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Al-Ahram Weekly 1 - 7 July 1999 Issue No. 436 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 1 - 7 July 1999 Issue No. 436
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Profile Features Special Interview Travel Living Sports Time Out Chronicles People Cartoons Letters Making tracks
By Pascale GhazalehCross the portals of Lan Yuan and find yourself in a world where you may in all seriousness order jasmine tea and discuss the relative merit of dishes designated by code numbers -- a world of bevelled mirrors, red lanterns, tasselled doo-dahs and, most importantly, chopsticks. Not the disposable variety: good solid chopsticks, which sleep peacefully on a small chopstick holder by your placemat and rattle every few minutes as, with a long, low earth-shaking hoot, the metro rushes by. Lan Yuan is as close to the tracks as it is safe to be if one has not bought a ticket.
Often, we order delivery from "The Real Chinese Restaurant", taking advantage of the fact that, by eliminating the waiter, they slice 15 per cent off your bill (and presumably let the delivery man fend for himself by way of tips). On this night, however, we climbed the narrow staircase and were soon seated next to a large party of young Indian businessmen discussing cricket in hushed yet passionate tones.
I come into my own in Chinese restaurants, which is another reason my usual dining companions are often more eager to order delivery: they are unlikely to do more than taste communal dishes, since I manipulate my chopsticks deftly. A stab here, a swoop there, and they are left in the soy sauce. Tonight, then, it was to each his and her own. Feeling virtuous after a particularly gruelling step class, I went for the V2, V4 and T4 -- respectively, fried lettuce in garlic sauce, saucy eggplant (no comment on this fine vegetable's moral character) and deep-fried tofu with Chinese mushrooms. Usually, one of my stalwart sidekicks orders cruel and unusual punishment in the form of crispy rice, an invention which shares with popcorn its capacity to make one feel one has eaten nothing at all -- until, that is, one imbibes the tiniest sip of any liquid, whereupon whoosh! It inflates miraculously to approximately 57 times its original size.
This delicacy being unavailable, however, and being more modest than myself, she settled for fried string beans in garlic sauce (V10) and another T4. The Carnivore had saucy beef flavoured with garlic (pungent), steamed rice and zucchini with mushrooms in oyster sauce.
Apart from the décor, one of the best things about Lan Yuan, I find, is its reliability, and the food's capacity to impart a general feeling of glowing enthusiasm. The saucy eggplant is invariably covered in a sticky, satisfying glaze; the tofu is always -- well, as good as tofu can be; the fried lettuce always swims in a slick and tasty broth; and the Chinese mushrooms, however few they happen to be in number, always have that resilient quality that decisively weeds out the good from the canned. Perhaps the very best thing about it, though, is the dessert -- and the fact that, having eaten Chinese food, one can lie to oneself and pretend that the bursting feeling is temporary, and that dessert is therefore indeed in order. There is only one, as far as I am concerned: the deep-fried bananas served with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream. The eating of this dish requires consummate skill, since you must combine just enough crisp and melting banana fritter with just enough ice-cream to neither burn nor freeze the palate. Whether or not these were politically incorrect Chiquita specimens was not divulged. We may have groaned all the way home -- but it was well worth the waddle.
Copious amounts for three, with liberal lashings of tea, came to about LE160.
Lan Yuan, 84, Rd. 9, Maadi
Tel: 3782702
