Restaurant review: Leap of faith Cancer cancer on the shore, who's the silliest of them all? Another July, another birthday -- what fresh hell may the new year bring? Oh, but I am the incorrigible optimist: light at the end of the tunnel may temporarily switch off for lack of resources, but hey, there's always solar energy. Time to try cartwheeling on the beach again. I must have been around 12 since the last. A Billy Idol song comes to mind -- "With a rebel yell, she cried 'More!', 'More!', 'More!'." Suddenly, an urge -- and up I get. I look at the sand beneath my feet while arms are raised high to the sky. Can I? Should I? May I? "Just do it!" And before I allow reluctance to mar the moment I thrust my body forward; the most formidable feeling takes hold as I reopen my eyes. Any broken bones? Nope -- in fact, the only thing that did break was the ice between myself and the throngs of children digging holes on the beach as they joined in my son's proud laughter at a grown-up's acrobatic feat. When it was time to celebrate my getting a little wiser, there was no "definitely maybe" about how: it was fish all the way; and as always, Samakmak was the name of the game. A pleasant drive in the warm afternoon glow quickly brought us to a sheltered oasis of shaded greenery laid out in Samakmak's hidden garden of fishy delights. Right from the threshold you are made to feel special -- welcoming smiles, tantalising aromas wafting through the air, a handful of waiters hovering around as your precious bum rests on the bamboo chair. The maitre d' brings in a tray of the day's catch. There are fish, crustaceans and tentacled goodies. Our order is simple: shelled crabs, grilled shrimps (who was the first person that dared eat them, I can't help but wonder every time I suck the juice out of their heads), fried calamari (another courageous leap it must have been some hundreds of years ago) and oven-baked fish. We had but one special request: none of the spices that make noses runny, please; we want a dignified meal, and there is a child in our midst. Not too difficult to accomplish, one might think -- yet it proved beyond their capabilities, for everything that landed on our table set our palates on fire. Was it bad enough to turn back? I would be lying if I said it was, for we even packed what remained on the trays to take home -- and, quite honestly, we stuffed up to overflowing. My favourite part of the dinner was a delicious seafood soup, filled to the brim with shrimps, octopus slivers and fish chunks, all floating about with a bouquet of capsicum and greens. The fried calamari were crisp and golden, contrasting perfectly with the meaty shrimps on a pile of grilled vegetables at the centre of the table for picking in between bites. The fish, grey mullets like only the Mediterranean yields, were lemony and tender, bite after bite melting in the mouth to leave a delicious garlicky aftertaste. The salads were a whole different story: in little tubs scattered around the main dishes, they interrupted the flavours like powerful interludes. By far the tastiest, the herring salad was hoovered in a flash, little bits of onion and all; while the runner-up was gebna adima (old white cheese) with tomatoes and green peppers in little bites of burning fresh pita bread. Lodging a complaint with the manager ("Just say no," a clever anti-drug campaign slogan once said) about the exaggerated pepper in our food resulted in a complimentary dessert of chilled watermelon that did wonders to deanesthetise our tongues. A lesson remembered at the end of our meal is that all good things come at a price -- our bill for four came to LE455. As for my birthday resolution this year, it really is quite simple: solar energy forever and ever, amen. Samakmak Kilo 21 Borg Al-Arab Road North Coast By Injy El-Kashef
