Restaurant review: From roquefort to pazzaiola Between Batal Ahmed Abdel-Aziz St and Aswan Sq lies Mohandessin's best kept Italian secret, and I owe the Belly Dancer a dinner. Andrea, the Greek from Queens, NY, arrived a month ago to make her mark. She's dissolved many an eardrum with her ceaseless chatter, conducted blasé conversations across jam-packed streets, fled from a breaking-and-entering psychotic fiancé only to marry his porn-addicted brother, but may just have enough talent and gall to pull off a career here. We traverse the greenery and miniature marble pillars of the entrance and, once seated with wine glasses upturned, take it all in. Classic white tablecloths adorn large dining tables in a medium-sized hall. Canvases of the "Old Country" and an ersatz wooden rifle deck the walls. Glass jars brimming with dry macaroni, and kitsch-but-cute green, white and red napkins serve to make the businessmen seated next to us seem like a local re-enactment of a Sopranos episode. A colleague of mine had been raving about the quality of food here for weeks, and he was right. Pavarotti's specialty is home-made pasta, which they serve al dente or well done with equal finesse. The ravioli and lasagna strike the elusive firm-yet-tender balance, and the ingredients are well balanced. The main courses are all doted upon and feature veal served with eggplant or lemon sauce, beef fillets, with sauces ranging from roquefort to pazzaiola, and scampi, oven-baked with tomato sauce or grilled. Fresh, finely-executed Italian specials such as bruschetta, melanzanne alla parmigiana (eggplant with mozzarella and tomatoes), and tiramisu (ladyfingers with mascarpone, chocolate and espresso) have managed to lure in the local Italian denizens craving a little tipica cucina Italiana. Even with her gastric juices working overtime digesting two full meals consumed in the past three hours, Andrea can't help but nibble away compulsively at the complimentary garlic bread, doused with olive oil and sprinkled with basil, and all the other tasty starters. When her pizza arrives, an original thin crust with diced salami rather than typical pepperoni rings, she only has room left for a couple of slices. Garrulously, she tells of turning down an offer to join forces with a certain scandal-ridden Diva and her "back- stabbing Russian Mafia" of a posse, focussing her energies instead on the possibility of her own TV show. I picture media sharks with their meticulously-trimmed moustaches and oily grins making promises of Maadi villas, 20-jet Jacuzzis, and round-the-clock nail-trimming services to the kid with starry eyes who chose to forgo formal representation. But somehow I'm not worried. When I give her a piece of my steak to sample, because it's simply too sumptuous to go unaccredited, the impudent carnivore sounds off her oral pleasure loudly before shamelessly tearing into, then devouring, what remains on my plate. This one can probably fend for herself. Once the meal is over we kick back to enjoy yet another delight, the LE5 (and bona fide) cappuccino. The atmosphere sinks in. Ultimately a family restaurant, this is the place you bring your kids to scream their heads off as you console yourself with good, priced-down food (no meat dish exceeds LE30, and there's no minimum charge). The décor is "rustic", though, somehow, fitting, but the TV which plays melody songs endlessly is definitely a nuisance -- classical, or even elevator, music would have been a better choice. We have to find her a stage name before we leave. Lately, all her introductions have been met with the response, "Andrea? You mean like the chicken restaurant?" We consider the in-your-face " AMMO ", and set about designing a poster which features her clad in a belly dancer's costume (outfitted with protective aluminum), and sporting an Uzi or AK-47, before abandoning the idea as ludicrous. We brainstorm some more but nothing comes. So we obtain take-out menus and, much more decisively, proceed to order from this worthy establishment for the next four days straight. Pavarotti 12 Dr Al-Mahrouki St, Mohandessin. Tel: +2 303 8696, +2 303 2981. Working hours: 12pm--1am. Dinner for two, LE150. photo: Tamer Youssef By Waleed Marzouk
