Restaurant review: Smile power Overcoming the pettiness of extra sugar grains -- in two hours I had spotted the little café-trottoir on my way from work. So drawn was I to this invitingly neat addition to our lives that I almost crashed, actually. The pleasure of descending from Al-Azhar Bridge to the view of the gorgeous Wekalet Al-Ghouri -- and driving along the vicinity of Al-Azhar Mosque, then past Al-Hussein Mosque -- was now emhanced by an additional stop opposite Al-Azhar Hospital -- in effect extending the very end of the road: Zebdia Café. It was something bright -- on the other side of the street -- that caught the corner of my eye. I looked. Elegant and almost glorious stood a creme-coloured two-storey building, shutters open, with bright red flowers at all windows -- beauty. On the pavement stood simple but perfect lampposts, framing a ground-level café that fused Riche with Al-Fishawi in my mind. It looked like a period post-card superimposed onto an otherwise grey background. I arrived there about 10 minutes before Iftar, planning to break my fast on some hummus (as no food would be available) and took a seat on one of the spotless lacquered chairs outside. At this point a man was sitting by the door, fingers entwined over crossed legs, elbow leaning on the freshly polished metal table top. He watched passers-by with the knowing look of a sage, and the proud air of a tribal elder. The waiters referred to him as El-Hagg, swarming around him like workers of the same hive, with dedicated veneration. With the call to prayer, I was invited inside -- only to be presented with a tray of small plates with rice, cooked vegetables, salad, meat and bread. The Hagg insisted with a commanding hand gesture that silenced any possible protestations on my part: I was to share their meal. There is good karma in that place. Everyone smiles and it's from the heart -- you can see it in the eyes. My friend the Gemini arrived later and ordered green tea. The waiter explained that she could have it American ("in a tea bag"), or Japanese ("the real thing"). The order yielded a sight to behold: Japanese green tea, served in a terracotta tea pot with an Arabian-style delicate glass cup -- the combination worked perfectly. I inhaled a whiff of her tea, and tasted a brew so flavoursome that I thought it had been sweetened. Recommended by the waiter, "the Cocktail" stood menacingly on the table. The sheer size of it was daunting. As the Gemini said it, "I have never been intimidated by a cocktail before." In a huge glass mug, slices of banana, apple, guava and whole grapes sat in three consecutive layers of guava, strawberry and mango juice; the rim of the glass was decorated with large slices of banana and apple. We took turns over it, never of course even contemplating reaching the bottom layer, but just nibbling at its fruity freshness in between rounds of Turkish coffee. Now the Zebdia Café has been making Turkish coffee since 1927, and they have certainly understood how to offer it with the best possible mazag (mood): they serve rich coffee in beautiful cups. My 'al-riha (sugar in the least possible amount) was a little bit sweeter than it should have been, granted -- but it was presented in such exquisite porcelaine, decorated in lapis blue and gold celestial designs, it really did not matter that a few extra grains of sugar had slipped in. My humble prediction is that Café Zebdia's proximity to Beit Al-Harrawi and the Al-Azhar parking lot, as well as its relative detachment from the hustle and bustle of the Khan Al-Khalili area, will turn it into an instant hot spot. And I'm sure the Hagg and his men will be able to handle the load. Zebdia Café 158 Gohar Al-Qaed St, opposite Al-Azhar Hospital Two hours for two: LE37 By Injy El-Kashef
