Parental guidance required

Injy El-Kashef suffers through the terrible twos
Some things are simply not subject to change. Children, for instance, will go through a difficult age: they will pout and shake their little heads no matter what blandishments they are offered. At the Merryland's Fakhreddin, directly overlooking the flamingo-populated artificial pond, dozens of tables will always be set in the open air, as a cool breeze wafts through and absent-minded waiters sing along to the barely audible music. The setting is actually quite pleasant and so is the food, as will be discussed later, but the service unforgivably slow and the show indescribably boring: some things, as I said, never change.
What amazed me, on the other hand, was that the entertainment was the stuff local male dreams are made of, and yet none seemed to be paying attention. A blonde, a brunette and a redhead, changing into a variety of revealing costumes every five minutes and swaying to the music in the company of a not-very-convincing man, managed to extract the unenthusiastic applause of, say, a couple of customers and the undivided attention of none. Even the bellydancer, who was quite good if you ask me, failed to capture the hearts of all present for the duration of her performance (except maybe one of my friends, who repeatedly expressed a strong wish to have a similar costume tailor-made). Well, it was all good family fun -- nothing you wouldn't want the children to see.
Our mezze arrived long before the drinks did and we wondered if the beer was still being brewed and the soft drinks being fizzed up as we awaited. Some delicious chicken livers in a garlicky sauce, two huge kobeibas with pine nuts, three light and fluffy cheese sambousek, a very minty fattoush salad and some pleasantly lemony stuffed vine leaves were the opening to a rather good meal.
Since I wanted to get my hands dirty I opted for the grilled pigeons, which were extremely good, though rather thin, and tasted strongly of the live charcoal fire over which they had been cooked. Chris, our friend from London, obviously preferred to stick to familiar dishes and quite enjoyed his Shish Tawouk, which he hoovered off his plate as he described a nightmarish airport experience and glanced the bellydancer's way every now and again. Busy man, Chris.
One of the two girls had ordered the Chicken Provençal (why it was called that, I fail to comprehend) and was eating it with such a look on her face that when she cut off a little bit for me to taste I almost had to hold my nose for fear of the unknown to come. As it turned out, however, she was just being a bad little girl, because there was nothing wrong at all with her chicken. Well, she was not going out to play until she finished it all and cleaned her room. As for the other girl, she pouted all night although I allowed her to order exactly what she wanted: the Fakhreddin Specialty -- chicken fillet with mushrooms and cream under a cheesy gratin.
As I mulled over the inadequacy of my parenting skills, and an awfully unattractive singer performed covers of Shaaban Abdel-Rehim songs, we paid our LE240 bill and got ready to go. Everyone was deprived of dessert. We shall see how they behave the next time we are in public.
Fakhreddin, Merryland, Al-Hegaz Street, Roxy, Heliopolis.
Tel: 451 2313
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