Restaurant review:
The sultan's daughter
When you're Ottoman and young in Ohio
My bawwab (doorman) is going door to door asking if Bush is still ahead. Waiting for me by the lift, he cites the numbers, 220 to 190, with a look of anticipation. Since my 30-second appearance on regional TV two years ago, I've had this man's respect. If I were Saddam, he would be running all over Falluja with the Al- Zarqawi crowd. I tell him to cheer up. "These are just exit polls. Ohio is definitely ours." Now, we're both staunch Democrats, me because I am worried about the UN future (being in the translation business), him because he cares for stem cell research.
For the past two weeks, we've been scouring the downtown area for "Vote Kerry" buttons. We found two rusty ones with a scalper, but stopped wearing them after the crazy woman in 104, an anti-abortionist vision of Bin Laden in mid-length skirt and beehive hair sneered at us. (The next day, garbage appeared mysteriously in her balcony). A week ago, we snuck into the lift and stuck a picture of Bush biting off the head of the Statue of Liberty, with the caption, "Get him, Zarqawi!" Our call inflamed democratic sentiments in the building so much that little children were seen leaving the lift crying.
"What would happen to stem cell research now?" My bawwab asks once Kerry has conceded. I promise him to start a signature campaign calling for Egypt to spearhead medical research in this area. Now that peace is farther than Antarctica, how about the next international conference in Sharm El-Sheikh dedicated to that medical procedure? A transatlantic gesture to the beleaguered Democrats may not be a bad long- term move, if you know what I mean.
Bint Al-Sultan (the sultan's daughter) is an outdoor- indoor affair specialised in what it says is Ottoman cuisine. I go indoors, hoping to get a glimpse of the sultan's daughter, but she's not to be found. Perhaps she is still in Ohio, trying her Ottoman best to help the Democrats regroup. Once back, she may want to drown her sorrows in a big, warm, frothy bowl of kawarae (calf knuckle) soup, which the Intellectual orders for starters and highly praises. He offers me a taste, but I decline. You all know my less-than-progressive views on consensual soup-sharing among male adults. But I grab a piece of his main entry, the nifa (grilled goat meat) and rate it excellent.
I am not sure about the decoration though. The outdoor area is completely happy, like Republican festivities. A picket-fenced foray into what must have been once public domain is festooned with wavy placards of festive colours and many Ramadan lanterns. The inside, where we sit, is rather dismal and deserted, like UN offices once Bush has his way with the organisation.
I am not thrilled by my soup of vegetables or the fatta (rice and bread flavoured with vinegar and garlic) with kawarea that follows. Every now and then, in Ramadan, the cook is evidently guessing with the amount of salt he should use. The Brunette, however, is pleased with her chicken in tomato sauce plate. We over-order, as usual. About three different dishes of aubergine appear on the table: babaganoug (aubergine dip), grilled aubergine with chilly sauce, and an aubergine casserole with raisins. These are all good, but we cannot make a dint in them, although a New York- based financial impresario arrives and tries his best to help us.
The all-knowing Owl brings her fluffy-hair and big smile to the table halfway through the meal. She orders turkey sharkasiya (walnut-flavoured rice), and finds the turkey on the dry side. Following the meal, we retreat to the open air section for mint teas and wonderful, though excessively sweet, mehalabiya (rice flour pudding) and eish saraya (palace bread: reddish cake coated with cream).
Bint Al-Sultan (02) 760 6633, Midan Al-Thawra, Mohandessin, open noon till dawn in Ramadan, offers a wide variety of oriental cuisine. Dinner for four, LE380.
By Nabil Shawkat