Restaurant review: Hot as in heartburn Do kushari as the Cairenes do, counsels Gamal Nkrumah Don't expect richly textured Neapolitan pasta, or Basmati rice, for that matter. Anticipate instead a soggy, soft, cheap type of pasta without the proverbial proper "bite", if you know what I mean. And, come to think of it, I never did really understand the true meaning behind the Biblical injunction that the meek shall inherit the Earth. I could neither comprehend nor fathom it. Who exactly are the meek? Are they the meek in spirit, humble peasants or the poor? Presumably they are to be bequeathed the soil, dirt or some temporal Paradise? Beats me. But kushari invariably reminds me of the Biblical meek who are supposed to inherit the Earth. And, don't ask me why. Perhaps because the dish is the favourite of the poor? Or is it because Coptic Christians are fond of it during their forbidding, stringently by the book vegetarian fasts? Kushari, likewise, is the very flavour of Cairo. It is devoured with much relish in the city's alleyways and you often get a whiff of the stuff percolating from doorways in makeshift shantytowns and slums. When made properly, the rasping acidity of the garlicky sauce and the fierce sting of the chili peppers combined with the sweetness of the crisp fried onions, is an overpowering admixture. The fun, the true happiness, is in the heartburn. The coarser versions have a fiery mouth-filling texture. The nutritious mix can be adjoined to the well-matched ingredients. The rather neutral flavours of the carbohydrates are spruced up with the pungency of the seasonings and the sharp spices. The savourless pasta -- including spaghetti and vermicelli -- and flavourless rice curiously compliment the oddly vapid and uninteresting lentils and the chickpeas certainly add a nutty piquancy. For me, I'm afraid a large serving will not do. The dish comes in three sizes -- small, medium and large. Small does it for me. I get the texture just right by adding an appropriate amount of chickpeas. It's this twist that makes it such an excellent magical ingredient. Generous libations of garlic sauce and piping hot chili sauce can produce the most brilliant results. Even so, such a potpourri would never grace the tables of billionaires. The spectre of the protesters in Tahrir Square hung over my decision to pay a visit to Al-Tahrir Kushari eatery in Talaat Harb Street, in downtown Cairo. The sweltering heat outside and the steamy or rather gaseous pollution of the crowded streets of the city centre make it not a particularly pleasant place for ambitious restaurateurs to establish their culinary reputation. Then like a cloud with a silver lining the torrid heat disappeared. Inside this fast food eatery it was marvellously cool because of the frosty air condition, I presume. The dining room perches precariously above the takeaway counter. Waiters in vivid green T-shirts and black trousers hover around holding trays of kushari and complimentary plastic and paper cups of chilled potable water. Everything is plain and simple, unaffected but run efficiently and pleasantly clean. The waiters, too, are affable, polite and courteous. The transition from hellishly hot outside to freezing cold inside is a trifle sinister. That aside, this is an ideal restaurant to sample one of Egypt's most typical contemporary dishes. The waiters come to your table twice: once to dish out the kushari and its accompaniments and again at the end of the meal to make sure that everything has been satisfactory. As I struggle with my small-sized kushari dish, I spy the huge matronly housewife squatting at the table next to me. She dives into her king-sized soup plate of kushari. She snatches a full tablespoon of kushari from her equally chubby son, presumably to check whether his kushari is as appetising as hers. "Mum, that's not fair," he squeals. She shushes him and munches more of his kushari. "I'm sorry darling, I'm starving," she mumbles in hushed tones. "It's great stuff," she beams breathlessly, turning to the rest of the food on the table. Kushari Al-Tahrir Abdel-Khaleq Tharwat Street Downtown Cairo Tel: 2396 1750 Lunch for one: LE10
