Restaurant review: Red and raw "Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away." -- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry The wonderful thing about political correctness is that most of the time you don't need to stay correct regarding the same issue for too long; give or take a few years and the topic will tend to regain the normalcy with which it was treated before someone decided to add it to the list of restrictions on human expression. And the wonderful thing about Egyptians is that they never bother much with such restrictions. We take ourselves lightly enough to know that the reason the world spins in weird ways sometimes has nothing to do with how many helpless cows were slaughtered; in other words: we grill their meat and eat it guiltlessly. I sound atrocious, I know. Dear vegetarians, no offense intended -- I love you no less for your choice, but do reconsider, just for me. If you go to Dar Al-Amar and grab a skewer you'll know that I am offering priceless advise. Before we proceed, a word of warning: do not fall in the trap of over-ordering once you look at the prices on that pretty yellow menu in your hands. The items, alluring and inviting, are quite cheap, and it may prove embarrassing to walk away with an apologetic smile, wishing you had a neon sign on your forehead stating that the heaps of food before you are somebody else's. I saw it happen to the lady in front of me, and was blinded by the neon letters flashing in her mind, poor soul. The simplicity of the menu is also partly to blame. Without making a fuss, they just list item after item of Lebanese cuisine that comes far closer to the real thing than you are likely to encounter at any posh counterpart, their confident concision replacing pompous fanfare. When I ordered my Mana'ish for example, I was asked to choose which way I liked them baked. And when I replied that I liked them thin and oven-baked, thinking I knew what to expect now, I was again surprised with the diversity of the generous filling -- not to mention the overall size of the wrap. Cheese and Vegetable Mana'ish at Dar Al-Amar means halloum, tomatoes, olives, green peppers, and of course the staple sesame and thyme base. But enough child's play now. "We have so much time, and so little to do," said Willy Wonka at his chocolate factory. "Wait! Stop! Reverse that," he added; so little time indeed when we still need to talk about the beauty of those meat skewers -- that could even turn into an endless discussion of aesthetics. No words could better describe the cuts of meat than Saint-Exupéry's definition of perfection: they contain not a shred, not a trace, of anything but pure, fresh, red meat. They are cut the smallest possible size; and, to top it all up, every last drop of seasoned juice infuses the tender fibres with aroma and taste. The kofta is not as we know it, but a minimalist version of the small bananas we shape them as -- these are flat, and thin, and they melt in the mouth. The grill section is to be approached with respect, please. Mehallabeya was a light way to end the meal and wash this carnivorous frenzy with a soothing dairy product for the good of the tummy. But if you happen to be walking on the wild side, and truly want to indulge in a hedonistic culinary experience, I might suggest trying the Bananas with Honey and Cream. I did not dare do it myself -- yet. But those words are engraved in my mind and I know it is there, waiting for me. Dar Al-Amar Lebanon Square, Dokki. Tel 345 2162/63 By Injy El-Kashef
