondent because I really wanted to sample that pasta. The server returned with the news that they were not, in fact, out of the black pasta and that we could proceed with the original order. Of course we were pleased, but was it really necessary to toy with our emotions thusly? We like adventure, but not this kind of dining by the seat of the pants. Tip: please come to the table equipped with at least that sort of basic inventory knowledge.

The main course was utterly disappointing on both counts. Overcooked pasta would bother most people (it bothers me), but it especially irked my companion who prefers pasta al dente. The pasta sauce had only the slightest trace of any chili, and we may have even imagined that because our taste buds wanted so desperately to taste it. Without a doubt we both have made, and purchased from the grocery store shelf, pasta sauce far superior to this one. The steak was also overcooked, and it tasted and appeared more like a chunk of meat out of a beef stew, albeit the size of my head. This prompted the articulation of the following rule of thumb: do not serve or eat anything bigger than your own head (i.e. rule of head). 

Dessert: On the recommendation of our server (a new one, since we relocated outside), we ordered the chocolate fondant with vanilla ice cream to share. When it arrived I was immediately turned off by the presence of powdered sugar sprinkled on top of the fondant. I guess it was supposed to be all cutesy and down home. I found it repulsive. As soon as we punctured it with a spoon, a rich chocolate aroma traveled quickly to our nostrils and then to our brain, with the promise of a heavenly taste. It lied. Honestly, it was okay – earthly – not better than your run of the mill fondant at a mediocre restaurant. Or your upscale grocer’s frozen dessert aisle (e.g. John Lewis Waitrose has some pretty good ones).

Apparently, carpaccio is NOT a good test for a restaurant meal. (Or maybe we have discovered an inverse function: Bice carpaccio good => bad everything else. Lo Spaghetto carpaccio terrible => delicious everything else).

Yes, we are spoiled, and yes, maybe most people would think that Bice is fabulous- especially in Doha where, for many, money is no object and the pickens are slim. Since I am reading Down and Out in Paris and London, I feel extra disgusted at myself for eating there and complaining about it. But what’s done is done, maybe this post can help others to avoid the same mistake. Bice on the Pearl is exhorbitantly expensive for no good reason.  When you are paying that much for dinner (~ QAR 450/person), you expect something more than a run of the mill fondant, a stewed steak and an overcooked pasta.    Bice has no excuse. It either needs to step it up and serve food comparable to its counterparts (I can vouch for the NY outlet anyway), or it needs to slash it’s prices by at least half. In the meantime, you can find me at Lo Spaghetto.

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guacamole

nachos (chicken and beef)

Rosario’s has consisently sweeped the official awards for Best Salsa, Best Nachos, and Best Guacamole in the Alamo City, but unofficially, it is considered by San Antonians as their overall best Mexican restaurant. Strange, then, that your Critique Geek, a Greater San Antonio native, doesn’t remember eating there as a child. Well, neither did her father, but then after we walked in, the memories came like a flood.  Dad actually did major renovations to the restaurant back in the day, when it was converted from the Old Jordan Ford dealership offices.  

The St. Mary’s street location, full of local art and shining neon lights, is a lively place to have a superb dinner at more than reasonable prices.  After feeling the kick on the back end of the roasted pepper/garlic salsa, we confirm that Rosario’s makes a peppy salsa.  The guacamole came with some interesting queso oaxaca sprinkled on top of it, which only obscured the absence of other vital ingredients.  A proper guac needs cilantro, jalepeno, onions and tomato.  We got a few tomatoes –  full stop.   Consternation and disappointment registered on each face simultaneously, reinforcing the family bond.  We adjusted, and we moved on.  

michelada (with chili powder)

This is a no frills kind of place, with no drink menu, and none of the fancy margaritas that you will find advertised in New York (say, in Rosa Mexicano), but waiters boast a full bar and can make you whatever you can conceive.  If that’s a pomegranate margarita, then you shall have it.  I opted for the Michelada (w/ Tecate), a good test for a Mexican restaurant.  Their salted rim is enhanced with chili powder, adding to the spiciness of every sip.  As Oprah would say, that was a wowser.  It needed more lime, in my opinion, but the waiters at Rosario anticipate these sorts of things by serving up limes aplenty.  I squeezed and squirted to my heart’s content.  Hey, I ain’t drivin’! Thanks ma!

This family meal presented a unique opportunity to sample a great many things from Rosario’s extensive menu.  My folks and sister indulged me, and agreed not to order the same things/types of things.

Appetizers: We began with the following appetizers: 1) ceviche and 2) nachos.  OMG, Rosario.  You have amazing nachos.  An expert bean-to-cheese ratio, on crispy tortilla chips, topped with perfectly grilled chicken and beef – moist, not dried out from baking, but fresh from the griddle.  The ceviche was packed with fresh, tangy flavor.  Mmm.

Main Courses: We proceeded to the following mains: 1) enchiladas de pollo, 2) tacos de pescado, 3) carne de puerco en chile casabel and 4) carne asada.  The waiter automatically served the pork dish to my dad.  Rookie mistake.  Some small girls also eat massive amounts of pork from time to time.  I am one of them.  Before we switched, I tried his chicken enchilada.  This was no typical enchilada (a rolled corn tortilla stuffed with something and covered with sauce and cheese).  It had real star quality.  The slow roasted chicken just melts in your mouth, and the blend of fresh cheese, roasted tomato and poblano peppers brought about an entirely new sensation for me.  It had a flow, it had a kick.  One after the other, impeccably timed.  The borracho beans that accompanied had a meatiness to them.  Not too much.

carne de puerco en chile cascabel

The refried beans that accompanied my pork were also great – not over-seasoned as they often are.  The pork itself fell apart at the sight of a fork. The casacbel sauce was a bit oily, quite chilied and heavy on the cumin – we agreed that it “tasted really Mexican.”  Another winner.

