Restaurant review: From within the Bird Cage our appetites sing Thai in all its Pad, Yam, Yang and Sioy forms My first bite into the fish cake had me pondering politics -- wondering if life will ever return to what it once was. It took me 15 minutes to make the tour around the American compound of Garden City to reach the parking lot of the Semiramis InterContinental Hotel. Once there, the security procedures, outside the hotel, inside the parking lot, inside the hotel, take at least another 10. It takes my friend significantly longer -- she arrives quite out of stringent character; 25 minutes late. In the process, I have already skimmed through the menu with her (God bless the modern advent of mobility in all its forms) and placed the order. She arrives frazzled, and we debate the issue of why the world in its entirety has evolved into the peculiar place it has. The food, however, does commendable work in propelling us to the next topic of conversation; that feeling of being famished. I am not a fan of fried food. Truth be told, the aversion stems from predominantly psychological idiocy that overpowers, at times, the rational mind. Today famished takes over, and the fish cakes and spring rolls are allowed a privilege fried foods seldom are afforded; entry into my insides. The fish cakes (Tod Man Pla) consist of a crispy mini-burger type thing; fish and red curry paste battered in some scrumptious concoction and served with lemon leaves and a slightly tangy and light sauce. The only critique is perhaps a greasiness slightly more than necessary for even fried foods. The spring rolls are not at all greasy (relative, again, to "fried" standards), but they are bland for five stars. Perhaps the most engaging thing about them is the perfectly spiced accompanying spring roll sauce (that which is usually ketchup elsewhere). The wait for the main course is longer than necessary. In the meantime, we are entertained, then aggravated, by the team of smiley waiters who are overly eager to replenish our little water glasses. It is one thing I hate -- having a water bottle urgently snatched from my hands for the purpose of etiquette; heaven forbid that a guest should pour his or her own beverage from a bottle placed less than 30 centimetres from arm-reach. I wonder about this and the issues that pertain to it; does it signify the inability on my part to indulge in being served; is it common to any five-star restaurant anywhere else in the world; do others have an issue finding something semi-graciously taken from their hand. I cannot seem to recall this same urgent, chronic, feel to water-pouring when I was living in New York. The main course is wholly satisfying with a few minor details. The spicy beef salad with cucumber and tomato and Thai herbs (Yam Nua Yang), is scrumptious. It is one of my first few beef excursions since denouncing 19 years of vegetarianism, and it confirms to me the soundness of the decision. Whether it is too low tolerance on my part or simply an adamant attitude on the part of the chef to preserve the "original" recipe, my request for the spice to be reduced seems to have been completely ignored. The complimentary steamed rice (Khao Sioy), however, pays its dues, blanketing that heat working its way, somehow, up my nose and seemingly into my ears. My friend's crispy calamari in sweet chili sauce with green onions (Pla Meuk Samros) is not quite up to par. The "crisp" element comes from far too much batter and far too much fat. The "sweet" element comes from a sauce that is far too synthetic and too much like ketchup. And the calamari strips are far too thin. Her noodles (Pad Tai Koong), however, epitomise culinary perfection. Comprised of stir-fry rice noodle sticks with shrimps, bean sprouts and peanuts, they are, for lack of a more eloquent description, scrumptious, propelling us to ponder the talent required to cook eggs with noodles and not come up with an overly "eggy" concoction. We clean our plates. There is absolutely no room for desert and we are forced to cancel our "coffee" plan; there is no room for that either. We leave pondering the journey out of the high- security complex, and wondering, as well, if what we ate was "really" Thai, or was it some muted, globalised blend. The Bird Cage, 02 795 7171, Semiramis InterContinental Cairo, Corniche Al-Nil, Cairo. Open 12.30pm--4.30pm, 7pm--midnight. Dinner for two: LE200. By Yasmine El-Rashidi
