Restaurant review:
Mint is red
Injy El-Kashef is high on psychobabble
I visited Mint on two occasions: once for coffee and cake, and another for lunch. On the night I had coffee (at 11pm), I pledged I'd never be so disrespectful to myself. I had ordered a slice of chocolate cake and an espresso with Nutella and cream. What long-forgotten sin I was unconsciously punishing myself for I do not know, but I must have been pretty angry at myself to bombard my system with so much chocolate when even looking at rich food usually makes me put on weight. Yes, of course, the espresso was delicious, but it was no longer coffee: mixing the Nutella with cream left not a drop of liquid in my cup. The espresso had transformed into a mocha mousse to be eaten with a spoon. As for the chocolate cake, it was moist, thick, heavy and vicious. The perfect weapon for self-destruction.
The second visit afforded me a more in- depth analysis of the place. Mint is cool, by all means. The interior was very carefully designed, the furniture picked item by item -- the ultra-modern arm chairs, the coloured plastic chairs, the lights, and the china were all selected to produce a comfortably elegant effect. Deep red bathroom sinks and Indian incense notwithstanding, the coolest detail is the sharpened pencils among the white napkins in the black box on each table. I grabbed one and sketched my mental state on the paper mat beneath my plate while waiting for the food and listening to my girlfriend talk about cellulite.
A word of warning: it is not a good idea to discuss your figure at Mint. The kitchen simply does not help -- it is gourmet, and certainly not guiltless. I began with some delicious mushrooms in cream sauce while my friend had the fresh and healthy rocket salad. Did I knowingly choose both a main dish and appetiser featuring creamy dressings? Absolutely -- that's the whole beauty of self-deconstruction at meal times. The haunting question that arises in these moments (why?) opens all the closet doors and the skeletons just shatter on the floor.
A huge main course followed. My Fillet au Trois Sauces (mustard, mushroom and pepper sauce on three round cuts of lean, tender beef) was accompanied by roast potatoes, carrots and green beans. It was ample, and perfectly succulent. Her Beef with Garlic lay on a bed of spicy couscous; there was nothing stopping her from inhaling her dish as quickly as I had mine.
Time for dessert and a variation on a theme: couscous with sugar and cinnamon for me, and baked dates (Mint's recommendation) for her. Forget that the couscous was amazing. Just imagine pouring the milky, buttery, sugary sauce of the baked dates on top of the couscous, peeled, cooked dates emerging in your mouth. Rendered speechless and helpless, you succumb to an attack of extreme culinary euphoria.
We paid our LE200 bill and headed for the nearest kiosk for gum -- anything to help digest this epicurean meal that even 100 years of solitude would not erase.
Mint, 30 Geziret Al-Arab St, Mohandessin
Tel 302 3870/1
