Restaurant review: A subtle distinction Injy El-Kashef is wary of the fine line between fishing and standing on the shore like an idiot The same, huge difference exists between actually indulging in a seafood meal, and merely thinking that you are. When last week I was once more in the cosy gathering of the family, and eager to break the routine with an unexpected treat, I took the little one and walked to Overseas, the new fish place around the corner from my parents'. The aim, as I explained to him on the way, was to get as many small dishes and appetizers as reasonable and surprise the assembled party with an open-buffet-type dinner without anyone having to leave the warmth of home. Luckily for him, I try not to make the same mistake twice, and so this time I did not say anything about the fact that the exterior is designed to look like a ship -- for, whatever I might have said, his imagination was bound to be far wilder and a disappointment would mar his sense of discovery. Past the little wooden bridge leading inside, it was with a yelp of excitement that he rushed towards an aquarium said to house a crocodile. That was when disappointment did indeed strike. He, of course, wanted a ferocious, jaw-snapping dinosaur threatening our very existence with its presence; what he found was a cute one-month-old baby croc, looking so helpless it made me want to kiss it. "That's not a crocodile," he sneered at the management, "That's a lizard. With big eyes." Two immense turtles were basking in another aquarium and, fortunately, these happened to be big enough for him to lose interest in contesting my choices for the meal. I left him to the nicknames he tried to invent for the reptiles and headed on a quick inspection tour of the new neighbourhood venture. Upstairs is a seating arrangement, downstairs are the kitchen, bathrooms, ice display and cashier, with the whole affair as spotless and odourless as it was characterless: lots of white, a substantial amount of neon bulbs (neon is bad for the soul), and not much else by way of décor. I was more convinced now than ever that a home delivery would combine the best of all worlds. And though the order took a good hour to materialise, it arrived pipping hot in elegant cardboard boxes, delivered by a well-mannered waiter dressed as an Alexandrine fisherman (he of the crocodile). It was not just the intention that counted here, but the taste of the food too helped make this dinner a memorable experience. To begin at the beginning, two items tickled our palates pink: the herring salad and the calamari salad. The first consisted of filleted herring slices bathing in a tangy dressing (I detected the juice of oranges in the medley) with onions and peppers; while the second, far more colourful, was a toss of freshly cooked calamari slivers with red and yellow capsicum strips in a lemony marinade -- both tart and delicious as a sea breeze. I will go over the shrimp and fish kofta quickly, for neither left much of an impression on me as they lacked that strong essential taste that distinguishes seafood from everything else; the little one did have fun with the finger items, but as far as I was concerned, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart from potato kofta with a blindfold. The mother's preferred dish was a shrimp negresco (the mother likes carbs) while the father's was fish fillet in curry sauce. The former was cooked al dente, the white sauce -- of optimum consistency yet subtle flavour -- was dotted with a generous amount of medium-sized shrimps which also added a delightful pinkish colour to the pasta. The latter, on the other hand, was a far more imposing dish: bright yellow, thick and creamy, quite distinctly aromatic and rather filling with the accompanying Basmati rice. For his part, the little one (still high on finger foods) had by now moved on to the spring rolls, filled with calamari and baby shrimp. A trifle too oily for me (I would have left them on absorbent paper a while longer had they come out of my kitchen), I preferred to indulge in a creative Overseas invention: stuffed calamari. It was not the tentacles, nor the head, and for the life of me I could not identify which calamari-part had been ballooned with the spicy rice, but it was absolutely scrumptious. The banquet we shared in Heliopolis could have easily fed two more people, and this for LE216, including two succulent crème caramel to take care of the sweet tooth that tends to perk up just as the fish goes down. So, the next time you want to fish it all the way, try the merry- go-round of small dishes for a real celebration of your taste buds. Overseas Abdel-Hamid Badawi St Opposite Al-Shams Club Heliopolis Tel 620 0781/2