The fish tacos were so cool.  They consisted of bits of tilapia, oustanding for their pan grilled crunch, complimented with cabbage slaw mixed up with a chipoltle-mayo, and topped with avocado and oaxaca cheese.  The carrots and peppers in the rice we could have done without.  I suppose they add color, if nothing else.  The carne asada was adequate, but nothing to write home about.  Lucky me, I was already there.

Posted in Drink, Mexican, On the Cheap, On the Road Again, San Antonio, Winning Streak ]]> http://cgfd.wordpress.com/2009/11/12/san-antonio-mexican-rosarios/feed/ 1 cgfd IMG_6683 IMG_6689 IMG_6690 IMG_6685 IMG_6686 IMG_6688 IMG_6691 IMG_6695 IMG_6694 IMG_6693 http://cgfd.wordpress.com/2009/10/17/istanbul-mori-sushi/ http://cgfd.wordpress.com/2009/10/17/istanbul-mori-sushi/#comments Fri, 16 Oct 2009 23:30:38 +0000 cgfd http://cgfd.wordpress.com/?p=1085 Continue reading →]]> MORI

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I think we’ve just about established that the Middle East is not where you want to find yourself when you’re craving some good sushi.  Unfortunately, Mori, despite being the best of about five sushi restaurants in Istanbul, provides us with one more piece of evidence than is necessary close the case file on this one.  And yet I keep reopening it.  I thought this time it was going to be different. (I mean, Turkey is practically Europe!…said about 85% of Turks and about 15% of Europeans).

What’s it called when you keep subjecting yourself to the same bad situation over and over?  Jung’s avoidance of necessary pain?  Einstein’s definition of insanity?  Battered woman’s syndrome?  Wow, you and I, Turkey, we’re not so different.

Look, I’m not saying that Mori’s sushi is bad, because it’s not.  It’s just nothing special, and that hurts when you’re looking for something special.  So it’s my fault right?  I know.  What’s wrong with me?  I’m sorry.

We ordered the neguro (tartare w/ scallions), hitomi (fried seabass), edo (salmon/tuna/seabass/avocado/cucumber/tobiko), spicy sake (hello tabasco!), salmon teriyaki, and the house white wine.  The wine, the ambience (and, of course, the company!) made the meal.  The wine crisp AND smooth, and ambience relaxed, minimal deco, simple and clean.

Will I keep going back to sushi restaurants in the Middle East? If Turkey can move on, maybe I can too.

Posted in CG Off Her Rocker, Istanbul, Japanese, On the Road Again, Yani So-So ]]> http://cgfd.wordpress.com/2009/10/17/istanbul-mori-sushi/feed/ 0 cgfd IMG_6662 http://cgfd.wordpress.com/2009/09/25/india-lodhi-garden-restaurant-delhi/ http://cgfd.wordpress.com/2009/09/25/india-lodhi-garden-restaurant-delhi/#comments Thu, 24 Sep 2009 22:12:04 +0000 cgfd http://cgfd.wordpress.com/?p=848 Continue reading →]]> SANGRIA FESTIVAL AND BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION AT LODHI GARDEN!!!

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Bottom Line: Perfect place to share a drink (or four), to share a meal, to share a laugh (or a thousand), to share an endless conversation.  One more exception to our all Indian food – all the time rule, but this one was recommended by the wise SP, our Delhi-born colleague.  After Sevilla, how could we refuse Lodhi Garden?  We are so glad we deferred to her better judgement for our final night together in India.  Sniffy sniff sniff.  I don’t wanna go!!! You can’t make me!!!

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Bottom Line: We’re too good for you, Oberoi, and we’re too good for your friend, Udaipur Lake Palace.  I’ve navigated plenty of uptight environments, but the vibe at this place bordered on downright miserable.  We are three giddy girls dressed in gorgeous saris (best shopping experience of my life, hands down), surrounded by a lush garden and beautiful live music.  How in God’s name does this delightful place attract so many well-to-do British retirees and woebegone newlyweds, each oozing an unnerving mix of indifference and boredom, with traces of regret?  The servers, bless their hearts, thought they could will it away with their enormous smiles.  We three Goris noted our entry into no-fun zone, and then did what we do best.  We had so much f*%$#n fun!!!!!

We ordered some aperitifs, murgh khaas makhani, goan fish curry, murgh ka soweta, saffron naan, and a bottle of wine.  We were so disappointed to find such uninspiring food in such a stunning setting.  Udaimahal played to its audience, preparing bland food for a bland crowd, watering down sauces, economizing spices.  Overall, we declare the food edible, the clientele, poisonous.

No address available.  It’s on the lovely Lake Pichola, Near Lake Pichola Hotel.  Just ask for directions.  Can’t do better than that, unfortunately, but you’ll get there!

Bottom Line: This peaceful, hidden terrace on a sparkling lake, with equally spectacular views of the oppulent and the indigent, is worth the winding walk.  The sounds of kids swimming, women washing, trees swaying – splash splash splash, swish swish swish.  We ordered chicken rajputana, chicken masala, and aloo chatni wala.  We savored every bite and every moment.  Simple food, simple day, simply brilliant.