Restaurant review: Towering expectations The streets ran with blood, and the fun was just starting The very chic lady from Zamalek walks into the police station. In accented Arabic, she tells the duty officer that her neighbour has done it again. He slaughtered a cow in front of the building, and blood was everywhere. The officer listens sympathetically, nods approvingly, listens again, nods again. "This is against the law, right?" The officer says it is, "but what do you want us to do, Madame? It's over now." Madame is unhappy. Here is what Madame wants. She wants those in charge to act before the fact, not after the fact. It is not about animal rights, although she owns seven cats, or religious rites, which she doesn't contest. It is a simple matter of hygiene. You want to kill an animal, do it in a slaughterhouse, not at the entrance of a residential building. A simple argument, and the officer in question agrees and agrees, until Madame runs out of breath. Madame then calls me. I listen and nod and agree, just as the officer did on the first day of Eid Al-Adha (feast of the sacrifice). If he wasn't in duty, he would most likely be performing the same act of sacrifice somewhere in Cairo -- hygiene or no hygiene. As for me, I am in a car speeding to a fancy gated community in the Western Desert. In the boot of the car are choice cuts from the carcass of a sheep slaughtered that same morning somewhere in Zamalek, not far from her home. I don't tell her that. I can't earn her respect -- no one in this city can, not this time of year -- but at least I try to stay on her good side. Otherwise, she would tell me, yet again, what she really thinks of me. The next day, as if to atone for my sacrifice-day insensitivity, I decide to undergo a purification ordeal. I take two friends, the Psychiatrist and the Californian, to lunch at Cairo's tallest building, the Cairo Tower. The needle-like structure that has dominated the city's skyline for over 40 years is a challenge for diners, cooks, and the occasional sightseer. And yet it's a tempting challenge. You go through a verdant street into a tiled yard with two restaurants and a cafeteria for people who are afraid of heights. Then you head to the tickets office and start brushing up on your mathematics. There are seven types of tickets, priced according to your place of birth, culinary desires, and possession of a video camera (starting at LE13 for Egyptians not wishing to eat). I get tickets for dinner at the revolving restaurant, Al-Dawwar (means revolving, but also a pun on the village chief's home, which traditionally doubles as a municipal gathering place). Our expectations are not high. The highest restaurant in Cairo has a long-standing reputation for shoddiness. So, we're pleasantly surprised to discover that the soups (lentils, cream of chicken, cream of tomato) are fairly edible, although my companions claim they taste like Campbell's products. The bread is warm and home-made, and the salads (chickpeas, babaghanoug, sliced vegetables) are quite acceptable. The steaks that follow (including Steak Diana and two concoctions that are supposed to involve pepper corn but don't) are tough and covered with a homogeneous brown sauce that is neither here or there. I naïvely expect the entire restaurant to revolve, but it doesn't. Only the floor does, in a rickety motion, as if someone is turning a rusty wheel manually and sneezing a lot. You get a full turn around the affair, with a panoramic view of Cairo, every 30 minutes or so. The service is exceptionally friendly and the setting, although not fancy, is comfortable. Al-Dawwar (aka Vertigo), (02) 738 3790, Cairo Tower (Borg Al-Qahira), Zamalek, open 8am to midnight, offers average food on a revolving platform with a lovely city view. Pay for your meal downstairs. Alcohol available. Lunch for three, LE300. By Nabil Shawkat
