A girl's best friend

Injy El-Kashef loses her composure
When we arrived at the Sheraton Royal Gardens we had the option of either eating Japanese at Inaka-Ya or of sipping delicious cocktails at Trader Vic's until someone sober was forced to take us all home. Both venues were still closed however, at six in the afternoon. Inaka-Ya was the first to open within half an hour, a turn of fate that prompted yet another decision to be made for us by default.
As we sat by the pool, awaiting the opening of the Japanese gates, us girls decided to indulge in some Martini Rosso -- a decision which, for some reason, appeared obscure enough for the Sheraton waiters to return several times with the question "Martini Rosso?". When it finally sank in, we saw four plain, tall, water glasses arriving with a miserable Martini shot lying at the base of each that resembled flat leftover Pepsi. This made me so furious that I allowed myself to phrase my complaint in the most shamelessly arrogant of tones, downright refusing to sip my Martini out of a glass "designed for sugarcane juice at best." My little hysterical fit over, the waiter, lo and behold, miraculously produced the appropriate glasses, filled with a generous amount of that wonderful beverage.
Six of us took our seats around the Tepanyaki table. The cook promptly arrived with his knives, tumblers, mops, and saucers and immediately engaged in an impressive show basically involving his tossing his knife around almost every last one of his body parts and catching it dexterously with extreme ease and a surprising lack of shed blood. I had been through a situation like this before and was glad to see that, once more, I was not the only one trying to suppress a fit of laughter. There is something about these wonderful Tepanyaki cooks that simply tickles the soul almost uncontrollably. One is duly impressed, a little worried about the flying knives but, above all, overcome by the stifling need to laugh.
There followed a full several-course meal for six prepared with the sort of amazing speed that -- once the initial show was over -- was a real pleasure to watch. While the chef chopped and mixed away, we were served our onion-based soup which was rather French-tasting and yet appetising.
The first item to land on our plates was the delicious Hibachi rice, which included green peas and diced carrots, garlic, egg and chicken or shrimps. It was followed by mixed fried vegetables with garlic which were, luckily, not overcooked and retained their distinctive textures and flavours. Needless to say, a hint of soy sauce and/ or ginger paste added richness to the already powerful flavour, although some in our group preferred not to interfere in what we were presented with by further experimenting -- a grave mistake, in my view.
As for the Teriyaki beef, it was incredible to see how the fresh, lean, red strips of meat were transformed into tender morsels in just a few minutes. When covered by a rich, rather sweet sauce, they simply melted in the mouth.
Such was our LE85 meal, followed by an assortment of fresh fruit. The food was wonderful enough, yet what blew my mind away -- and I was not alone in this -- was the Saki, of which a carafe for six cost LE90. Thinking it was Japan's version of tequila, I was apprehensive as I brought the thimble-sized tumbler to my mouth. But the warmed and sweet rice-based wine, however, turned out to be the closest flavour I would imagine for nectar. This most appetising, though expensive meal, rid me of my histrionics for at least a few hours.
* Inaka-Ya, Sheraton Royal Gardens, 184 Mohamed Ahmed St, Al-Haram.
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