Restaurant review:

In fear of fat

Getting on the case of the delectable clam is a curious exercise -- with no calories lost

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The Egyptian Arabic word for clams, Gandofli, is a chain fish restaurants that is popular with Egyptians. Few foreigners venture there. Hardly considered an upscale eatery, Gandofli caters essentially for clients with very traditional Egyptian tastes.

The fish at Gandofli is prepared according to strict stipulations of traditional fish cuisine. All, with perhaps the notable exception of the seafood salad -- which turned out to be a non-descript squid entree drenched in a creamy sauce peppered with spring onion.

The dining style aims for casual elegant, but does not quite achieve it. That said, the fish is reasonably priced. Portions aren't particularly generous, and the presentation anything but artful. I explored both the Mohandessin and the Maadi branches of Gandofli. There is also a third, in Nasr City -- I shall be heading there in the weeks ahead.

"Less meat... more fish" is the eatery's motto. Fish is generally far healthier than red meat, but fried fish can be wildly calorific, and I'm afraid Gandofli is recklessly unrestrained when it comes to the deep fry.

At the Maadi branch, I enjoyed the famous Gandofli clam-based seafood soup. Clams feed on plankton and they are rich in protein, minerals and vitamins. They are one of the most overlooked delicacies -- in Egypt, at any rate. Shellfish is generally savoured at restaurants, as opposed to being prepared at home -- but clams especially so. Hardly anyone I know cooks clams at home.

The Gandofli seafood soup was delicious -- a clear clam broth heavily laden with steamed fish, crab, prawn and squid. The moloukheya, however, was something of a disappointment.

The gooey green soup made of the corchorus olitorius, better known as Jew's Mallow in the English- speaking world, is perhaps the most uniquely authentic of Egyptian dishes -- it harks back to the days of the Pharaohs. The leafy verdant vegetable is typically finely chopped and thrown into a piping hot chicken or meat broth minutes before serving. Traditionally both the duck and rabbit varieties make the best moloukheya. Duck being the tastier, but heavier, rabbit the lighter and healthier. But, the coastal people of the Nile Delta and especially around Damietta and Port Said, prefer their moloukheya with shrimp. It is a local delicacy in these northeastern port cities of Egypt.

The defining characteristic of any moloukheya soup, what gives it its distinctive taste, is the taaliya -- crushed garlic fried lightly until it is pink and fragrant, and seasoned with a little salt and coriander. The taaliya is then tossed into the boiling moloukheya soup just before it is served.

Indeed if it is badly prepared, the taaliya can spoil the soup. Too little garlic, or too brownly burnt garlic irredeemably ruins the dish. At Gandofli, the taaliya, was, alas, not up to par. Worse, we had to fish for the few shrimps swimming in the huge soup bowl. The shrimp, which was pink and plump enough, should have been far more plentiful. And the soup was based on the less vigorous vegetable stock and not on the more vibrant fish stock.

We were a bit undecided as to what fish to sample. My companions craved prawns. I succumbed to their pleas for deep fried prawns. It was obviously going to be a fat-saturated and cholesterol-clogged dinner. They are both in their 20s and so I guess they could not care less about health hazards.

The waiter recommended eel stew, but said it would take some time to prepare. We settled for deep fried eel -- a most oily creature in its own right. At this point I felt I was, really, courting disaster. Indeed, the fried eel just oozed oils -- its own and the cook's.

The fish was fresh, we opted for red mullet or barboni as it is called in Egypt. Mullus barbatus, to give it its scientific name, is a highly prized small fish popular throughout the Mediterranean. It is rich in protein, iodine and phosphorus. In Egypt, it is traditionally deep fried. At Gandofli, the fish was treated to too much batter and oil, losing something of its natural goodness. The flesh, though, was firm.

The service could have been a tad more attentive and welcoming, and although the Mohandessin branch was a bit hard to find, it was well worth the effort.

Gandofli
Mohandessin branch
80, Sour Al-Tersana Club
Tel: 02 305 6010, 02 305 7020

By Gamal Nkrumah